The phrase “love them freely” strikes me as unusual, but important. The key is the word “freely”, which suggests without restraint or impediment. Loving freely means we don’t let anything else get in the way of loving.

But in most of our lives, that kind of restraint-less love isn’t common. Whether we look at the love we receive from others, or the love we give, how often is that love really without consequence or condition? While I’m certainly referring to things like parents who hold back when they learn their child is gay or who leave the church, I think other conditions are less obvious—such as those who are open and loving in their direct relationships, but then act financially, legally or electorally in ways that hurt those they claim to love. If you say you love your immigrant neighbors, can you really still vote to make their lives miserable?

Love is much more complex than the simple claim to love one another. It means you need to act with love in ALL parts of your life. The father of the prodigal son didn’t just welcome his son home, he killed the fatted calf — he went the extra mile to make him feel welcome and loved. It cost something beyond mere words.

 

The Lord always invites me to return to Him.

Always, in the above phrase, means without condition. He loves us so much that no matter what we have done, we are always welcome to return. And He is always seeking to get us to return. He is putting forth the effort. Are we doing the same with others?

For early LDS Church members, one way of returning to Him was to gather to the main body of the Saints, which today we see as gathering to membership in the Church. As a result, I think we should ask ourselves whether our congregations are as welcoming as the Lord to those who are returning.

The following poem, which looks to the gathering, sees “The voice of Jehovah [calling] thee to thy home,” and like the father of the prodigal son, the poet sees Jehovah offering the best goods and celebration to those who return: “A choice, large, and good land invites thee to come / With songs and with triumphs he bids thee return.”

 

Awake, lovely daughter of Zion, awake,

Thy lone harp which hangs on the willow unstrung,

Rejoice, for the dawn of thy morning shall break

Through th’long night of darkness which o’er thee hath hung.

 

The voice of Jehovah calls thee to thy home,

From tyrant oppressors, who’ve caused thee to mourn;

A choice, large, and good land invites thee to come

With songs and with triumphs he bids thee return.

 

When laid low in bondage, he heard thy sad cry,

As round thee fell priestcraft’s anathemas hurled;

Thy woes and thy anguish ascended on high,

Before him then were all thy sorrows unfurl’d.

 

He comes forth to save thee, His mandate obey;

He smites in his vengeance, yet lingers for thee,

To Zion’s fair city, oh I hasten away—

The home of the faithful, the land of the free.

 

The storm of his wrath then may rage o’er the world,

From hill top to valley, from Inland to sea,

His volcanoes spout, and his lightnings be hurled;

Yet fear not, His smile will rest sweetly on thee.

 

When th’whirlwind shall scatter, or avalanch crush,

The nations in fury each other destroy,

In torrents, war, famine, and pestilence rush,

Thy soul shall feel sunshine, thy pleasures ne’er cloy.

 

His people shall flourish from shore unto shore,

While curses and plagues on the wicked shall fall,

Their praises shall mount up from Zion before

Their God and their Saviour, their Lord and their all.

1849

 

Devotion to God must be felt inwardly, not just expressed outwardly.

Like the person who claims to love but then acts against the interests of those he claims to love, our devotion to God (and to truth and justice) must be something more than mere words. Yes, we are all hypocrites to some degree, but we should limit that as much as possible. We cannot claim to love God and then act to hurt our neighbor. Too often we see members, as Parley P. Pratt described, “go to meeting on Sunday with a long religious face on, and to see them pay a portion of their ill-gotten gains for the support of [the church]… and then when service is ended see them turn to their wickedness and pursue it greedily all the week and the next Sabbath repeat the same things.” The gospel is supposed to be part of who we are, not a mask we put on once a week.

In the following poem, Eliza R. Snow paints the picture of those who are serving the church during the Utah War. Using military metaphors, she sees the Lord’s troops as having “hearts … set on peace—they go / The peace of Zion to preserve”, while claiming that they were not out for blood, fraud or impeding the rights of others. And its true that the conflict was remarkably bloodless.

