Enter a search term below. If searching by episode number be sure to include the comma, for example 4,707
Scholars have come to classify the different periods of mankind's history according to the most prominent human urges of the time. The era which produced the treasures of Greek literature and philosophy is now known as the Golden Age of Thought. That epoch during the 17th and 18th centuries when explorers and scientists uncovered new facts about our world is called the Age of Discovery. More recently, the Age of Technology has made the machine our servant.
Yes, awake thou wintry earth. Fling off thy sadness. . . renew thy bright array with fairest blooms of spring. Ah, the sights and sounds and smells of spring—the shimmer of dancing rain. . . the aroma of fresh turned soil. . . the promise of pink in an apricot bloom. . . the glint of morning sunlight on the window sill. No wonder we feel that increased vigor each morning.
On the world’s highest mountains there comes a point beyond which no tree can grow.
Centuries ago Augustine described the simple blessings of his world. He wrote, "How (pleasant) is the alternation of day and night. How abundant the supply of clothing furnished us by trees and animals. Who can enumerate all the blessings we enjoy?"1 Who indeed but you know.
The sound of this great Choir reminds us that music is one of the simple pleasures of life. It affects everyone. It moves and motivates. . . releases emotional tensions. . . keeps sensitivities alive. . . and helps exercise imaginations—not as an escape, but as a meaningful addition to life. For ages music has been used to heal the sick and comfort the distressed.
We have all seen the remarkable construction of the chambered seashell—how each year the developing marine animal adds another compartment to its home, making a larger, expanded dwelling to accommodate the annual growth. Oliver Wendell Holmes’ observation of this phenomenon led him to a conclusion about man's own need for continued growth and development. Speaking of the chambered nautilus, he wrote:
Is there really, somewhere, in a meadow far away, still a shepherdess who sings all day while she watches her flocks? If there is, we are separated from her by a thousand cares, our world caught up in crisis, strung with personal tensions and responsibilities that tie us up and bind our songs within our hearts. For too many of us the world is bleak and gray and cold, and we are breathless with hurry as we rush from one job to another. No time for meadows or easy songs.
A dynamic and optimistic executive was once asked if he ever got discouraged. His quick reply was a pearl of insight. He said, "I don't get discouraged, but I do get tired. The Lord surely knew what He was doing when He put a night between two days."
Oh divine Redeemer…turn me not away…grant me pardon and…remember not my sins… oh divine Redeemer. 1
Of all the sicknesses which afflict man, homesickness is at once the easiest to contract and the most difficult to cure. For we can be exposed to this infirmity with a simple change of scenery or even a temporary move from familiar surroundings. We all remember our first extended leave from home: whether we were at camp, the home of relatives, or away at school—the symptom was always the same; it is the inexplicable longing for the one place we call home.
The turn of a decade, perhaps even more than the turn of a year, is a time for reflection, a summing up of where we've been, where the last ten years have taken us. Many observers have called it an age of turbulence and disappointment, a time when optimism was dashed by the problems and challenges of a changing world. Some have called it a time of retreat from old values and old assumptions about the way things are or ought to be. And many look to this new decade with all the unease of a child who wakes up in a strange house in a dark room.
Nothing in life is quite so fleeting as the present moment. It quicky passes to become forever a memory. Thomas Aldrich wrote: “All the best sands of my life are somehow getting into the wrong end of the hourglass.”1 Indeed life does pass more quickly than we think, and suddenly we’re older.
As we pause this Thanksgiving Season to reflect on the blessings of life, let us also pause to consider the way in which we show our appreciation. True thankfulness is expressed not only in what we say, but also in what we do. Gratitude is essential but it will have far greater meaning when it is coupled with action.
“One thing is forever good;” said Emmerson, and “That one thing is Success.”1 There is a great exhilaration which comes to one through honest, well-earned achievement. To plan well, work hard and persist to the end brings one of life’s sweetest rewards: the feeling of accomplishment.
There are many rewards I life worth planning and working for – education, careers, marriage, a family, and retirement, to name only a few. Nearly everyone plans for the future and that is a good and necessary part of life. But as in most things, moderation is important – an excess can be dangerous.
Moments of discouragement come to everyone. They are a part of life. And although not always desired, they are certainly to be expected. Emerson Fosdick said, "One who expects completely to escape low moods is asking the impossible."1 And so our challenge is not to live a life free of discouragement, but to know we can overcome it.
There is a quote from Seneca which says, "Most powerful is he who has himself in his power."1 Indeed, self-control is one of our greatest challenges and the gateway to our greatest opportunities. "Man has two creators," said William George Jordan, "his god and himself. His first creator furnishes him the raw material of his life ... [but] it is what man makes of himself that counts."2
A great American pioneer once said, "We shall never see the time when we shall not need to be taught."1 Learning and growing is a basic part of life, and to progress is the very reason for our existence here upon earth. But with our learning we must also obtain understanding. As Solomon was counseled by his father, “Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore, get wisdom and with all they getting get understanding.”2
We recently spoke of the need to be forgiving. The best place to practice and develop that principle is in our homes as we conduct our daily family affairs.
“To err is human,” wrote Alexender Pope; “to forgive divine.”1
Our character is what distinguishes us from others. It is the way we think and act when no one is looking, when we are sure no one will ever find out what we have done. It is what we really are, not what others think we are.
The balm of Gilead is a substance obtained from the sap of a small evergreen tree, with aromatic branches that supposedly soothed and healed. As song1 says, the healing was not always of the body, but of the "sin-sick soul" as well.
No compassionate, loving person can condone the violence that seems so widespread in the world today. Recent events at the XX Olympiad in Munich have gained world-wide attention and quickly bring to mind the troubled conditions which plague our planet.
"Home, home, sweet, sweet home, Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home."1 For most of us, no matter who we are or where we go in life, there is always a particular place in some corner of the world we can call our own. And there is no better way to appreciate this spot than to be away from it. Those who spend much of their time travelling are the first to admit that the best part of any trip is the return home.
Every Sunday for more than 43 years, the Salt Lake Mormon Tabernacle Choir has broadcast one of the great joys of life - the sound of music. Today the Choir celebrates its 125th anniversary. The group began singing in 1847, beneath a wooden bowery in Salt Lake City. Over the years thousands have belonged to the Choir and millions of notes have been sung, all in an effort to express the joys of life through song.
Life for all of us has its problems. It has been said that life is a problem-solving existence which will defeat us if we let it. But I has also been said that no man ever sank under the burden of one day. It is when tomorrow’s burden is added that the weight becomes unbearable.
When Paul Revere made his famous ride through the streets of Boston, he did so because of love and reverence for this country – a young and threatened land that held promise of hope and glory. And he was willing to do it because he must have realized that freedom is not easily obtained that it does not come without effort and sacrifice.
One of the world's most vibrant and challenged groups is today's youth. According to the 1970 census, in the United States alone, nearly one-half of the population is under twenty-five years of age. And more than ha If of that number - over fifty-six million - are between the ages of ten and twenty-five.
There is in each of us the seed of self-control, the power to be master of our own character, to act according to our own conscience. But there is also a passion which often gets in the way of self-mastery. It is the loss of one's temper, and it has resulted in more tragedy and sorrow than any other human trait. William Jordan said, "The second most deadly instrument of destruction is the gun - the first is the human tongue."1
There is much we do in life that is courageous, even though we may not think so at the time. Courage is a basic human quality. It gives man stability, confidence, a spirit of self-determination.