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There is a phrase in one of the Psalms that describes a man who might well be the envy of all the world—a man of whom it could be said: "He shall not be afraid of evil tidings." (Psalm 112:7) It is highly improbable that one so richly blessed could be willingly induced to trade places with any other—“He shall not be afraid of evil tidings." If we could somehow find ourselves in a world—or make a world —where this could be true—-we would no doubt know the joy of heaven on earth.
Our world entered upon a new day when it became possible for the great truths of the universe and the lofty thoughts of men not only to be written laboriously for the eyes of the few, but also to be spread in print across the face of earth, so that the thoughts of all who choose to write could be known by all who choose to read—and so the Bible, inspired by the living God, and the great works of science, philosophy, and literature, found their way into the hands of the many instead of just into the hands of the few. Thus printing, the art of preserving for the present and for the future the thoughts of the present and of the past, became the common medium of exchange among all enlightened peoples. But along with the printing and circulation of good ideas, of course, there has also been the printing and circulation of bad ideas.
There is an overworked phrase that has fluently fallen from the lips of many speakers and flowed from the pens of many writers these last several months, which is almost certainly referred to during the course of almost every public speech that is currently delivered. It is that phrase which reminds us that, "We must not only win the war, but we must also win the peace." But regardless of its loose and repetitious use, fundamentally behind this stock phrase is a basic idea that deserves comment. It raises the question: "What does it mean to win a war?" And also the question: "What does it mean to win the peace?"
Our generation has come to see the time when most of the population of earth live their lives from day to day with heavy hearts, with threatening danger, with the fear of uncertainty haunting their sleeping and waking hours. The specter of want, the threat of violence, and the fear of oppression are dread shapes everywhere even among those nations and peoples where they have not yet become real. And then add to this general tragedy the personal grief and worries and disappointments of all the men of all the earth, and the burden of sorrow appears to be such as would crush the spirit of mankind. But this it fails to do, because there is yet abroad in the earth sufficient faith in the ultimate triumph of good, sufficient confidence in the eventual accomplishment of justice, sufficient belief in the Fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man, and sufficient assurance that these days are only a passing phase in the endless sweep of events.
In every generation there are those who would have us believe in unreality, but sooner or later every generation learns to know that the only source of physical and spiritual strength, and indeed, of survival itself, lies in living close to the bedrock fundamentals. This generalization of an obvious truth calls to mind again the legend of the giant, Anteaus, whose strength was unconquerable so long as he remained in contact with his mother, Earth. Many who were compelled to wrestle with him, so runs the story, not knowing the source of his strength, would throw him to earth, from which be would rise stronger than he fell. But, Hercules, forewarned of these things, lifted him high above the strength-giving earth, where Antaeus weakened and perished. There are inferences to be drawn from this classic myth.
The awareness that another year has been measured out to us is always a sobering experience. But this year, with time pressing for decisions that will intimately affect the lives of all of us, we face the uncompromising reality of a new year with intense effort and prayerful waiting and watching, and always with the question in mind: What kind of world shall we live in tomorrow? On broad lines there are some who feel that they know, in accordance with the revealed purposes of the Almighty, what kind of world we shall live in ultimately, but ultimately is not tomorrow; and among those truly endowed with wisdom, perhaps there are none who would care to answer the question in detail—but of this we may be sure, somewhere along the line, whether it be tomorrow or beyond tomorrow, we shall pay a price for all our mistakes, for all our indifference, for all misdirected action.
If we were to measure the accomplishment of ultimate purposes in terms of the lifetime of any one man or any one generation, many things that are certain of eventual fulfillment would seem to have been vain and hopeless.
As we think upon the approaching Christmas, we become aware that there is much cause for disappointment, much cause for gratitude, and much cause for hope:—Disappointment because there are vacant chairs in many homes; because violence covers the face of earth; and because many causes that men have lived and died for seem to have lost much ground. But withal we are reminded that the world's greatest cause has often seemed to be a lost cause—the cause of right against wrong.
When men are faced with the possibility of solemn and sudden events—when the accustomed. pattern of our living seems threatened—there is a tendency on the part of some of us to give up in our thinking and in our doing, and wait for eventualities. And where this attitude prevails, creative activity has a tendency to cease.
Somehow there comes to mind again an old and well-worn subject — a practice that is tritely described by the phrase "following the crowd." The old and unimpressive excuse that we must do certain things because "everybody is doing them" is quite threadbare. In the first place, everybody isn't doing them.
Ofttimes in the face of some eventuality that has overtaken us, we find ourselves saying regretfully.— "If I had only known, I would have done differently." Sometimes this is true, but more often it isn't the fact that we don't know that gets us into difficulties, but rather that we choose to ignore what we do know.
The course of events which our generation has witnessed has brought to the thoughts and to the lips of many this accusing question: "Why would an omnipotent and all-wise and just and merciful God permit such things to happen?" Failing to find the answer that brings peace to their troubled hearts, men, in increasing numbers, lose faith and hope and understanding, and cry out in bitterness against God. But they who find themselves asking this question should be reminded that it is neither the practice nor the purpose of the Creator to force men to be good.
