Justice in Death – Sunday, May 30, 1943
On this day we hold in honored remembrance those who have preceded us to another life. For some the day has been long observed and time has eased their heartaches and restored quiet pleasure in memories. But to many it is a time of acute sorrow, a time of vigil beside fresh graves—and to some even this is denied. They weep, but they may not visit the resting place of those for whom they weep. The attitudes and feelings of men toward death, both as it concerns themselves and others, vary greatly according to their beliefs and their faith and experiences. Some question the judgments of God.
Some find bitterness because of the circumstances and the seeming needlessness of the causes of death. With our limited understanding, often we do not agree with the time and the place and the manner in which men come and go. We see many live and prosper, who, according to our way of thinking, may not deserve to do either. We see many die, who, from our point of view, have earned the right to live and whose presence among us is sorely needed. And if, with our limited perspective and understanding, we were called upon to give an explanation of the pattern of life and death as it daily takes shape before our eyes, we might be led to conclude that in it all there is lack of purpose, lack of justice, lack of consistency. But fortunately for us and for all men it has not been given unto us to judge, nor to execute, nor to measure out the days and the years.
We so often overlook the thought voiced by Isaiah: “The righteous perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart: and merciful men are taken away, none considering that the righteous is taken away from the evil to come. He shall enter into peace: they shall rest … each one walking in his uprightness.” (Isaiah 57:1,2). We may be most grateful that such matters belong to the Lord God our Father, who sees things past and things to come. And the assurance is ours, we who grieve for those who have preceded us, that there is justice in death—and also in that life to follow, of which death is the way of entrance. “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” (Psalm 30:5.) This certainty we may take unto our troubled hearts, that bitterness may give way to peace, that sorrow may yield to understanding.
By Richard L. Evans, spoken from the Tabernacle, Temple Square, Salt Lake City, Memorial Day, Sunday, May 30, 1943, over Radio Station KSL and the Columbia Broadcasting System. Revised from the book “This Day … and Always”; copyright, 1942, Harper & Brothers, New York.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
May 30, 1943
Broadcast Number 0,719