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In 1846, thousands of people in the midwestern United States were persecuted for their beliefs and forced from their homes in the dead of winter. They didn’t consider themselves pioneers, but suddenly they were—walking across the western wilderness in search of refuge, a place where they could worship their God and practice their faith. Some traveled by wagon, others by handcart, but they all had to walk and walk and walk many hundreds of miles. There were no roads or restaurants, no inns or waystations to enter and rest along the way. But the fire of their faith kept them warm, and their convictions kept them moving.
We opened today’s broadcast the same way we opened The Tabernacle Choir’s first-ever broadcast 90 years ago: with a stirring hymn titled “The Morning Breaks, the Shadows Flee.” It was composed by George Careless, former conductor of the Choir, and looking back, it was the perfect way to begin the weekly tradition of Music and the Spoken Word—with a song about “the dawning of a brighter day” majestically rising “on the world.” Mornings, after all, bring hope. The dawn is a signal of promise and possibility and encouragement. And this is what Music and the Spoken Word has brought to the world for nine decades now. No one knew it at the time, but July 15, 1929, marked the dawning of the longest continuously broadcast network program in history.
There are many things in life that can be done alone. You can play a piano alone—or a violin or guitar or any other musical instrument. You can sing a solo, give a speech, or recite a poem alone. But then there are other things—some of the most beautiful—that simply can’t be done alone. For example, you can’t sing barbershop alone. Barbershop singing, by definition, involves joining with others in vocal harmony. It’s about music, but it’s also about community, about working together to create a thing of beauty.
Nathan Hale was a schoolteacher, fresh out of college, teaching in a one-room school in New London, Connecticut, when the American Colonies went to war against the British in 1775. Inspired by the cause of independence, he joined the fight and quickly rose to the rank of captain. But the colonists faced a series of defeats in the early months of the revolution, and victory did not seem likely. It was in these circumstances that General George Washington asked for volunteers to spy on the British forces. It was a dangerous mission, and being captured would mean certain death. At first no one volunteered. Then 21-year-old Nathan Hale—alone—stepped forward.
When physical or emotional illness strikes, our immediate need is to be healed. Whether it’s a scraped knee or a broken heart, a serious disease or a deep sadness, what we long for, first and foremost, is freedom from pain. We simply want to be healed.
Good fathers make a big difference in the lives of their children—bigger, in fact, than they might realize. Fathers often try to share with their children some of their hard-won wisdom—lessons about work, integrity, and perseverance. But most children will tell you they remember less of what their fathers say and more of what they do—who they are. How blessed are the many sons and daughters who can say, “I want to be just like my dad,” or “Whenever I’m not sure what to do, I think about my dad and try to follow his example.”
A national newspaper grabbed attention recently with this headline: “The Best Bosses Are Humble Bosses.” At first, that may seem to contradict conventional wisdom—that a good leader is dynamic, dominating, and bold. But it’s been found that people who work for humble bosses exhibit better teamwork and perform at higher levels. Not surprisingly, when a leader listens to the perspective of others and constantly seeks to learn and improve, the people who follow that leader are likely to do the same. That doesn’t mean leaders should be passive or indifferent. On the contrary, as one expert observed: “Humble leaders can also be highly competitive and ambitious. But they tend to avoid the spotlight and give credit to their teams.”1 As a result, some employers today are making humility one of the key qualities they look for in applicants, even for entry-level positions. Humility, they have found, will help their organization thrive and achieve its goals.
Every life is different; the only predictable pattern is that all of us experience a mix of joy and sadness, happiness and heartache—usually occurring unpredictably. No matter how carefully we plan, setbacks—large and small—can disrupt our plans. We settle into a good job, a relationship, a neighborhood, and then life surprises us.
The flag of the United States has flown on the earth and the moon, on the home front and the battlefront, in conflict and in peace. Something stirs within us when we see this red, white, and blue “emblem of the land [we] love, the home of the free and the brave.”1
Is there such a thing as a “perfect family”? Obedient children, abundantly patient parents, with endless bliss at home—we fantasize about it, because that’s exactly what it is: a fantasy. In reality we all have struggles, seen or unseen, that pull at the fabric of our family. And that cloth knows both tears and tears as we watch loved ones make choices that break our hearts.
Much of the world’s most important work is done by people who don’t get much recognition. Teachers, farmers, laborers, military personnel, emergency responders, and so many others all play such vital roles in our society, and yet they often do it quietly, without the appreciation they deserve. And for no one is that more true than for mothers.
On the 10th day of May 1869, at a remote promontory north of the Great Salt Lake, Central Pacific Railroad official Leland Stanford struck a golden spike into a railroad tie. It marked the connecting point between the Central Pacific and Union Pacific rail lines, a railroad that now spanned the breadth of the United States. Bill Smoot, a local 15-year-old, had signed on to help with the work as it passed through Utah Territory. He later recalled, “I caught the railroad fever, even though I had never even seen a picture of a railroad or a train of cars.” 1
The first time famed cellist Yo-Yo Ma ever performed as a young boy, he played a piece by Johann Sebastian Bach. In the 60 years since then, he has performed works by scores of other composers, but he finds himself constantly returning to Bach. When asked why that is, Yo-Yo Ma explained: “At each stage of your life, you go back and discover new things. The way I understand Bach now is with the analogy of a river. It’s like you’re touching a living stream of water that keeps flowing, and by touching it or listening to it or playing it, you are in touch with something much bigger than yourself. It changes from day to day, from season to season and from year to year.” 1
Years ago, a man who raised corn came home from tending his crop and sadly told his wife that it looked like the corn was going to be a complete loss this year because it was full of aphids. This was devastating news because the family depended on the harvest each year. Together they worried and then prayed that somehow the corn would be saved.