 

I hear a voice-‘Tis rich and sweet;

I feel its charm and list to hear;

As when luxuriant breezes meet,

Its music falls upon the ear.

 

Whence comes it? From the spicy grove

Where nymphs and swains delight to stray;

From arbors with gay flowerets wove,

Where cascades flow and streamlets play?

 

Or comes it from the rich saloon,

Where steaming cup and sparkling bowl,

Impart the invigorating boon,

T’ inspire the heart and cheer the soul?

 

Or comes it from the blazing hearth,

Where wives and children smile around?

O, no; it comes from wintry dearth,

Where life’s choice comforts are not found.

 

Speak not of Ida’s towering height,

Nor of Parnassus’ glowing fires;

They’re in the shade. Celestial light;

The hearts of Israel’s hosts inspires.

 

The Muse’s attic numbers swell,

Poetic strains sublimely flow;

Where tented groups of warriors dwell,

Amid the mountain’s frost and snow.

 

‘Tis not for carnage-not for blood-

‘Tis not to practice stealth or fraud-

‘Tis not on others rights to intrude,

That Zion’s troops are found abroad.

 

The will of God, those brave men know,

And from His will they dare not swerve;

Their hearts are set on peace-they go

The peace of Zion to preserve.

 

They serve the God of battles, and

Th’ insignia of the truth they wear;

By Prophet’s word they move or stand,

“Obedience is the watchword there.”

 

That single line expresses more,

The tacties of the Gods on high,

Than all earth’s military lore

For scores of centuries gone by.

 

While union and obedience reign

In Israel’s camps, we need not fear,

For Zion’s warriors will maintain

Our rights, our peace, our safety here.

 

To them, O Father, e’er dispense

The gifts of Thy protecting care;

All those who stand in her defence,

Will Zion’s future glories share.

 

Not in their proudest, manliest hour,

Could Ilion or Ionia boast;

So much of Godlike union’s power

As reigns in Zion’s princely host.

 

And yet a test-a test is near,

The Saints’ integrity to prove;

How blest whom neither hope nor fear,

Nor life, nor death hath power to move.

* * * *

That song-all truthful songs are given

For Zion’s sake, the Saints to cheer-

To lift the heart to home and heaven

While toiling pilgrim strangers here.

 

The spirit which at first inspired

“That song” inspires whene’er ’tis felt,

That Spirit with devotion fired

And caused those warriors hearts to melt.

 

Not unto us—but to the Lord,

Each tribute and all praise belongs,

For each effusion of the bard,

For all of Zion’s sweetest songs.

1857

 

“I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh.”

Given our theme this week, the word “all” again stands out here. God gives His spirit to everyone—there is no condition that leaves anyone outside of God’s spirit. And the word “pour” likewise stands out, since it suggests abundance, as if there is so much available that everyone will at least receive enough—whatever enough might mean when speaking of the spirit. Indeed, the gift of the spirit is clear evidence that God loves us freely.

I think there is a good argument to be made that the ‘messenger of Charity’ in the following poem is, in fact, the spirit of God. Perhaps a prayer for what we already receive, Hewlings’ poem is also a suggestion for how we should accept the influence of the spirit in our lives, and put Charity or Love to work in our lives: “Soften our hearts that they ne’er close, / To thy holy pleading voice”

 

Dear messenger of Charity,

Descend from heaven we pray,

And on our earth-born hearts the gift,

Of thy sweet influence lay.

Quicken our dormant souls,

And on our slumbering eyes,

Impart the power to behold,

Where the path of duty lies.

Soften our hearts that they ne’er close,

To thy holy pleading voice;

 

For every impulse born of thee,

Makes some sadden’d heart rejoice.

Dear sacred messenger of peace;

Oh, come quickly to our aid!

Pour from thy bounties large increase,

‘Till all deadly strife is staid.

On waiting hearts throughout our land,

Let thy presence cheer and warm,

‘Till all go forth at thy command,

In love’s spirit newly born.

1891