When we realize that God has known us, literally forever, does that change our relationship with Him? Do we see His actions in our lives, as well as the things that happen to us that may not be His will—do we see our lives differently?

Our belief in a pre-existence is somewhat unusual among the religions of the world, but I’m not sure that we have considered all its implications. We trumpet the personal relationships that this belief leads to, but we don’t often act as if we think our Heavenly Parents are with us in our daily lives. Is our belief in a pre-existence where we knew God simply an intellectual exercise, or is it knowledge that is part of who we are, and how we move in the world?

Thinking about the sections in this week’s lesson in the light of a pre-existence gives different perspectives on how that knowledge enters our lives and helps us progress through life’s challenges. And by using an eternal perspective, one that reaches back as far as it looks forward, we can gain real insight into our lives today.

 

Prophets are called to speak God’s word.

We learn of the idea of a pre-existence through our intuition, and through the words of the prophets—mediated by the attention and respect we have for these messengers of God. The following poem, by poet and lyricist Mabel Jones Gabbott, shows the respect and love that members have for the prophet.

 

So tall he stood there, noble, fine and proud,

Sustained by power greater than his own.

He said, “I shall not talk so very loud,”

But in his eyes a glorious message shone.

He read the excerpts that he had prepared

And then forgetting self and doctors too,

He poured his heart out to the Saints and shared

With us, his testimony strong and true.

His words came freely, ringing rich and clear:

“God lives, have faith in Him, and keep His word.”

It seemed to me the Lord was very near

And prompting him to say the things we heard.

The Prophet spoke today, so kind, so dear,

And my heart prayed, “Bless President Grant, dear Lord.”

1941

 

God knew me before I was born.

Often the truth about a pre-existence that we know through a prophet is something that we also know through our feelings — the “shadows and whisperings” of the spirit and of what we might call ‘spiritual memories’.

Those feelings are something Emmeline B. Wells explores in the following poem, which beautifully treats these feelings, and their persistent but insubstantial nature.

 

A faint, soft shadow flits across my mind,

And thrills me with a gentle tenderness;

Wak’ning a memory only half-defined,

A trace, perchance, of vanished happiness;

I try to call it up, but cannot tell,

And yet ’tis something, I have known full well.

 

My thoughts go back to places where I’ve strolled,

And gaze into the faces known in youth,

And wander round the scenes so dear of old,

To seek this vision out, and find its truth;

Alas, I search in vain, each much loved spot,

It still eludes me, still I find it not.

 

It often cheers me in my saddest hours,

And if in doubt my feelings wildly stray,

I feel most strongly then, its charmed powers,

Just like an angel-presence round my way;

Gently it comes, and whispers, “peace be still,”

O, doubting heart, abide “the Father’s” will.

 

Oh bliss of heaven on earth, we may not know,

For dusky fall the shadows of to-morrow;

Whate’er the talisman, for sin or woe,

Life’s cup is tarnished with a silent sorrow,

But we shall know when this poor life is past,

The secret of the shadows that are cast.

 

I sometimes think I must have lived before,

In a much brighter, fairer world than this;

That I have stepped from that enchanted shore,

As though I woke from out a dream of bliss,

Where soft hands lingered in a fond caress

Upon my head, to soothe me and to bless.

 

As if a shadowing of recompense

Had followed me from out that home afar

For in my heart remains a partial sense

Of a bright realm with golden “gates ajar,”

And through the portals of the glorious way,

Perhaps there streams to earth a heavenly ray.

 

‘Tis strange these dim, mysterious shadowings,

Should seem to mock us, with half-confidence;

Puzzling us with their distant whisperings,

The music of an unknown utterance,

That yearning, human hearts must ever feel

Longing for knowledge, that will all reveal.

1879

 

“They have forsaken me the fountain of living waters.”

Could the pre-existence be a fount of living water? Is there some kind of spiritual remembering that helps us navigate this life? Given the “shadows and whisperings” that Emmeline B. Wells describes, maybe we do remember something of our previous life—something that leads us back to our Heavenly Parents, and helps us recognize and remember what Christ taught.

This poem, written from the perspective of Christ’s mother, suggests another kind of remembering, a “long remembering” of Christ’s teachings that serve as “living water never found before.” Does our “long remembering” of the pre-existence have its roots in the same source of “living water”?

 

The moon is white above Gethsemane,

The shadowed night is radiant as the day,

For he is risen and at last is free

Of earth – free of the tomb wherein he lay.

I bore my Son to live. In days to come –

When they who sought to snare him as a bird

Are one with dust, and nothing but the sum

Of their deceit remains – his every word,

Treasured for long remembering, shall be

As living water never found before.

And even they beyond the barrier sea

Who are athirst and drink, shall thirst no more.

But they shall find his word a sign to tell

Which way the shining road to Sychar’s well.

1948

 

The Lord will gather His people.

The idea of “gathering” is a key concept in our doctrine and thought — but I don’t think we have considered it enough. The idea of gathering suggests not only that people are scattered, but also that they are being gathered to somewhere. Taking this need for a destination to its logical end, we might easily suggest that in the end of this life we are gathered back to our Heavenly Parents. And, for that matter, we might go the other way and suggest that we are all here on earth because we have been gathered from our previous life in a pre-existence.

In the following, Emily Hill Woodmansee assumed the destination was with the rest of the saints in her day, in Utah territory. But her poem can be read in any number of ways, including as a guide for today’s saints in confronting today’s migrants. Our leaders have suggested that migrants are being gathered here by God—why would we try to frustrate His purposes? Similarly, if souls are being gathered from a pre-existence into this life, don’t we have an obligation, as Woodmansee suggests, to actively help and sacrifice for their growth in this life?

 

Gather them out, from the ends of the earth;

Gather them out, God’s chosen few;

Though they claim but little of wealth or worth,

Gather them out, the pure, the true.

 

Gather them out from oppression’s power,

From want and poverty’s grinding hand;

Gather them out, ’tis freedom’s hour!

Gather them out, ’tis God’s command!

 

Gather them out, the suffering poor,

Whom the love of the gospel maketh wise;

Who give of their humble scanty fare,

With willing hearts, for the truth they prize;

Whose lives, a burthen of ceaseless care,

To God is a dally sacrifice.

 

You, who are dwelling on freedom’s soil,

You, who are here, with comforts blest;

Give of the fruits of your honest toil,

And the promise of God by your bounty test;

 

Give of your means with a hearty will,

Little or much, it will help the right,

And prove if the Lord indeed will fill,

Your barns with blessings, your souls with light.

 

Give! and the needy shall shout for joy!

“The lame shall leap and the dumb shall sing”

As they come from the lands and the isles afar,

To “the sought out city” of Zion’s King.

 

To the land of Zion, the poor shall haste,

With ease and freedom unknown before;

For the dreary distance of desert wastes—

The power of steam shall have triumphed o’er.

 

And thus shall the meek, and the poor oppressed—

Rejoicing come on the King’s Highway!

And science, shall thus be made to bless—

And speed the work of the Latter Day.

1868