The Light Always Comes

3 Nephi 10

I hate the dark.

I hate uncertainty.

I hate not knowing absolutely everything.

The hymn, "Lead, Kindly Light,"  reads,

"Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see

The distant scene--one step enough for me."

I want to feel that way.  I don't feel that way. 

This chapter of scripture finds the people in the dark.  Jesus had just spoken to them in a manner where all were able to hear and understand him, no matter where they were.  He told them of the destruction of the cities and explained who he was and how they could be saved.

They could hear him.  But they couldn't see him.    They couldn't see anything.

They were so surprised by what he said that it reads, 

"For so great was the astonishment of the people that they did cease lamenting and howling for the loss of their kindred which had been slain; therefore there was silence in all the land for the space of many hours."  (vs. 2)

When he speaks again, He says, 

"O ye people of these great cities which have fallen, who are descendants of Jacob, yea, who are of the house of Israel, how oft have I gathered you as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and have nourished you.

And again, how oft would I have gathered you as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, yea, O ye people of the house of Israel, who have fallen; yea, O ye people of the house of Israel, ye that dwell at Jerusalem, as ye that have fallen; yea, how oft would I have gathered you as a hen gathereth her chickens, and ye would not.

6 O ye house of Israel whom I have spared, how oft will I gather you as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, if ye will repent and return unto me with full purpose of heart.

 7 But if not, O house of Israel, the places of your dwellings shall become desolate until the time of the fulfilling of the covenant to your fathers."

And Christ stops speaking and the people began to "weep and howl" again because of the loss of their kindred and their friends.  

After the three days passed away, the morning found it light once again, and the earth stopped rambling and all the tumultuous noises did pass away.

But a word about the chickens.

Christ states and restates how he desired to gather the people as a hen gathereth her chickens under his wings.  If they had come to him he would have protected them, nourished them, and raised them.  But it didn't work out that way.

People think Christ can do anything.  But he can't.

He can't take our free agency.  He can't make us want to choose the right.  He can't protect us from satan and his lies and the misery that will follow sooner or later.

"It has been a very common saying in the world that the Lord was able to do everything, that he could do anything he had a mind to do, and accomplish what he pleased; that he possessed universal power, and could accomplish what he undertook. But what says our text? 'How oft would I have gathered you, but you would not.--George Albert Smith--Journal of Discourses, Vol. 2, page 212.

Mormon talks for the rest of the chapter about those people remaining and how they were spared because they did not shed the blood of the saints or shed the blood of the prophets.  And what those great people did not know, sitting in the darkness and weeping and howling because of the loss of their kindred and friends, is that they were saved.  They were Christ's.  His joy was full because not one of them would be lost.  

But it was dark and they couldn't see that yet. 

On a good day, I can at least slightly feel what is expressed in the third verse of, "Lead Kindly, Light"

 "So long thy pow'r hath blest me, sure it still

Will lead me on

O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till

The night is gone."

God has never failed to lead me to the best of places when I let him.   I don't imagine he'll start now.  

1. Lead, kindly Light, amid th'encircling gloom;

1. Lead thou me on!
   The night is dark, and I am far from home;
   Lead thou me on!
   Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see
   The distant scene--one step enough for me.
2. 2. I was not ever thus, nor pray'd that thou
   Shouldst lead me on.
   I loved to choose and see my path; but now,
   Lead thou me on!
   I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
   Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years.
3. 3. So long thy pow'r hath blest me, sure it still
   Will lead me on
   O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till
   The night is gone.
   And with the morn those angel faces smile,
   Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile!
4. Text: John Henry Newman, 1801-1890
   Music: John B. Dykes, 1823-1876