"It was the best of times"

Image from A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

These past couple of weeks have been interesting for me.  For a number of reasons, I have found this semester to be extremely challenging.  Class assignments have seemed more challenging, the books less interesting, and the papers harder to write.  Added on top of all that, I have never been one who really enjoys being too far from home.  And this semester, the distance between Fort Worth and Orem has felt more like the distance between Johannesburg and Vancouver.  Needless to say, I have felt a lot of reasons to be on my knees asking for help.

This week, help came in the form of a Valentine's Day package from Julianne, and a couple of valentines from my parents and from my niece and nephew.  Each one of them lifted my spirits and helped things feel a little more manageable.

Part of my package from Julianne was a beautiful copy of Charles Dickens' timeless classic, A Tale of Two Cities.  A Tale of Two Cities contains a valuable lesson that began to dawn upon me this week.  Dickens begins the book with the famous line, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us."  In addition to being a nightmarish sentence for strict grammarians who are forced to bite their tongues because it was written by Dickens, this opening sentence holds an important lesson for us about the value and reality of contrasts.  Sometimes we are quite literally presented both the best of times and the worst of times almost simultaneously.  Experiencing such dynamic and dramatic contrasts, we are left to wonder why life must occasionally feel like the most frightening roller coaster ride we have ever experienced.

As I wondered about these contrasts, I was reminded of two visions that the Prophet Joseph Smith had during his first visit to the Hill Cumorah in 1823.  Upon arriving at the place where the plates were buried, Joseph had uncovered the plates and attempted to remove them from the stone box.  Because his motives had not been quite right (he was tempted by the thought of being able to relieve his family's indigent circumstances with the gold), he was unable to remove the plates at that time.  Moroni then appeared to the boy prophet again and explained why he had not be able to remove the plates.  It was after this explanation that Joseph had the two visions that I explained.  Oliver Cowdery later related the following, which he had apparently learned from Joseph:

"At that instant [Joseph] looked to the Lord in prayer, and as he prayed darkness began to disperse from his mind and his soul was lit up as it was the evening before, and he was filled with the Holy Spirit; and again did the Lord manifest his condescension and mercy: the heavens were opened and the glory of the Lord shone round about and rested upon him.  While he thus stood gazing and admiring, the angel said, 'Look!' and as he thus spake he beheld the prince of darkness, surrounded by his innumerable train of associates.  All this passed before him, and the heavenly messenger said, 'All this is shown, the good and the evil, the holy and impure, the glory of God and the power of darkness, that you may know hereafter the two powers and never be influenced or overcome by that wicked one.  Behold, whatever entices and leads to good and to do good, is of God, and whatever does not is of that wicked one: It is he that fills the hearts of men with evil, to walk in darkness and blaspheme God; and you may learn from henceforth, that his ways are to destruction, but the way of holiness is peace and rest.'" (Oliver Cowdery, "Letter VIII," Messenger and Advocate, October 1835, 2:198).

This experience is both curious and instructive.  The Prophet, having been chastised for his early unrighteous effort to secure the plates contrary to the designs of God, had prayed and repented and then been filled with light.  His repentance was so sincere that he had been privileged to behold the glory and goodness of God.  And then, in a moment, his vision had shifted to a view that no one of us envies, namely, a vision of the adversary and his minions and the evil calculations that move and motivate them.  Less than nine years later, Joseph and Sidney Rigdon would experience a similar contrast as they beheld the visions of the degrees of Glory (see D&C 76); and through his translation of the Bible, Joseph learned that both Moses and Enoch had likewise experienced such stark contrasts (see Moses 1, 7).  

Considering all these examples, I must confess that I am prone to ask "Why?".  Why does the Lord let us experience contrasts?  Why do we often experience the best of times, only to then experience the worst of times?  Why must life occasionally feel like a roller coaster?  It is here that Moroni's subsequent instructions to Joseph become valuable to all of us.  We experience contrasts and contradictions in this world, at least in part, because they are powerful teaching tools.  Joseph's vision of the evil designs of the adversary and his followers only made Joseph realize how much more glorious and bright the goodness, condescensions, and mercy of God that he had just experienced truly were.  Funny though it may seem, experiencing times of darkness helps us to appreciate and recognize the light.  Experiencing moments of pain and feelings of misery helps us to understand, rejoice in, and truly appreciate our days of joy and contentment.

And so, while none of us ever truly enjoys those moments when we struggle, we must remember that these two are gifts from a loving Heavenly Father.  There are profound and life-altering revelations to be found within life's contrasts if we are willing to look for them.  And though we will probably not have Moroni for our guide, we are assured that if we are faithful, we will have the Holy Spirit for our divine tutor, which is as good as having Moroni, who spoke by the power of the Holy Ghost (see 2 Nephi 32:3).  With such divine tutoring, I believe that in the final analysis, we will be able to look back upon this mortal experience and conclude, "It was the best of times."

Brett