To Work an Hour, or All Day?

Photo by Trent Erwin on Unsplash

The parable of the laborers in the vineyard has always been a confusing one for me. If I had worked all day on a project and then someone came in at the very end, just to help with the finishing touches, I would not be happy to find out they were getting payed the same as me. I mean, who did most of the work? I did. Shouldn't I deserve more than the guy who only gave an hour of his time?

Sure enough I'm not the only one who thinks this way. In fact, that's exactly what happened in the parable Christ gives in Matthew 20:1–15. It starts with an owner of a vineyard going out in the morning to find workers. He agrees with them that their wage for the day will be a penny—the normal wage for that time. These workers agree, relieved that they have found work to keep food on the table.

Then, the vineyard owner goes out again, sees that there are still people looking for work, and decides to hire them as well. He doesn't tell them how much they will be paid, but the laborers go anyway because anything was better than nothing. He does that three more times, even going out with just one more hour before the working day is over:

6 And about the eleventh hour he went out, and found others standing idle, and saith unto them, Why stand ye here all the day idle?

7 They say unto him, Because no man hath hired us. He saith unto them, Go ye also into the vineyard; and whatsoever is right, that shall ye receive.

I'm sure these men didn't even hope to get a third of a days wage. But even an hour's wage might give them enough to feed their children dinner.

The fact that every laborer receives the same wage—a full day's—that's what seemed unfair to me. Until this past week. It was only then that I finally understood what Elder Holland spoke about five years ago in his talk "The Laborers in the Vineyard,"

What I didn't realize before was the context of the times. It was common that each family only got by from day to day, and if they didn't find work one day, they didn't know where their next meal would  come from.

With this in mind, those first workers would have been relieved when they were chosen to labor in the vineyard. They got to go the whole day knowing that their family's next few meals were paid for.

Those that were hired at the very last, they spent the whole day worrying and stressing about how they were going to take care of their family. What would they say at the end of the day when they come home with nothing? They probably did everything they could to try and find work, but no one wanted them. And so they were left idle, with no hope.

So really, who was suffering more? Sure the first laborers had to bear "the burden and heat of the day," but their suffering was only physical. They at least had peace of mind. But the last laborers, their suffering was pure mental anxiety. They had no direction, no purpose to their day.

No wonder the owner of the vineyard had so much mercy on them. He felt their suffering and was willing to give them an equal share of hope. And that's what the true Master of the Vineyard does with all of us. No matter when we come with a desire to serve Him, He will hire us, and He will reward us with the same reward: eternal life.

We are all laborers, looking for a way to provide hope to our families. And no matter when we do discover Christ and His work, we will all be accepted with equal love.

Mother, Thy Faith Will Make Thee Whole

Photo by Dawid Sobolewski on Unsplash

Being a mother—this has always terrified me. The discomfort and pain, the lack of sleep, the complete surrender of personal desires... That doesn't sound very appealing. Not to mention, I feel incredibly under-qualified. If motherhood was a job and I had to turn in a resume, there would be no reason for Heavenly Father to hire me.

And yet, he will anyway. Me, an under-qualified candidate who has always dreaded the idea of having children.

Someday, I'll be a mother. Weird.

But this post isn't for me. I write this for all of those young mothers that I know. The mothers that I see trying so hard to raise their children and still stay on their feet. They all look so strong! These new mothers take the pain and the fatigue with such grace. Yet, I know it can't be easy.

If they are anything like I would be, they don't feel qualified for the work they are doing. It must be overwhelming and just plain exhausting.

If I were to send these amazing mothers anywhere, it would be to Elder Jeffrey R. Holland's talk, "Because She Is a Mother." When I become a mother myself, I think I might listen to this every day. It's that powerful and reassuring.

The part that stood out to me this time around was the very end, when Elder Holland compares mothers to the woman in Matthew 9:20-22 who had the faith to be healed, but did not feel worthy enough to approach the Savior directly. I had never thought about it before, but this woman is so similar to the mothers I know: She did everything in her power to find the cure to her disease, hiring doctor after doctor, taking medicine after medicine. I'm sure that she prayed to Heavenly Father for help during those 12 years of sickness. Any mother will do the same, doing everything in her power to raise her children the best she can.

And just like with the woman in the Bible, the answer comes in Christ. He is the healer, both physically and spiritually. If you think about it, mothers really do experience miracles every day—how else would they be able to keep going with little sleep and no time for themselves? That, to me, sounds like a miracle in which the body is literally being healed. So too can mothers, like the woman in the Bible, be spiritually healed as well.

