What makes the heart rejoice? We might ask ourselves, as a way of checking ourselves, this question. What in life makes us happy? What leads us to celebrate? How much of our celebration comes from the role of God in our lives?

I’m afraid that the distractions of every-day life, and the often troubling news of unrighteousness in our government and culture, makes it difficult to find celebration at all. But Church is often a welcome respite to the weight of worldly concerns. Hymns can be a real celebration.

Our way of seeing life, and relationship with our Heavenly Parents heavily influence our rejoicing. If we understand Christs role in our lives, what seems like tragedy can easily be triumphant. And our trust in God and obedience to His commandments will help guide us to see the celebration in our lives.

 

Jesus Christ can turn tragedy into triumph.

Tragedy and triumph are often a matter of our perspective, which is one way that Christ can turn our difficulties into delight. In eternal perspective, the only tragedy is failure to seek our Heavenly Father. And even with a worldly perspective, Christ’s atonement can lead to happiness.

This poem, by the English poet John Lyon (published before his immigration to the Utah) talks about Nauvoo, the abandoned city of the saints—easily seen as a tragedy because of the Martyrdom and the subsequent exodus to Utah. But Lyon sees the city as

… the first of stakes, though spoiled,

Art writ, and sealed in the archives of Heaven,

And shall come forth, in primal glory crowned,

And flourish in celestial bloom, when Saints

Shall reign, and Christ and God be all in all.

 

Alas! and is this far-famed city doomed

To be the residence of ruffian men;

The monument of mad sectarian ire,

Where dwelt, or sought to dwell, in peace secure,

The gathered thousands of the latter-day

The Saints!

But why deserted thus? ’tis strange

That chosen men should perish by the sword,

And vanquish’d, leave their dear-bought homes,

And cultured fields, to blood-stained, murd’rous men.

Alas, Nauvoo! fair city of the Seer!

Thy streets, where once the busy throng were wont

To glide, are now o’er-grown with grass and weeds;

Thy doorless, paneless houses, mournful wail,

Deep sighs, now gossiped by the gusty wind;

The wood-huts torn away, now leave no mark

Where once their frame-work stood, save chimney stalk

Peering alone, like gravestones o’er the dead.

Alas! had God forgotten to be kind?

Was not this city built His purpose to

Fulfil, and found his Kingdom last of all

Upon this earth? Was not this Temple reared,

Wherein the secrets of eternity

Might be made known, though now a ruined mass!

Here riot revels undisturbed, and here

Debauch’ry’s florid, sin-provoking face

Reveals the recklessness of lawless life

Alike regardless of all law, they brave

Stern justice, decency, and natural right.

Heavens! and this that Zion once was called,

Has now become a hell of lawless fiends.

The grove! where erst the hymn of praise was sung,

Is now the haunt of ribaldry and jest;

And where the words of Inspiration flowed

From holy men, is now the fane of lust,

And frothy, sacrilegious mirth.

And has this place, where honest men once lived,

Become a den of uncaged, unclean birds?

Whose frontal visage wears the cursed mark

Of Cain! No business tells their love of frugal life,

Their fields, unploughed, the sluggard’s harvest bear,

And squalid wretches their ill-earn’d pay,

Proclaim their envy, idleness, and want;

But deadlier than the crime of Cain, they’ve shed

The purest blood e’er flow’d in human vein,

Save the immaculate Son of God! yes,

Joseph, thou wert slain, and Hyrum with thee

Fell, by the assassins’ deadly rifle ball!

While others with thee shared a lesser doom,

Though marr’d, were sav’d by time’s preventing hand

To give their evidence, in time to come,

Of martyred men who fell for heaven-born Truth.

And thus, thy curse, thy blasting withering curse,

Shall cease not, till thy ruin woeful tells

A living, lingering death, more frightful far

Than Carthage, or old Sodom’s awful doom;

Yes, strange to tell, thou’lt be the first to rise

When dire destruction, and the scourging rod

Have swept, and cleans’d pollution from the earth.

