It is related in the history of the Lord Jesus Christ, that upon a
certain occasion (after some of His marvelous works), He was followed
by a great number of people; and upon noticing that this continued, He
called His disciples and said—
"I have compassion on the multitude, because they continue with me now
three days, and have nothing to eat: and I will not send them away
fasting, lest they faint by the way. And his disciples said unto him,
Whence should we have so much bread in the wilderness as to fill so
great a multitude? And Jesus saith unto them, How many loaves have ye?
And they said Seven, and a few little fishes. And he commanded them to
sit down on the ground. And he took the seven loaves and the fishes,
and gave thanks, and brake them, and gave to his disciples, and the
disciples to the multitude. And they did all eat, and were filled: and
they took up of the broken meat that was left seven baskets full.
And they that did eat were four thousand men, beside women and
children."
In looking upon a congregation like the present, I think that every
Elder in Israel must feel that from the few small loaves and fishes
which he may have accumulated in his experience, he is unable to feed
and supply the necessities of the multitude before him. But while he
occupies the position, he realizes that the infinite resources of the
Holy Spirit are within general reach, and that this can be supplied
and so administered as to bring home the little food that may be
presented; and that by the processes of its multiplication,
every man and every woman, and all the youth who are assembled, may
have their "portion of meat in due season," they may go away satisfied
and refreshed and fitted for the duties of life, and their minds may
be so expanded as to realize that through the inspiration of the
spirit there is more left than appeared at the beginning. If this
result depended upon a man's native intelligence, if it were to come
alone from the narrow field of his own experience, in my opinion it
would be presumptuous in one to expect to be able to do much good. But
the Elder who stands before the congregations of Israel, realizes that
he is but the instrument, that he is but the medium, and that he needs
to be taught as well as to be the medium for teaching; that he needs
to be fed, as well as to be the instrument of feeding others; that his
character and capacity are pretty much like the majority of those who
are in communion with the same Church; that if he is to grow, to
increase, to acquire strength, to become filled with intelligence,
that he must reach beyond the confines of man's thought; that he must
get beyond the boundaries of man's experience, that he must draw his
supplies from resources which are greater than those that man
controls; and that it is only from this outreaching that he will be
able to satisfy the wellings of that spirit within him which desires
to comprehend and to accumulate and to enjoy all truth.
The many agencies which are at work among the Latter-day Saints, to
bring to pass the purposes of the Almighty, are more or less
understood by all. I think that there are none of us scarcely, who
would claim the title of "Master of Arts." We are all, I think,
satisfied to be ac knowledged (and to feel it an honor and a privilege
to be acknowledged) as students or pupils in the great school of the
Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. We have all comprehended the depths
of our ignorance; we have all realized that the training which has
been necessary for us, the lessons which have been given unto us had
to be adapted to our capacity and to our condition; no matter how high
our spirits might soar in anticipations of the present or the future
that spreads before us—when we have come to ourselves; when we have
really felt our insignificance, when we have realized how easily we
are influenced by temptations that are opposed to our best interest;
when we realize how easily we are diverted by the fashions and
frivolities of life; when we realize how we are cast down by
opposition, and how the efforts of our enemies seem measurably to test
our faith—I say, when we realize that these are the feelings of the
masses of the people, we then comprehend that we need to be buoyed up
and sustained by a power that is vastly higher and greater than
ourselves.
We are a good deal in the condition of our boys when they go to
school. They come in contact with those who are far in advance of
themselves; in their simple primary lessons they realize what an
immense gulf there is between them and their preceptor. And when in
our ignorance we realize how far we are behind many of those who have
grown gray with experience, who have been passive to the reception of
the spirit of revelation, who have been able to grasp a large amount
of truth, and to comprehend the bearings which one truth had upon its
neighbor truth, (all together jointly working out that process which
is called and constitutes education in the life of a Saint), we
have had our ambition stirred, our feelings wrought up, our minds
illuminated by the influences of this same spirit of inspiration.
Sometimes this has been in reading the productions of the old
Prophets, sometimes in listening to the champions of the Gospel in our
day, sometimes in sitting beneath the combined influences of the hosts
of thoughtful men and women among the congregations of the Saints.