So to all the mothers out there who are feeling a little overworked, "You are doing God's work. You are doing it wonderfully well. He is blessing you and He will bless you even—no, especially—when your days and your nights may be the most challenging. Like the woman who anonymously, meekly, perhaps even with hesitation and some embarrassment, fought her way through the crowd just to touch the hem of the Master's garment, so Christ will say to the women who worry and wonder and sometimes weep over their responsibility as mothers, 'Daughter, be of good comfort; thy faith hath made thee whole'" (Holland).

Faith Not to Be Healed

Photo by Silvestri Matteo on Unsplash

Do I have the faith to be healed? More importantly, do I have the faith not to be healed?

Elder Bednar caused me to ask that question way back in 2013, when he gave the devotional "That We Might 'Not . . . Shrink' (D&C 19:18)."

Just yesterday, I was reminded of that question again, and it's been stuck in my mind ever since. Do I have the faith to keep love in my heart, even when things don't go how I want them to? 

My biggest question is whether or not I have the faith to face my worst fears. Sometimes I'm not so sure. Whenever I imagine my fears becoming reality, I freeze up and plead to God to not let that happen. 

But what if it did?

Like it did with the leprous man in Matthew 8:1-4, who had every Jew's worst nightmare happen to him. My professor described the leper's experience in a way that became more real to me: This man had a life. He likely had a family. Until one day, when he notices a little patch of white on his finger and thinks, "No. Please, no." Soon it begins to spread, and as soon as anyone else sees, he's immediately ostracized—from family, from friends, from work.

From that point on, it's a done deal. Once pronounced unclean, there's no going back. No farewell party with the family, no packing of any bags. Suddenly, cruelly, the leper is yanked out of his world and left to suffer alone, literally (and metaphorically) falling apart from the inside out. 

What hope he must have felt when he heard of a man called Jesus, the Messiah, a performer of miracles. This was his chance! His chance to get to see his family again, to be accepted by his friends, even just to have a day without pain.

And yet, when he approaches Jesus, the humility and faith that he shows is incredible. For even after all of the suffering he has been through, even with the knowledge that Christ has healed others, he doesn't feel entitled. He begins his plea with, "If thou wilt." A pure sign of faith—the faith not to be healed.

What would have been the outcome if Christ had told this man no? Of course, he would have been disappointed, perhaps shattered for a time. But with such strong faith, he still would have continued to worship the Lord no matter what the outcome.

Though it scares me to think about it, I know that I will do the same. When the time comes that my worst fears come to light—for they will—my faith in God will not waver. Will my heart break? Yes. Will my world crumble? Yes. I don't expect otherwise. But even through all of that, I will still know that God is there and that I have a Savior who wants to help me.

Eventually, after the trial of my faith, my miracle will come. 

The Virgin Mary: Despised and Rejected of Men

Image from Nativity--Bible Images on lds.org

Have you ever thought of Mary, the mother of Jesus, as a Christ-figure? I hadn't, until this past week in my religion class.

Jesus Christ, our Savior and Redeemer, was prophetically described in Isaiah chapter 53 as a man to be "despised and rejected of men" (verse 3). His life mission was never to gain favor in the sight of man, but instead to fulfill God's purpose. He was and is still rejected by many. I've come to accept this verse as not only a lament for the Savior's sufferings, but also as praise for a Savior who never failed to follow the Father's will.

Only recently did I start to connect this verse to Jesus's mother as well. Mary too was a woman who received ill-favor from those around her for the work that she was called to do. She, a pure and righteous virgin, was asked to give birth to the Son of God in a manner that looked illegitimate to everyone who knew her. And still, knowing the hardships that would come, she replied, "Behold, the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word" (Luke 1:38). This closely resembles the attitude of Christ's reply to the Lord's call when he agreed to the role God had planned for him: "Here am I, send me" (Abraham 3: 27).

What Mary had ahead of her was likely a life full of hatred, her peers no longer having respect for her nor her family. Perhaps her family disowned her. We really don't know. I like to think that they accepted her and believed her story, but with the amount of negative feelings that existed toward adultery then, it's possible they didn't. No wonder Mary went to Elizabeth's home "with haste," as it describes in Luke 1:39. She certainly would have been the object of spite in her own hometown, looked down on as an adulteress—even worthy of death

Looking at her story, can you see resemblances of Christ's? I can only wonder, if Jesus Christ is our Savior, what role did Mary play in helping him become so? We will never really know how she taught him or what she said, but as a mother, she would have been able to empathizes with her son during all of his suffering. From her own experience, Mary must have known a portion of what Christ was going through, both in preparation for and then during his ministry.

In some ways, I can now understand why the Catholic church puts so much emphasis on the Virgin Mary. Truly, she was a miraculous woman, and though never crucified herself, her experiences and trials resembled those of Christ.

