A less-discussed principle of the gospel is the idea that it is universal—i.e, that the gospel and its blessings are available to all of God’s children, including those who are dead. The application of this belief leads to performing ordinances for the dead, a practice that is unique, as far as I know, among Christian sects. The fairness and equality implied in the principle of a universal gospel is throughout the vision discussed in this lesson.

Of course, universal doesn’t mean that everyone receives all the blessings. Instead it means that everyone has an opportunity to choose, by learning how to become like our Heavenly Parents. Perhaps that just means that some will learn quickly and others will take longer to learn.

 

All of Heavenly Father’s children will have the opportunity to choose eternal life.

For each of us here on the earth this universal gospel implies not only that what we learn here is important, part of an eternal course of learning, but also that we should make sure the opportunities here in this world are available to everyone, even though our society is far from providing equal opportunities. Of course, these opportunities may include challenges and difficulties we might not want nor wish on anyone.

This poem, by the English poet John Lyon—who at the time was considered the rival to Eliza R. Snow as the most influential LDS poet, suggests that our actions in this life have eternal significance, so that by them we effectively choose how our future will begin. And this choice is universal, as Lyon says “That all our kindred spirits may / Return again to God, / Through substitution’s thorny way…”

 

Epistle inscribed to S. R.

by John Lyon

Dear sister, though few days have past

Since you and I have met,

I feel our friendship still will last

When Time’s last sun is set.

 

For oh! what can that love destroy

Which dwelt with us of yore,

When in our Father’s blest employ

We His bright image bore.

 

And now, made one by Truth on earth,

We feel the kindling flame

Which gave our spirits former birth,

A parentage, and name;

 

And will in after worlds resume

A higher glory far,

Where Kings and Priests immortal bloom.

And God’s dominions are.

 

Yes! then we’ll see our Father’s face,

As formerly we’ve seen,

And feel a mother’s fond embrace,

And know what we have been;

 

And how our elder brother was

The first-begotten Son,

And kept his Father’s Heavenly laws,

And life eternal won!

 

And how that love which fired his breast,

Shall us inspire the same;

That we like him may gain that rest,

Through whom we have a claim;

 

That all our kindred spirits may

Return again to God,

Through substitution’s thorny way,

Who kept their first abode.

 

Then let us keep by firm resolve,

The covenant we have made;

Nor let temptation ere dissolve

What God in Truth hath said.

 

Yes, sister, if you steadfast prove,

And be as you have been,

You’ll wear a crown in Heaven above,

And reign on earth a queen!

1853

 

Reading and pondering the scriptures prepares me to receive revelation.

Perhaps the biggest hurdle to equal opportunities in this life is access to the word of God. While revelation and the Holy Ghost is available to all God’s children here, the scriptures are not—so curing this deficit must be an important element of the next life, as Joseph F. Smith’s vision tells us. However, we also know that the scriptures are incomplete—more is to be revealed—and details of how to live are not included in the scriptures because they are meant to be learned by each of us. We should probably recognize that each of us have deficits, things we haven’t learned that need to be cured in the next life. I suspect that we too might also need the preaching of the gospel in the vision of the redemption of the dead.

Anna Musser’s following meditation on Joseph Smith looks at the questions of scripture study and revelation, suggesting that youth and “rawness” brings something to reading the scriptures and to revelation. She suggests that “Ere yet we grow to manhood and awareness of death, / Teach us the full honest faith of youth, / Lest we too turn and cower for shelter / Within dark words and dark walls, / Calling them sanctuary, worshiping of God.”

 

The Young Seer

by Anna Musser

The lofty quiet of cathedrals

May be as prayer, or it may be death,

A dim-walled tomb for human seeking.

Religion had been made incarnate,

And the body, growing old, was still worshiped and exalted,

And entombed.

Color and movement, and the whole hushed music,

Were all as for a funeral, drawing toward silence,

Closing men’s eyes aforetime.

Why did they make Death to be their God,

And the sleep of death their peace?

Life is everywhere, where laughter is permitted,

For there is childhood, wide eyes and questions.

There is laughter still for America’s youth,

And the rawness of our farm-boy days,

Our heritage all measureless, our future wholly marvelous,

While our present was a lean log-house.

There were wooded hills and valley lands,

And any sons to work them,

And reading of the Bible by the evening fire.

And the matter of God could never be settled –

Methodists and Baptists and staunch Presbyterians,

Testifying, proselyting, arguing salvation.

From among these men rose Joseph the Prophet,

Young as America itself,

Tall with a good inheritance,

Intent with his race’s questioning,

No longer to be turned aside.

O young seer of the New World,

Kneeling near the great trees and asking of God,

Surely it is you who can save us at last

From the darkness that came upon our fathers.

Ere yet we grow to manhood and awareness of death,

Teach us the full honest faith of youth,

Lest we too turn and cower for shelter

Within dark words and dark walls,

Calling them sanctuary, worshiping of God.

1931

 

The Savior’s work continues on the other side of the veil.

The universality of the Savior’s work is not just His atonement, but also His work leading the teaching efforts in the next life. Understanding that we are limited here on earth, and will need to learn much more in the next life to become like our Heavenly Parents, allows, along with the atonement itself, some relief from the concern that we haven’t done enough, that we are short of what we want to become.

Another English poet, William Gill Mills, muses in the following poem about the transition from this life to the next, and our concerns over our place. His concerns over his friend’s “short stay” in this life are answered by the revelation that “Truth the Future’s curtain furled, / And laid the vision ope to view: / He entered in the spirit world. / To fill a glorious mission too.” And while this poem was written 65 years before Joseph F. Smith’s vision, nevertheless it indicates that the Savior will continue to direct our efforts in the glorious missions on the other side of the veil.

 

The Setting Sun; or, The Saints Death

by William Gill Mills

That tranquil hour, I love to stroll,

Ere darkness fills the vaulted sky,

With one beloved, whose gentle soul

Can share the pleasure gliding by.

 

Musing I’ve stood and gazed upon,

With holy feelings o’er my mind,

Yon glorious, broad, triumphant sun,

Ere he to night his charge resigned.

 

Well he pursued his steady way,

Unchecked by storm, or angry cloud;

And smiling shed his gorgeous ray,

That tinged the dying conqueror’s shroud.

 

The stars appeared to watch his fall,

And fondly hoped to fill his place;

But earth threw round her mourning pall,

The zephyrs sighed all comfortless.

 

A nameless feeling of regret

Crept o’er me as he drooped away:

Fondly I’d bid him linger yet––

His work was good, too short his stay!

 

But Truth the gloomy veil withdrew,

And smiling Hope awoke her strain:

He’s gone! now others feel his glow!

He’ll soon in glory rise again!

 

Thus have I marked the Saint’s bright course,

With God and Truth his constant guide;

Nor Envy’s tongue, nor Hell’s dark force,

Could draw his virtuous heart aside.

 

He knew him whom he leaned upon;

A noble testimony gave:

His faith and works together shone,

A glorious halo round his grave!

 

We’ve watched him as his day declined,

And all admired his dying worth;

And sighed, with feelings undefined,

That one so good should leave the earth.

 

We would have lent him half our powers,

Could he have lingered longer here:

Too transient seemed his useful hours––

Ah! why so soon then disappear!

 

But Truth the Future’s curtain furled,

And laid the vision ope to view:

He entered in the spirit world.

To fill a glorious mission too.

 

And though his body’s ‘neath the sod,

Hope smiling guards the spot he lies:

He soon shall feel the power of God––

In glorious resurrection rise!

1853