Insights on Pilate

 It is 33 AD in the Common Era, and the Romans have control over Israel and various other countries. Many of the citizens under their rule are little better than slaves and deserve the cruelest treatment then known to man. The Jews are barely unworthy of consideration by Caesar, and he carelessly murders them without end. God's people are underneath a yoke of hardship above any their people had experienced before, including the many chastisements placed upon the people of Israel during past captivity.

And then, here comes a man claiming to be the Christ—the Deliverer, Savior, Redeemer—the man who would free them. But He didn't free them from the Romans. Instead, He, who proclaimed to be their Messiah, let Himself be led like a lamb to slaughter. He, who was supposed to lead them out of captivity, stood meekly beside the Roman prefect, Pontius Pilate, without raising a fist. He, who was to free them from the whip allowed Himself to be beaten by a nine-tail whip.

It's because He who was the ultimate Messiah needed to deliver Himself into the hands of His enemies (the hypocritical Sanhedrin) and the Jews' enemies (the Romans) to rescue all—not from physical captivity at this time but from spiritual captivity and physical death.

What's interesting is that these cruel Romans, who had no problem sending a Jew to the cross to suffer the ultimate torture, experiencing agonizing pain in their hands and feet while suffocating slowly as everyone below mocked them, were hesitant to send Jesus the Christ to die. Pilate found no fault in the one who claimed to be the Son of God and did not mock His response. And had not the unrighteous leaders below—people of the living God—ordered His crucifixion, Pilate would have let the son of Joseph go.

Why? 

"Wherefore, as I said unto you, it must needs be expedient that Christ—for in the last night the angel spake unto me that this should be his name—should come among the Jews, among those who are the more wicked part of the world; and they shall crucify him—for thus it behooveth our God, and there is none other nation on earth that would crucify their God.

For should the mighty miracles be wrought among other nations they would repent, and know that he be their God" (Book of Mormon, 2 Nephi 10:3-4).

Although the Romans exercised barbaric practices, as a Pagan society, their beliefs extended past more than one god. To hear a man say he was the Son of God would have been no different than if a man had come to them proclaiming to be a demi-god like Heracles. They would have seen his miracles and have believed. Listening to such a man would not have been against their beliefs. But it was to the Jews that Jesus needed to go.

And so, unable to be anything more than a puppet of the people, despite believing in Jesus Christ's declaration that He was the Son of God, Pilate had to listen to the people crying out "Crucify Him, Crucify Him" and then washed his hands of it.

The Presence of God

 I'm sure someone in the blogging universe has heard of this television show and remembers it, but when I was much younger, there was a show called Joan of Arcadia with a theme song by Joan Osborne called "One of Us." Both the song and show addressed the concept of God walking among us. In the show, God always talked to Joan, but it's interesting to imagine Him as someone we might pass on the streets each day, the lonely person sitting on the bus, or the server at our favorite restaurant. What if God was "one of us?"

I find it strange whenever people say they haven't seen a miracle. It's more strange when others can't see God around them, although maybe it's hard for some to see His hand in their lives. As a student (or an enthusiast) of the sciences, I find it difficult NOT to see evidence of God in nearly everything good or the lack of Him in all that isn't good. The complexity of life teems with the need for a maker's hand. But even if it's hard to see Him in things, He's visible in the kindness of others or where true love lies. How can someone so good or omnipotent not be present in creation?

C.S. Lewis wrote, "We may ignore, but we can nowhere evade, the presence of God. The world is crowded with Him. He walks everywhere incognito. And the incognito is not always hard to penetrate. The real labour is to remember, to attend. In fact, to come awake. Still more, to remain awake (Letters to Malcom: Chiefly on Prayer)."

If we're willing to look for Him—and miracles—we'll see Him.

The Lord Loves Effort

 On Sunday I had reached a point of exhaustion—not the simple tired exhaustion but the "I wish I didn't have to keep going" exhaustion. Luckily, I'm stubborn, so although I would have stayed in bed with a blanket over my head, I convinced myself to go to church (and it helps when someone depends on you for a ride). And I was exceedingly blessed—blessed by some miracle to be there for my friends' talks and a musical number; blessed to hear the precise messages I needed to listen to that day, and blessed to hear at the end in the final talk that "the Lord loves effort." Because I know it's true and has been cemented by another layer from Sunday's messages, I want to share those edifying messages.