And above all, even through the loss of honor in her family's eyes and the pain from judgmental looks, she knew she was a woman highly favored of the Lord:

And the angel came in unto her, and said, Hail, thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women. (Luke 1:28)

I can just imagine how Mary must have looked into the eyes of the little baby in her arms, knowing that he was the cause for so much of her pain—and yet her eyes must have been so full of love and gratitude.

In the same way, I imagine Christ looking at me, his arms outstretched to me—even after I have added to his pain. Just as Mary never lost her love for Christ, Christ will always be reaching to me with a full and happy heart, waiting for me to take his hand.

The Garden of Eden Part 1: The Fruit as Salvation

Photo by Vadim L on Unsplash

Eve. What was her role in the Garden of Eden? A good portion of Christians might answer that Eve is to blame for all sin and sorrow that exists in this world. But there are many others who would argue that Eve was the hero that brought freedom to humanity—agency for the human race.

I have never doubted that Eve's transgression in the Garden of Eden was meant to be. I've been taught to praise Eve for her decision that day, based on the additional details given by the Book of Mormon (2 Nephi 2:22–25) and the Pearl of Great Price (Moses 5:10–11), both showing that humanity could not have existed without the Fall. Eve could only be the mother of all living by partaking of the fruit. I know that.

However, I never thought too deeply about why Heavenly Father gave those two commandments: to multiply and replenish the earth, and to not partake of the fruit of knowledge of good and evil. Thinking about these commandments with the mindset that Adam and Eve could only multiply after they had partaken of the fruit, the two edicts seem contradictory. Why would Heavenly Father have given conflicting commandments, neither of which could be kept with the other?

While I couldn't have said an answer to that just three days ago, I learned some valuable information from my religion teacher, Professor Tyler Griffin, that led me to my own answer.

In the Book of Moses, there is one distinct difference in the account of the Garden of Eden that adds a new perspective to these contradictory commandments. In chapter 3, it says the following (the bolded text is additional information not found in Genesis):

16 And I, the Lord God, commanded the man, saying: Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat,

17 But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it, nevertheless, thou mayest choose for thyself, for it is given unto thee; but, remember that I forbid it, for in the day thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die. 

 This bolded text contains a key word: "nevertheless." As my professor put it, anytime that the word "nevertheless" is used, it adds emphasis to the last part of the sentence, rather than the first. In simple terms, never-the-less means always-the-more.

AKA, what comes after "nevertheless" matters a lot more to God than what comes before. So what exactly is He emphasizing in the second part of the commandment? Incredibly, Heavenly Father is giving Adam and Eve agency. He is saying that while He is giving this commandment for them to follow, in the very act of giving them such a commandment, He also gives His greater gift: the freedom to choose. By giving them the tree of knowledge, He is also giving them the option to eat it—even against His will.

Now, when I read the verses in 2 Nephi, they add even more light to this question of conflicting commandments.

22 And now, behold, if Adam had not transgressed he would not have fallen . . . 

23 . . . Wherefore they would have remained in a state of innocence, having no joy, for they knew no misery; doing no good, for they knew no sin.

24 But behold, all things have been done in the wisdom of him who knoweth all things. 

The verses in Moses establish that Heavenly Father purposely created the tree of knowledge for Adam and Eve so that they could choose whether or not to partake. The verses in 2 Nephi further establish that if Adam and Eve had not partaken of the fruit (or had not been given opportunity to disobey God's command), they would have remained innocent of sin. And without sin, there could be no righteousness.

There must be an opposition in all things (2 Nephi 2:11). We wouldn't know to call something good unless we have seen something evil. Thus, for there to be righteousness, sin had to be committed. And for there to be sin, there had to be a commandment given by God.

If Adam and Eve had not partaken of the fruit, they would have kept living forever in perfection but never had the benefits of keeping the commandments. They would have been in an eternal state of neutrality, unable to experience joy because they had not yet experienced misery. It's the paradox of life, that we can't appreciate the good unless we see the effects of the bad.

Truly, in our mortal minds, it's hard to comprehend the wisdom of God. But I finally think I understand this point. Heavenly Father gave such a conflicting commandment, specifically paired with the right to choose, because Adam and Eve had to transgress in order to give the world agency--and all consequences that come with it. Sin had to be introduced into the world in order for repentance (and thus growth) to take effect.

If Heavenly Father had never provided the forbidden fruit of knowledge, He would have been giving the very thing that Satan had proposed in the pre-earth life: a world without agency, where "all"—but in reality, none—would be saved (Moses 4:1).

So when Eve partook of the fruit, was she damning mankind, or saving them? The answer is that she was, in fact, saving us. In her decision to choose for herself, she put into effect Heavenly Father's plan for us, including the gift of a Savior. By transgressing in the Garden of Eden, she allowed all of us to be able to choose our own salvation.