Probably we might illustrate, for a moment or two, how the changes we
look for are likely to be brought to pass, and the ways have been
presented to us from time to time. And if the illustration is drawn
from homely things, I hope that it will bring home to the good Saints
and to this audience the truth sought to be established.
Many of the inhabitants of this Territory are agriculturists—tilling
the soil of these mountain valleys. Looking at it naturally, it would
not seem to be so highly productive, or to yield the vast advantages
which spring from tillage, that subsequent experience seems to
confirm. But here is a man engaged in this occupation who has had a
measure of experience, and who knows, at all events, the rudimentary
principles which pertain to his occupation.
In the beautiful months of summer he walks into his field. He
remembers his labor there, how he took pride in the preparation of
that field for the harvest which he desired. It was well ploughed; it
was well harrowed; it was well seeded; and as the spring rains
descended it became clothed in a garment of lustrous green. As the
weeks pass by it advances towards a higher form, even towards
maturity, until with the warmth of the increasing sun, and partly as
the product of the good cultivation which it has had, it glows in this
sunshine of the summer with the promise of an abundant harvest.
The farmer, realizing the destiny of the grain, was disposed to
question it, after the manner of the fables we read in the days of our
childhood. He goes into this field of grain as the passing cloud flits
over it; as the wind sweeps across its face he notices how it bends
with its weight and wealth of grain, he admires its beauty and he
says, "What a magnificent field of wheat is here." And addressing
himself to it he suggests:
"How would you like to be presented to the king?"
The wheat is growing up in the dark soil of the earth, having no idea
of its purpose or future; but the question being asked, it lifts
itself in pride, it rejoices in the prospect that is suggested, and
finally says:
"Yes, I would like to be presented to the king."
But by and by, as it colors to ripeness, the laborers come, and with
the reaping machines or sickle they go to work in this beautiful field
of grain, and before it knows where it is, instead of waving in the
sun and enjoying the elements surrounding it, it finds itself lying
prone upon the earth. And as it lies thus prostrate, the question
naturally arises, "How is the promise of my master going to be
fulfilled? How am I to reach the destiny to which he alluded?" While
it is pondering over the situation, more laborers come along, and they
take it and bind it into bundles; and the wheat wonders to itself
whether the bundling process is a step towards its destiny. By and by
another set of hands comes, and the bundled wheat is set on ends, in
(what they call in the part of the nation from which I came) the form
of "stooks." After the stooks have been formed, a cap-sheaf is
put on them, to protect the grain from the changes of the weather. It
stands a while in this condition, undergoing the mellowing process;
but after standing sufficiently in this form, another gang of laborers
come along, and thrusting their steel forks into the sheaves, pitch
them on to wagons and haul them away to the barnyard, where they are
put into a stack. Here it remains probably for a time, undergoing
another process, passing another stage, which fits it better for its
final use. But it does not remain very long before it is moved again;
this time it passes through the threshing machine. It goes through the
beaters, and is subject to the fan, and is thus separated from the
straw and chaff. It is then put into sacks and tied up at the mouth,
and after a while it is hauled away to the mill, and there it is put
into the smutter, and cleansed from foul seed, smut, &c.; then passing
between the upper and nether millstones, it is ground almost to
powder; from thence it must perforce pass through the bolt, and
finally comes out fine, or very fine flour, according to the quality
of the wheat, or the design of the miller. But notwithstanding the
many changes it has undergone, its end is not yet; it is not yet in a
condition to realize the fulfillment of the promise. The flour is now
taken home to the good housewife, who puts a little of it into a pan,
and then pours hot or cold water upon it, and adds the elements which
cause fermentation; and then it assumes another condition. It begins
to think again, "Surely my destiny is now about to be fulfilled." But
the good wife takes it, and works it, and kneads it into loaves, and
finally opens the oven door and thrusts it as it were into the
furnace. By this time it thinks that its end has come; it is now about
to be consumed. After it has undergone this baking process for a
while, it comes forth from the oven a beautiful, brown, pleasant,
well-flavored loaf, in which condition it is fit to be presented to
the highest authority in the land.
