Prophets Are People, Too

The apostle Paul and I disagree on a few things: the length of a man's hair, keeping women silent in churches, celibacy of priests, and so on. It seems to me the ways and thought patterns of the Pharisees didn't completely desert him after his conversion. Perhaps I'm judging his first-century teachings with a twenty-first century eye, but many of his words have led to strange rules about who is accepted of God and who is not. Only certain right-behaving people can belong to the God club, you know. (Many of these patriarchal, appearance-careful rules can be found among Latter-Day Saints behind the Zion Curtain.)

It is for that reason I was pleasantly surprised a couple of days ago while choosing music for upcoming services at Trinity to find a new and very helpful insight in the 13th chapter of 1 Corinthians. Easily dubbed "The Charity Chapter," Paul proclaims that charity, or pure love, is everlasting and the only thing that really matters. This idea is a "golden thread" of truth to which I cling and is not new to me. What I'd never really seen before now was one of the things that Paul said would not last.

In the eighth verse, according to the King James version, Paul says that "whether there be prophecies, they shall fail..." The Jerusalem Bible translates this passage "if there are gifts of prophecy, the time will come when they must fail..." He then goes on to call all human gifts of knowledge or foreknowledge imperfect and fallible; the limited perceptive abilities of humans make all our knowledge fallible.

Why was this such a gift? In light of recent events, especially Elder Russell M. Nelson's address to the LDS church, it was a reminder that prophets are people. They see through a glass darkly, perhaps not as darkly as others but their vision is still limited and distorted by their humanity. Fasting and prayer can alter the normal human state, but it is debatable whether this actually brings more clarity or just changes the lens.

I've been reading a short biography of Joseph Smith written by a noted biographer and non-member, Robert Vincent Remini. It makes a good attempt at interpreting the available facts fairly, giving the prophet the benefit of the doubt where many merely condemn. What has become clearer through this is that for all of his notable qualities and actions, Joseph Smith was a man, and a fallible one, who was likely seeking for something divine while dealing with his very human nature. I do not doubt he had experiences of a transcendent nature, and I do believe he encountered God. It was really only with the advent of Brigham Young's presidency that he was canonized as some kind of perfect saint, unquestionable and infallible.

So many prophecies have not come to pass; so many policies have proven changeable. Does that make the quest for the divine ridiculous? Does it make the search for the mind of God a quixotic endeavor? Not entirely, because amongst all the attempts to know the mind of God, the many prophecies made and the visions reported, there is one golden thread that weaves through the fabric, the one Paul wove into his first Corinthian epistle: love is what lasts. Love is what matters. Choosing to love will be our salvation in the end. Jesus's message of peace through love, even when filtered through the millennia, gleams golden and it's okay for everything else to crumble away. No need to be afraid or angry that Elder Nelson made that speech in Hawaii. No need to throw my love of friends or family away to mock or ridicule those that are still members. No need to bring the Mormon Tabernacle Choir to its knees by trying to keep their guest artists from performing with them. Love is what matters because love is what lasts. When one is love, all the attributes of love Paul mentions are in evidence and there is, ultimately, peace.

In my own personal page of revelation, given long ago when I was a teenager, I was told that the devil would tempt and try me in insidious ways, desirous to take me for his own. That meant he was going to be sneaky about how he led me away from the fold; if I wanted to stay faithful and maintain access to the atoning gift of the Savior, I needed to cling to the words of the prophets, being as obedient and subservient as I could. I needed to question any other idea or voice with deep suspicion of the motives behind it. Thus, my entire mission was one big offering of as perfect an obedience as I could muster. I worked very hard to burn away sinful thoughts and impulses with the fire of the Holy Ghost. It became clear after my mission that I just couldn't stay away from the tree of knowledge and it's corrupting fruit. I was miserable.

I understand now that what I had really been doing was putting my trust in the arm of flesh. It has taken me a long time to arrive at the point I occupy now, largely due to my extreme caution that I not be led astray. It could be argued that the devil has won, but I don't think so. Little by little, my trust has shifted from the arm of flesh to the heart of love, and with all due respect to the brethren, I think that's where God can really be found.