Sunday, June 23, 2013

Refinement: Seeking the Best Version of Yourself


 
Today’s Sunday School lesson was based on the Lord’s injunction that we “seek learning by study, and also by faith” (Doctrine & Covenants 88:118). He desires that we gain knowledge about “all things that pertain unto the kingdom of God . . . of things both in heaven and in the earth, and under the earth; things which have been, things which are, things which must shortly come to pass; things which are at home, things which are abroad; the wars and the perplexities of the nations, and the judgments which are on the land; and a knowledge also of countries and kingdoms (Doctrine & Covenants 88:78-79).

Clearly He desires that our study be broader than just the gospel. President John Taylor taught that “we ought to foster education and intelligence of every kind; cultivate literary tastes, and men of literary and scientific talent should improve their talent; and all should magnify the gifts which God has given them . . . If there is anything good and praiseworthy in morals, religion, science, or anything calculated to exalt and ennoble man, we are after it” (The Gospel Kingdom, sel. G. Homer Durham [1943] 277).
As I taught the lesson, I sought to emphasize the need to seek out literature and media that ennoble, sharing the following comment from one of my spiritual mentors, Elder Douglas L. Callister: “I don’t know whether our heavenly home has a television set or a DVD machine, but in my mind’s imagery it surely has a grand piano and a magnificent library. There was a fine library in the home of President Hinckley’s youth. It was not an ostentatious home, but the library contained about 1,000 volumes of the rich literature of the world . . . President David O. McKay was inclined to awaken at 4:00am, skim read up to two books each day, and then commence his labors at 6:00am. He could quote 1,000 poems from memory. We knew that whenever he stood at the pulpit. He referred to the grand masters of literature as the ‘minor prophets.’ . . .

On the subject of music, Elder Callister taught: “If we could peek behind the heavenly veil we would likely be inspired by the music of heaven, perhaps more glorious than any music we have heard on this earth. When some music has passed the tests of time and been cherished by the noble and refined, our failure to appreciate it is not an indictment of grand music. The omission is within [ourselves]. If a young person grows up on a steady diet of hamburgers and French fries, he is not likely to be a gourmet. But the fault is not with fine food. He just grew up on something less. Some have grown up on a steady diet of musical French fries . . . A few years ago I made my way to the bedroom of one of my sons to say good night. He was a junior in high school. As I approached his room I heard strains of Tchaikovsky’s sixth symphony. I was surprised. I knew the boy loved sports, but I didn’t know he loved Tchaikovsky. Months later, as my wife and I were listening to a videotape of three tenors singing, our son came in and sat down. He listened and saw, and a new appreciation developed. He said: ‘You never told me about opera.’ He took the videotape to his room, and I never saw it again. Appreciation of the finest in music does not depend on your age” (“Your Refined Heavenly Home,” BYU devotional, 19 Sept. 2006).
Elder Callister has also spoken about the effect, which is noticeable to others, of one’s devoted study of the scriptures and other great literature: “A few years ago I overheard a Church leader lament the fact that he never had time for anything except to read the scriptures and other works of literature and to prepare talks. His wife admiringly responded: ‘I know, dear. We all know. We know every time you stand up to speak.’“

That man was like a mission president Elder Callister once observed during a Mission President’s Seminar. “The presiding General Authority asked the wife of each mission president to say something unusual or different about her husband that we would not otherwise have known. One of the other wives said her husband is the only man she knows who reads the [entire] Book of Mormon once every five weeks.  When he was asked to respond, he acknowledged this was true, confirming he had read the book thus far twenty-two times while presiding over his mission. I watched him through the balance of the seminar. Spirituality emanated from every pore . . . When a man has spent a lifetime studying the word of God, no one has to tell us. We know every time he opens his mouth . . . If we know the books located at the bedside, we know much about the man . . . (‘The Divine Ring,” LDS Business College Devotional, 12 Oct. 2010).

I believe the Lord desires that we pursue literature, music, and arts which ennoble, that we read, listen to, and watch that which lifts our spirits above the vulgar and commonplace. We even declare this standard in the 13th Article of Faith. But this “taste” does not come naturally. For most of us it’s an acquired taste, but once acquired, like my newfound love of classical music, it can become second nature to us.  
Following today’s lesson we went to priesthood meeting and listened to our instructor share how uplifting it was to spend part of his Saturday watching the fourth season of The Andy Griffith Show on Netflix. I guess you have to start somewhere. =)

Followers