Not long ago, a three-year-old girl was watching a movie with her family. With a puzzled look on her face, she pointed at the screen and said, “Mom, that chicken is weird!”
Every person deserves to be remembered, acknowledged, and appreciated. Unfortunately, not every person is. Who among us has not felt forgotten or unnoticed at times? In many ways, modern life seems so impersonal, with more tools for communication but fewer true connections or deep relationships. Too many people feel alone, even when surrounded by a crowd.
As we get older, we tend to look at ourselves, others, and the world around us quite differently than when we were younger. Hopefully, we’ve learned a few things, gained wisdom and friendships along the way, and done our part to contribute to the world. Sometimes we become more interested in things that before didn’t capture our attention.
Many of us are searching for ways to feel a little better—physically and emotionally. When aches and pains escalate, we feel thankful for modern medicines that can help restore our health. But there is another kind of treatment that some people are calling free medicine, or “a prescription you can’t fill in a pharmacy”: time spent in nature.
When the 2018 Nobel Prizes were awarded, an international trio of laser scientists shared the award in physics. Among them was 96-year-old Dr. Arthur Ashkin, believed to be the oldest person to ever receive a Nobel Prize. One might think that at his age, this achievement would be the ideal conclusion to a long career, a final exclamation point on a life of hard work. Dr. Ashkin doesn’t seem to think so. He “told Nobel officials that he might not be available for interviews about the award because he is very busy working on his next scientific paper.” 1
Each season of the year brings new weather, different challenges, and fresh opportunities for those who open their eyes and heart.
At the state funeral for former United States President George H. W. Bush in December 2018, former Canadian Prime Minister Brian Mulroney ended the eulogy of his dear friend with these words: “There are wooden ships, there are sailing ships, there are ships that sail the sea. But the best ships are friendships, and may they always be.”1
We’ve all experienced it: a family member, a coworker, or a perfect stranger says or does something to us that is downright rude. Maybe it was an impolite comment, an offensive joke, or some other sign of disrespect. Yes, we’ve all been on the receiving end of such incivility, and perhaps, from time to time, we’ve even been on the giving end.
According to popular legend, an officer in the Revolutionary War once directed his men to fell some trees and construct a much-needed bridge. As the soldiers struggled mightily with the task, an imposing-looking man rode up and, observing their work, said to the officer, “You don’t have enough men for the job, do you?”
To be human is to love. We become our best and truest selves only when we stop focusing on ourselves and start loving others. Love gives richness and beauty to life. People who love are able to keep going forward during difficulties and experience authentic joy.
Can your eyes be fooled? It actually happens every day. What looks like a leaf sometimes turns out to be a well-camouflaged insect. A shadow on the wall can make a harmless tree branch look like something much more menacing. And the objects in a rear-view mirror are often closer than they appear.
You don’t have to be a sailor or even a swimmer to know what it feels like to be thrown overboard into a stormy sea and struggle to keep your head above water. Life can feel that way sometimes. Fear and uncertainty crash and swirl all around us, and we feel that all we can do is hold on for dear life—if we could only find something to hold onto. To make matters worse, sometimes people and organizations we once trusted let us down. And so we wonder, where can we turn for peace? Where can we find safety and solace to our souls? Whom can we really trust?
Nelson Mandela spent nearly 27 years of his life in prison, from age 45 to age 71, for his efforts to end racial segregation in South Africa. Then, in what some people consider a modern miracle, Mandela became his country’s first black—and first democratically elected—president.1 But perhaps a greater miracle was his forgiveness of those who had imprisoned him. Nelson Mandela’s rare combination of courage and kindness made him one of the world’s most beloved leaders and citizens. But Mandela remained modest and unassuming, often reminding people, “I am not a saint—unless you think of a saint as a sinner who keeps on trying.” 2
Not long ago, a man ran into an old high school friend, one he had not seen for many decades. He remembered his classmate as a reckless teenager, but he was now well into his 60s, and he was noticeably different: certainly more responsible and mature, but also kinder and more caring. What a pleasure it was to get reacquainted with this new version of his long-lost friend. He couldn’t help but ponder what experiences must have influenced him over those many years. What heartache and happiness, what successes and sorrows had shaped him and made him into the person he had become?
Life is often compared to a pathway. And, as most of us know by experience, that pathway is rarely smooth and straight. Rather, it takes us on a journey of peaks and valleys, twists and turns. Some of these are expected: Childhood passes into youth. Youthful life evolves into adulthood and, eventually, into life’s twilight. We know these changes are coming, and we can prepare ourselves to transition from one stage to another.
As we close the calendars on one year, we open them to another. We reflect on days past and anticipate days ahead; we look back and we look forward every time we begin another year.