Sunday, March 26, 2017

His Return

Yesterday morning, in her great sorrow, the mother of the deceased young man said to Tony and me, "I can't wait for the Savior to come again."

As a Christian woman, she believes the Savior of the world, Jesus Christ, will once again return to the earth.

From LDS.org, we read: 
As Jesus Christ ascended into heaven at the completion of His mortal ministry, two angels declared to His Apostles, "This same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven" (Acts 1:11). Since that time, believers have looked forward to the Second Coming of Jesus Christ.

I left the viewing with a heavy heart--heavy with sadness, but heavy with hope; in the absence of David, his mom and siblings believe they will once again see David; his mother dared to hope it would be in a better world where the Savior will reign in peace and love.

 The second coming of the Savior is dependent on a world so immersed in evil that only an occurrence so miraculous, a power so beyond this world could save us. For the Savior to come, the world has to be in an uproar, a world in which Boko Haram could kidnap and enslave children and force them to murder; a world in which a civil war can displace millions; in a world where famine is possible in a fertile land only because of corruption...the senseless heartache is endless. No wonder David's mom hopes for the Savior to come.

If there is such a thing as the Second Coming, and it is imminent, then we have only a small window of time to do good. If the Savior's time is close, the need to act is urgent. 

Whether or not we believe in the second coming of the Savior, we can't deny people need help. I saw it in the beggars standing in the cold rain yesterday. Instead of rolling down the window and at a safe distance from poverty, handing over my usual couple of bucks, I gave them ten. Second guessing their need, I was blessed with the thought it is better to err on the side of mercy.

I see the need to help people in the refugee crisis. I see the need to help my students find capstone service projects, to help them see their sacrifices are needed. I see the need to clean out my house for Kay's garage sale as she tries to raise money for her refugee children's reading program. I see the need to babysit my own grandchildren so their parents can have a break. 

This perceived window of service has needs both great and small-- all service is charitable, all charity is the true love of Christ. If we are possessed of this charity, how different, how magnificent could his return be?