Here rest the ashes of the martyred dead,

Whose lives were spent in Truth’s eternal cause;

In perils oft ‘mong would-be friends and foes,

Scorned by the world, and like the hunted roe,

Panted in seclusion from the chase of

Bloodhounds bearing human form, to breathe and

Run again, ’till the envenomed world

Shed their pure blood, and “chased them up to Heaven.”

Alas! but why should error triumph? why

Should they whom God had sent to save, be left

To fall? Hush, reason reft of Revelation, hear!

‘Twas all foreknown that they to whom this tale

Should come, would treat their message with contempt;

And by their death and testimony seal

The Priesthood, and its power, and farther spread

The heaven-born Truth. E’en this bleak ruin gave

The tell-tale echo to a slumbering world,

That fame’s loud trump nor thousand tongues could reach.

And thou Nauvoo, the first of stakes, though spoiled,

Art writ, and sealed in the archives of Heaven,

And shall come forth, in primal glory crowned,

And flourish in celestial bloom, when Saints

Shall reign, and Christ and God be all in all.

1853

 

I can trust that God will guide and help me regardless of my situation.

Having this kind of trust in God is hard. We often perceive His help as remote and requiring faith that seems beyond what we can do. Meanwhile the suffering in this life seems immediate and urgent. But that faith isn’t actually beyond our capabilities. We can receive God’s help and guidance.

Here, the poet J. C. (perhaps James Crystal) provides an encouraging understanding of God’s guidance in our lives.

 

O, Brother, be not faint of heart when tempests cloud the sky,

The storm is needed, now and then, the air to purify.

Were it not for the thunder clap, the lightning’s vivid dart

The heat the head might stupefy or paralyze the heart.

E’en so the moral atmosphere needs some reviving force

To calm its elements, and guide it in its proper course,

For just as sure as man gains wealth his pride begins to show,

And soon he gets to think himself a little god below.

The Hand that sees it fit to send the thunder, wind and rain,

That mother earth may be refreshed and man his strength regain.

Must send, at times some direful scourge, to cool our passions wild

And by this means, if possible, reclaim His erring child.

God’s dealings here with men and things, if rightly understood.

Would be accepted as the best, for our eternal good.

He wields the rod when milder means have proved of no avail,

And teaches us what fools we are His wisdom to assail.

How better far it were for us to own the pow’r of heaven,

And yield to God our gratitude for all His mercies given.

Then wildly run at large and think to pilot safely through

Life’s rocky coast, without a helm, with breakers in our view.

‘Twould seem enough for us to know the fate that follows all

Who set the will of God at naught, and scoff at duty’s call.

But sin within, and foes without, our carnal minds inspire,

‘Till like some foolish child we stick our fingers in the fire.

There is a path of joy and peace that all may here pursue.

Of life and light to bless the soul and guide us safe and true.

That path is this, to daily seek our duty to fulfill.

And, come what may, resign our hearts to heaven’s holy will.

1890

 

To receive the Lord’s help, I need to trust Him and obey His commandments.

The connection of trust in this sentence with obedience is notable. Is it possible to actually trust without obeying? Isn’t disobedience a sign of a lack of trust? Perhaps not always—we can certainly choose evil even though we know that obedience will be best.

Here, Eliza R. Snow looks at the issue of trust and obedience, under a millennial viewpoint.

 

If we’re faithful to live by each forthcoming word,

And abide by the Prophet’s dictation,

And with constant humility trust in the Lord,

We ere long shall behold the salvation

Of God, coming forth in its glory and power,

In a time of His wisdom’s own choosing:

It will suddenly come: it will come in an hour

When the foolish are stupidly dozing.

 

What boots it, though darkness encompass us round,

With tradition’s shrill thunderbolts ringing,

If we in obedience to Jesus are found,

And are still to the “iron rod” clinging?