Now, to return again. Here is the human family unconscious of their
origin, unconscious of their destiny. But the Elders of this Church go
forth and tell mankind that they are the children of their common
Father; that they had their origin in the eternal worlds; that there
lies before them a grand and sublime destiny; and they say, inasmuch
as this is so, how would you like again to be presented to your
Father—to the King? How would you like to return to His presence, and
to enjoy His smiles. How would you like to be brought back again to
the surroundings you once enjoyed? And as the stirring impulses of
these warm thoughts rush through the hearts of the listeners in the
midst of the nations of the earth, their minds begin to expand and
their hearts begin to swell with the newfound dignity thus spread
before them, and in the promise of the future; but by and by there is
a change in their condition; in the pride of their hearts, under the
inspiration of those men who thus taught and counseled them, they
thought they were going to be somebody. But other contingencies of
life were upon them. The sickle is at their roots; adverse
circumstances come along, and withal they are perhaps laid low upon a
bed of sickness; and when they least expect it they are called to pass
through the valley of humiliation. And under these circumstances they
inquire, Is this the way through which I am to pass into the presence
of the King? The Elders who first prompted them to these
ennobling thoughts have now induced them to take another step in this
preparatory process. They repent of their sins; they go down into the
waters of baptism and become members of the Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints, and they are now bound in bundles, or, as they are
called, "branches;" and when they are tied up in this fashion there is
a cap-sheaf put over them in the authority of a presiding officer of
the branch. I know that occasionally there are those in the lower
sheaves who are disposed to find fault with the position they occupy.
They say, we are just as good wheat as you can find on the cap sheaf;
we are just as valuable, we possess just as much intelligence; but
while this is the case, and they may rebel, yet they finally realize
that there is an order in the organization with which they are
identified, and the increase of the spirit of intelligence tells them
that the same destiny, the same grand future awaits the wheat in the
sheaves that stand upon the ground, as it does the wheat which crowns
the pile.
But a new impulse begins to work in their hearts, and the agents came
along and gathered them up to the railroad and to the steamboat. "From
the east and the west, and the north and the south," they are taken
away in a body and placed in the form of, or in the stackyard—this is
the gathering place in Zion. They are with the body of the Church, in
a larger form, than they were in the little branches in the old world.
And after they have been in the stack a while, they begin to look
around and to ponder upon the changes which they meet from time to
time; they find themselves in the midst of new conditions; that they
are surrounded with new combinations of circumstances, subject to new
influences. Soon they discover that they have reached the
threshingfloor of the Almighty, and as they pass through the
cylinders (as it were), through the trials and friction which belong
to the gathering place of the Saints, as their defects and surplusage
become apparent, there may be groaning in spirit, but the conclusion
is reached that they need to lay off the straw of old tradition, the
chaff of early training, the influences and powers which molded them
in the past, and to make themselves satisfied with every process
pertaining to the present and the future.
By and by they come forth from the threshing machine measurably
divested of extraneous and comparatively useless characteristics; but
no sooner have they got through than change is on them again; they
find themselves in the mill, and between the upper and nether
millstones at that—between the friction of their enemies and the
direction of the authorities in the Church of Christ, they are almost
ground to powder, in order that they may know themselves, that they
may understand their characteristics or defects, and that they may be
the better prepared for the future.
After a while a man is called upon a mission. He goes out to colonize
the desert, or he is sent to the nations of the earth, and here comes
the kneading process. The call may be to a hot or a cold country, to a
pleasant place or a disagreeable one, but he all the time realizes
that his character is changing, that it is being molded into a higher
form, becoming more and more willing, yet also becoming solidified and
established. And after having been thus kneaded and watered until in
thought and inspiration, he begins to ferment, he is again
molded into still another form and thrust into the oven, that it may
consume that which is evil, that he may throw off those gases that are
unnecessary for his future, and having passed through this process, he
comes forth purified, as it were by fire, and fitted for the Master's
presence.