Each of us has thought or will ask, "What's the use?" What's the use of enduring? Why try? The first special message was "God didn't bring you this far just to bring you this far." If we've made it this far in life (and we have, regardless of our pain, struggles, tears, and exhaustion), we can make it further. It's not the end until it's the end.

Many of us will also wonder if we've been doomed to stay put and stuck in the life we have. We may wonder if we'll ever be noticed or make a difference. I prefer serving others in a quiet, unseen manner, but honestly, it would be nice if someone noticed me occasionally when I walked through the middle of the room to find a seat on the other side (I guess I have a talent for ninja skills). Message two is that the Lord doesn't measure our efforts by how much or what the giver gives but by what effect the giving has on the giver's heart. This is good news for those of us who feel like our efforts might be wasted. As long as we are changing or experiencing those "feel-goods" we're making a difference. And even when you're invisible to almost everyone as you walk through the middle of the room, at least God notices you.

Third, our Heavenly Father knows you can't do everything and doesn't expect you to do everything. Dieter F. Uchtdorf shared, "God is fully aware that you and I are not perfect. Let me add: God is also fully aware that the people you think are perfect are not." Thank goodness we live in a society of perfectly imperfect people so we don't have to be overwhelmed by our imperfections. A rule of thumb is to do one more good thing—not everything and not a long list of things but just one thing.

The final main message weaved all the other messages into one great symphony of hope for me and hopefully for others: How do we balance everything we have to do? How do we take care of the details in our daily lives, date, raise a family, study, work, build our talents, etc?

The answer is simple. We can't. Life isn't a balancing act. Unfortunately, it's a juggling act and when one thing seems like it will fall, we have to spend a little extra time on that aspect. But when the juggling act weighs on you because there are too many balls to hold onto, then this promise comes: Everything that's meant to fall into our lives will fall into place, while what doesn't matter will fall out of our lives completely.

And that's why when we feel exhausted or want to give up, all it takes is doing one thing even if it's making the effort to open your eyes or say a little prayer because in the end, the Lord loves effort.

God knew José

Yesterday, a high councilman shared a story with us: a group of about 30 people from Utah went down to Mexico last December for humanitarian work. Their first stop was to help a woman build a house because she worked every day for twelve hours picking berries while raising two children, and yet they had nothing except for a shack in the middle of a field. The group arrived on Saturday, and there was supposed to be a storm the next week, so early Sunday morning, the men had to get up at seven and work on building the house, while their wives and children attended church. The missionaries for the ward had asked one of these men to pick up an investigator named José and his family, so the man's wife said she would do it. 

This woman was a blonde-haired, blue-eyed soccer mom from Utah who didn't speak Spanish, but the missionaries shared a map location, and she followed it. But when she reached the place, there was no José. She prayed and asked for help finding this man and his family, drove around, and saw a family in the distance coming from the fields. Just like the missionaries had described, there was a man, a woman, and three children, so she drove up beside them, stopped, rolled down the van window, and asked, “José?”

The man responded, “Sí.”

She replied, “Iglesia.”

The man appeared confused, so she tried again with the same result. She called the missionaries, and they spoke to the man, but the family still wouldn’t budge. Finally, this sister told the missionaries she would deal with it, got out of her van, opened the back door, and said, “José, iglesia. Andale.” The family (and a dog) got into the van, and she drove them to the church. They entered, and she led the family to where the missionaries were sitting. 

“Elders, José,” she introduced. The missionaries looked at José and told her, “That’s not José.”

She told them that they better get to work, then. That José was not the man she was sent to find, but it was the José the Lord wanted to be found.

The cool part of the story is that this José she found had moved with his family to the fields not long before. He was raised Catholic, and when they arrived, they didn’t know anyone, so he prayed, “Lord, help me find your church so I can worship.”

And guess what? That’s what the Lord did. He knew this man’s name. He knew where he wanted him to be. And He provided the way for him to get there.

And if the Lord knew José in the middle of an aldea of Mexico, He knows us.