We hear much these days, as we always have, concerning the shaping of public opinion. Always a vital concern to men who live together, public opinion has become yet more so with the extension of mass communication, as the spoken word has been added to the printed page in its appeals to the millions. Abraham Lincoln once said: "He who molds public sentiment goes deeper than he who enacts statutes or pronounces decisions."— And what was true in his day is true with increased intensity in ours, with our far-reaching facilities for communication, and with the ever-widening control of the sources of information in so much of the world.
There is a very old theme that comes again to mind—so old, indeed, that anyone who presumes to comment upon it, must risk the accusation of being old-fashioned—which, after all, is just a modern way of saying that you are reminding someone of something which makes them uncomfortable—especially if they need to be reminded of it.
There has come within the observation of all of us the type of person who loudly proclaims his right to live his life as he chooses, regardless of what anyone else thinks about it. His contention is that his life is his own, and what he does with it is none of anyone else's business.
It is probable that every thinking man, and it is certain that every generation, has asked the question: “What is Truth?” By some truth has been defined as a variable—a relative term. Those who take this position contend that what is commonly thought to be true by the constituted authorities of any particular generation is true for that time. That is to say that what is generally believed to be true today, is true for this day. But to say this is also to say that what was believed to be true yesterday was true yesterday. In other words, if a man stands in the pulpit or in the marketplace or in the classroom and proclaims what he and his generation believe to be the truth, it is. said by some that he is speaking the truth.
So sure and unfailing is the certainty with which remorse follows our misdoing, it is greatly to be wondered that men persist in disregarding the rules of life. Perhaps there may be some who would ask what there is to restrain us or to induce us to do otherwise. Certainly not threat of physical punishment. Fear of physical punishment never made a good man in any land in any age.
There comes forward in the train of our thoughts a much-discussed question— the question of. moral force. Moral force is a thing to be reckoned with, is it always has been in the affairs of men. It 'is one of the few weapons in the world that does not become obsolete. It has led many peoples to victory after they have suffered physical defeat. And yet, without it fortresses crumble, guns become useless, and men lose heart and give up. It is one of the few things that a dictator cannot ignore and ride over.
We live in a day when every standard of value is being challenged, and religion has not escaped the challenge. Perhaps this is because men have asked too much of religion and too little of themselves.
One of the widely accepted methods by which we determine the truth or falsity of any theory is that which we call "trial and error"—which is to say in common language, if you have doubts concerning a thing, try it, put it to the test. If it works it is true; if it doesn't it is false. In the physical world, in the world of things and materials, such experimentation has proved its worth many times over, and has led to many great factual discoveries. But every man cannot prove all things by trial and error—nor is it necessary.
One of the scholarly scientists of our day not long ago wrote these words: "We are learning more and more the high cost of discovering the truth about anything. Our subject matter is so complex that we never reach more than half-truths and first approximations." This wholesome admission offers a viewpoint which scholar- ship in all its fields would do well to keep in mind. It is very comforting and significant to the layman, also.
It was said of Ishmael, before he was born: "his hand will be against every man, and every man's hand against him." (Genesis 16:12.) There are some people who remind us of this—people who are against the world and who think that the world is against them. But there are some things that all honest men are against—-our thoughts, our voices and our feelings are set against the evil that is abroad. We resent the brutality that has been unloosed.
The clamor of voices to which our cars are daily subjected brings strikingly to mind a phrase from the First Epistle of Paul to the Corinthians, in which he said: "There are … so many kinds of voices in the world, and none of them is without signification." (I Corinthians 14:10)
As we send our children off to school, there to spend many of the hours of their lives, many parents are suspected of unburdening a sigh of relief. We are busy people, we parents, especially these days, and with the great pressure of life upon us, too many of us fondly suppose that when we turn our children over to the school or some other public agency, our responsibility ceases.
To certain of His children whose ways were in error there once came from the Lord God a word of sharp reprimand. Of them He said: "They ... have sinned a very grievous sin, in that they are walking in darkness at noon-day." (Doctrine and Covenants 95:6.) It is doubtful if any phrase more trenchantly descriptive of our time has ever been spoken or written in like number of words—"they are walking in darkness at noon-day."
In times of stress and disturbance, there are always those who rightly know that the ills of the world are the direct result of man's having broken the laws of God—having broken the rules of life. But there are also those who, in such times, cry out that God doesn't exist, because if He did, He would not have permitted men to bring about such unthinkable conditions—those who, in their resentment against the evils of the day, would eliminate God from the universe.
It would seem that we have gone far beyond that point where any mere rationalization of the issues of life would give any of us much satisfaction. We have come to a time when nothing but the bedrock facts will suffice—not only the immediate facts, but the greater facts that underlie all things, and reach beyond the present.
One of the things most evident in our shifting way of life is the severing of old ties, the abandonment of old associations, the uprooting from things to which we have been long attached.
Perhaps the time has come again to remind ourselves that things are not important as our attitude toward them. It is time to remind ourselves of this because material comforts promise to be less of a factor in our lives in the immediate future than they have been in the past.
"Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom." Perhaps we have never before been so much aware of the encircling gloom as we are at this time—a gloom of hate, of oppression; a gloom of ignorance, and of cynicism; the gloom of lost honor, broken promises, and abandoned morals—a gloom that has cast its pall over the face of earth.