I presume that all the Latter-day Saints are more or less acquainted
with these trials through which they have passed—with the influences
that have been at work upon them since they yielded obedience to the
Gospel. You that are from the old world, or from the new, will realize
the feelings of joy and of gladness with which you received the
Gospel. You will comprehend how, for the moment your judgment was
carried captive by the power of the Spirit of God; how you realized
the grandeur and the adaptability of the Gospel to your condition, and
how much you enjoyed association with those who were of a like spirit
with yourselves. You took satisfaction in their society. If you saw a
man or a woman who belonged to the same branch, you used to rush to
give him or her the morning or the evening greeting, as the case might
be. In the midst of your daily avocations you looked forward to the
meeting in the evening, or you looked forward to the meeting on the
Sabbath. But after you had been but a little while in the Church, you
began to realize that every one did not look at the Gospel as you
looked at it. There were those who began to think that you were
foolish, enthusiastic, deceived; who began to show you that they had
no interest in that which you had accepted. They treated you with
indifference, looked upon you with contempt, and you soon found your
only satisfaction was in the association of your brethren and sisters;
you were drawn, even forced, into their society. The bitterest
opponents you found were in the religious world. The old Sabbath
school teacher, the old class leader, the old superintendent, the old
minister, became enemies to you. While professedly anxious for your
welfare, they considered you were in error, they feigned sorrow for
your delusion, they hoped for your deliverance. And if you lived in a
small village or in a small town, it became almost an impossibility
for you to secure employment. The opportunities of living were
measurably denied you. Hence you found more abiding solace in the
Gospel, and you began to comprehend the advantages of gathering. You
began to realize that there was something of an intelligent character
in connection with it; that by gathering you would escape from this
contempt and from this opposition; that you would be in the midst of
those who were of like faith with yourself. By and by you had the
chance of leaving your native land; but the trials and difficulties
which you had to meet on the way to "the valleys of the mountains"
were very hard, and such as you were not accustomed to in your native
land. You were placed under new conditions, subject to new trials. You
felt yourself surrounded by new temptations, and you began to
comprehend that you had within you features of character that were
comparatively unknown before. You felt the inconvenience of traveling
on the plains, as we used to do in olden times, with eight, ten, or a
dozen in a wagon.
After a time you landed in Zion, and you soon began to realize that
here was another state, or condition. I recollect my own experience
when I first settled in this city. I came from the active
ministry in the old country. No one knew me here, and no one seemed to
care to know me. I occupied no position; nobody bade me welcome; I was
a stranger in the midst of a strange land. I began to feel a little
blue. I had to wonder within myself whether gathering had made any
difference in my feelings or faith, and it was only upon reflection I
discovered that from a life of comparative activity I had been brought
into a condition where I was comparatively dormant; my faculties were
unexercised, and instead of being sought unto, had to seek counsel
from those who presided over the Ward. Conditions were reversed,
circumstances were changed, and it was only reflection that led me to
comprehend this fact. After I had been here a little while, I had to
look for something to do. I was not sure that I would find the
employment to which I had been accustomed. I had been used to standing
behind a counter and attending to business of that kind in the old
world, but when I came to Salt Lake City there was hardly a counter in
it. I could find no occupation of that character. I therefore went to
work as a carpenter, in order to sustain myself and family, and become
a useful member of society. This was a new experience. It brought with
it its trials. When Saturday night came I was not sure as to the kind
of wages I would receive. I would likely be paid in something; it
might be in something I had made myself—the product of my own hands;
it might be in something I did not want. These were the old days of
"barter and swap" in the midst of Israel. When we wanted a candle we
had to melt a piece of fat in a saucer, stick a piece of rag in the
center, and by this means light ourselves to labor, or to bed. When we
wanted a fire we had to get a little wood—there was no coal—and go to
work and chop it, and instead of a fireplace, we had to make the fire
on the hearth, in stooping to which my wife would almost break her
back in attending to the necessities of domestic life. These were in
their way trials. They gave us new thoughts, new feelings, they
brought momentarily strange conclusions; we began to inquire whether
the Zion we had reached was worthy of the ideas we had cherished in
regard to it. We met with many trials. If we had to trade in any way,
we came in contact with those who were disposed to take advantage. We
were "green" in our way, so to speak; we were not acquainted with this
order of things, and there was more or less friction until we became
used to the ways and methods which belong to a new country. The old
land is the product of thousands of years in the history of the past;
this was a new land, it was but of yesterday, and had all the newness
that pertained to infancy. Yet I must say that even at that time,
after a little acquaintance, social life was very warm. People used to
visit each other with great freedom. There was no vast amount of
style; there was nobody able "to put it on." When we visited we were
satisfied to enjoy our molasses and bread and squash pie, and with
these we thought we feasted almost upon the food that the Gods were
wont to eat, or upon angels' food. We enjoyed these things, until by
and by we began to increase in means and to build up our homes.
