Post 112

More thoughts are rattling around in my head, so here we go again.

I've been thinking about Elijah and the priests of Baal. Ever since the first time I heard that story, I've loved it, but mostly because Elijah's so snarky that the story is really very entertaining. But today one specific detail of the story jumped suddenly into my mind and seemed very important to me in my life right now: after the priests of Baal had spent an entire day trying vainly to get their god to perform a miracle, Elijah built an alter, prepared a sacrifice to be burned, and then had the people pour 12 jars of water onto the sacrifice. It's the jars of water that struck me as significant today.

I have always found it fascinating that Elijah told the people to do it (and even more fascinating that they obeyed!) because these people were in the midst of a terrible drought; those twelve jars of water (however much a jar is) were probably very precious. Such faith! Such sacrifice! But this is not what struck me today; today these jars said a very different thing to me.

I don't know for sure that my faith could call fire from heaven, but I have sufficient faith that I can see God's answers to my prayers on a fairly regular basis; my relationship with my Father in heaven in such that I pray with perfect knowledge that He will hear and answer me--mostly by way of guiding me to do certain things. But as I have come to expect the arrival of answers, I have also come to the realization that the answers themselves are sometimes quite unexpected.

Does that make any sense at all? Sorry if I'm being unclear; let's get back to Elijah so I can make this make sense.

Elijah built the alter, put wood on it, got the sacrifice all ready and put it on the alter, and then he drenched it in water. Ya see that? Me, I know full well that God has the power to send down fire to burn up anything He feels inclined to burn--sacrifices, armies, cities--but I'm not entirely sure that, if I was going to ask Him to send down His fire, I'd cover the target with water. You understand? I know God can burn something regardless of how wet it is, but I think that I'd try to keep what I wanted burned as dry as possible, just to--ya know--make it as easy as possible.

But "my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts" (Isaiah 55:8-9). Meaning (in this context, at least) that it really doesn't make a difference to God whether the bullock is covered in water; the meat, the wood, the stone, and the water are all going up either way. And I don't think it's any harder for God to burn them when they're wet--something about the concept of omnipotence says to me that it isn't terribly difficult for Him in the first place. God speaks, the elements obey, and only fools question the fact.

So back to what I was saying earlier about answers to prayers often being unexpected even when their arrival is anticipated: I don't have a very specific direction that I hope for life to take me, but there are a few major things I'd like to do in the next few years--things I'd like to do because I believe that God wants me to do them. But the directives that I've received in answer to some of my recent prayers strike me as extremely counterintuitive--like throwing water on a sacrifice I want Him to burn. Why on earth would He send me south when I know full well that He wants me to go north? I don't know, but I've made the drive from south-central California to Utah and Idaho enough times to know that sometimes it's faster to go south first (compare this map to this one). God understands these little idiosyncrasies far better than we ever can; it's always best to trust Him.

So you have an obstacle that you're praying for God to burn down? Don't be disheartened when he sends rain instead of fire. Who knows, maybe a lightening bolt will come out of the storm. It's hard to say what God will do--even harder to say how He'll do it--but just hold on, have faith, and get ready to witness the miracle because it will come. Just wait; you'll see it. And after it comes, don't forget to thank Him for it, and you'll see miracles throughout your life. I promise.

-[logical gap]-

I've also been thinking about Morianton (though I, for the life of me, could not remember his name until I looked it up just now). In the highly abridged version of Ether that we have in The Book of Mormon, Morianton is one of the many kings whose reign gets little more than a hundred words. I imagine very few of even the most devout Mormons know who he is--as I have already said, I certainly wouldn't know him by name--but Morianton catches my attention every time I'm reading through Moroni's whirlwind abridgment of the Jaredite civilization, and I think we have a lot to learn from him.

As was fairly typical of their society, the Jaredites were suffering serious wars and political dissension when Morianton came on the seen, but he "gathered an army of outcasts" (Ether 10:9) and "established himself king" (v10) and managed to unite the people into a state of peace and prosperity. He "built up many cities, and the people became exceedingly rich under his reign" (v12) and "he did gain favor in the eyes of the people" (v10). He was a hero, and the people loved him.

But Moroni tells us that Morianton "did justice unto the people, but not unto himself because of his many whoredoms; wherefore he was cut off from the presence of the Lord" (v11). This, to me, is the worst sort of tragedy. Morianton was, I suppose, a great man in many regards, and he did great things in his extraordinarily long life, but he didn't have his priorities straight, so he probably didn't fare too well after his death.

Morianton is, to me, the absolute personification of the American mindset. He's got everything going for him--he's a great leader, a powerful warrior, a political genius--but he lives without God and is therefore lost. It brings to mind Jesus' rhetorical question "For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?"

We need great leaders and powerful executives for our society to keep running, but I fear that many who lead us do not live exemplary lives. Rather than being like Morianton, we need our leaders to be--and we ourselves need to be--more like another great Jaredite king Emer, who "did execute judgement in righteousness all his days... and he saw peace in the land; yea, and he even saw the Son of Righteousness, and did rejoice and glory in his day; and he died in peace" (Ether 9:21-22).