If we are submissive, and willing to be

Like clay in the potter’s hand moulded,

Our hearts will be glad, and rejoice when we see

God’s purposes fully unfolded.

 

Though I’m ever determin’d to watch unto prayer,

I’m so human—so subject to feeling,

I oft on a sudden, before I’m aware,

Find unhallowed thoughts o’er me stealing,

And a dark-featur’d spirit, foreboding no good,

O’er my bosom insensibly creeping,

And twining around me a sorrowful mood,

That with grace cannot be in good keeping.

 

But I hastily bid all such spirits depart—

My detector pronounces them evil;

They ne’er should be suffer’d to rankle the heart—

Let them go whence they came—to the devil.

In whom I have trusted, I verily know:

I’ll confide in His goodness forever—

I’ll obey Him. Eternity’s records will show

If my heart from His precepts can sever.

 

God knows His own purpose: He’ll finish it too

Unassisted by human advisings—

He’s abundance of means, and He’ll carry it through,

Though vain man should be proudly despising.

’Twas the faithful in Israel who bow’d down to drink

Like a dog, and they scorn’d not to lap it:

Every proud-fashion’d scheme will to nothingness shrink,

For the power of the Priesthood will sap it.

 

When we act for Eternity, shall we regard

The ills of the present? No, never;

But, heedless of consequence, trust in the Lord,

And abide in His statutes forever;

And forever rejoice in His favor and love,

Giving heed to the voice of His Spirit,

Until we arrive in the mansions above,

And the glory celestial inherit.

1843

 

I can hear and obey the voice of the Lord.

Hearing and obeying the Lord is especially important in times of chaos and stress, such as times of war. War especially leads to conflicts between gospel ideals and commands from government and political beliefs. Today it seems like we think that courage and bravery only happens in conflict. But often simply following the gospel requires bravery beyond what any soldier might do.

This idea is nicely portrayed in the following poem by James F. Bell. An English convert, Bell wrote this while serving in the British army’s expedition to Crimea for the war against Russia (perhaps best remembered for the Charge of the Light Brigade memorialized by Alfred Lord Tennyson). But instead of lauding senseless bravery like Tennyson, Bell sees real bravery in hearing the truth and obeying the Lord.

 

Who Are the Truly Brave

by James F. Bell

“Inscribed to the “Expeditionary Force Branch” in Turkey, and the “Floating Branch” in the Black Sea, of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”

In times like these, full of deceit and strife,

When those in power so reckless are of life,

It may be thought that he is brave who dies,

And gives his life a willing sacrifice,

to gain a victory o’er his country’s foes;

Or, steeped in blood, to fight in aid of those

Who call on Britain, with her hearts of steel,

To sally forth, and make the despot feel

That right, not might, should rule the nations now,

And even he yet to this truth must bow.

But braver, nobler, wiser far are they

Who hear the truth, and quickly do obey.

But braver still are they, who having heard

And been obedient to the heavenly word,

Hold on thereto, despite the powers of hell,

And dare, in this dark age, the truth to tell;

Whose course is onward, and whose hearts are fir’d

With noble zeal, and energy untir’d;

Whose union, love, and harmony increase;

Whose conversation tendeth still for peace;

Whose feet through all things ever upward tend

To joys celestial, which shall never end.

Yes, braver, nobler, wiser far are they

Who persevere until the perfect day.

Then, O my brethren, let your hearts be pure,

Your faith unwavering, and your progress sure;

Let not the temper for one moment stay,

Nor find success in leading you astray,

Lean still on God, His Holy Spirit seek,

Be wise and watchful, ever kind and meek;

Uphold each other in much fervent prayer,

Let each the other’s joy or sorrow share;

Abide in counsel – do it with delight,

And even he yet to this truth must bow.

But braver, nobler, wiser far are they

Who hear the truth, and quickly do obey.

And God will bless you, and all will be right.

For happy, happy, yea thrice happy they

Who persevere until the perfect day.

1854