When we look back upon these primitive times, we see how little really
the human family can get along with. How many things we hunger
after, desire to have, and spend our lives in obtaining, yet how
easily we can get along without them. I think that one of the greatest
losses I experienced in this Territory was that of intellectual
enjoyment. I had come from Mechanics' Institutes, Lyceums and
Athenaeums, which offered opportunities of amusement and intellectual
growth. But you know how it was here in those early times. The
newspapers have been telling us lately that we were occasionally two
or three months without a mail, while newspapers and books were few
and far between. We had left even our Stars and Journals and
pamphlets on the plains; we had thrown them out of our trunks—and I do
not know but some had to leave their trunks also—and we were thrown
more decidedly upon our own resources, and we had each to seek more
earnestly the inspiration of the Almighty to give us intelligence. But
even in these adverse conditions our minds became enlarged, we
continued to grow, and had feasts of fat things in the tabernacle, and
in the Ward, Quorum and other meetings of the Saints. The spirit of
inspiration rested upon those who spoke to us, and our minds expanded
to the truths of the Gospel, and the future of the grand system with
which we had become identified.
Gradually the Gentile world came into our midst in considerable
numbers; as they kept increasing they tried many methods to divert our
attention. They pointed out to us the mines in the everlasting hills;
they brought along the fashions that belong to Babylon; they tried to
work upon our feelings; they called upon our sons and daughters to
throw off the bondage (as they called it) which had been placed upon
them by the Priesthood. But, when we pondered upon these things, we
realize how little they understand our position, how little they
understand our condition, how little they understand the thoughts we
have in regard to the future, how little they comprehend the
foundations of our faith, even while they pray, beg, beseech and coax
us to recant, how little they know of the power of the spirit and of
the result of the experience we have passed through in the school of
the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Nevertheless, they continue in this
direction, and we have to meet it. We must comprehend the rivalry—if I
may so express myself the ever-present opposition which exists between
the powers of intelligence and the powers of ignorance.
Well, we continued to live in Zion. Our families continued to
increase. People gathered in from the nations of the earth. They
spread out on the right hand and on the left, built up cities and
redeemed the waste places. The power and authority of the Priesthood
has been conferred upon the rising generation. Hosts of them are going
forth as missionaries in the midst of the nations of the earth. They
go with power and force, and when they return they acknowledge that
the process through which they have passed has agreed with them. It
has given them strength, increased their faith, and enlarged their
thoughts.
And so Zion continues to grow. Her population increases in
intelligence; they are becoming more and more fitted and adapted for
the society of "the Church of the Firstborn and the spirits of just
men made perfect." They are men and women who are looking forward to
the time when, through their faith fulness and integrity, they
shall be admitted into the celestial kingdom and presented to the
King. Their "eyes shall see the king in his beauty: and the land that
is now afar off;" there they shall rejoice in His presence, and feel
amply repaid for all trial, when they have triumphed and overcome.
I pray for and am assured that God, by His Spirit, will continue to
work with the Latter-day Saints; that they will continue to be passive
to its admonitions and more active to obey; that they will seek and
learn, by "line upon line and precept upon precept," and that while
they follow this goodly advice, while they are edified by the ideas
which are thrown out before them, while they enjoy the songs and the
anthems which are rendered by the choir, I hope they will be
strengthened in their faith, and carry home with them the influence
and the power of the food they have received here, and that thus there
will be more life in the midst of Israel. I hope that even today,
from the few words thrown out, that they will be spiritually
strengthened, and so know that there are positive elements of growth
to be obtained by attendance at the sanctuary of the Lord.
That we may continue to enjoy the life which has been given unto us,
and that we may finally "become men and women in and through the
Gospel," is my prayer, in the name of Jesus. Amen.
- Henry W. Naisbitt