Your Refined Heavenly Home
DOUGLAS L. CALLISTER
Half a century ago Elder Adam S. Bennion of the Quorum of the Twelve was the
assigned speaker at this devotional. His address was preceded by a stirring
passage from
Cavalleria Rusticana by Mascagni, performed by one of the
university’s fine choral groups. Elder Bennion was so touched that he began his
message with these words: “I will shorten my remarks today so that this musical
masterpiece may be performed for us a second time at the close of this
assembly.”
The nearer we get to God, the more easily our spirits are touched by refined
and beautiful things.
If we could
part the veil and observe our heavenly home, we would be impressed with
the cultivated minds and hearts of those who so happily live there. I imagine
that our heavenly parents are exquisitely refined. In this great gospel of
emulation, one of the purposes of our earthly probation is to become like them
in every conceivable way so that we may be comfortable in the presence of
heavenly parentage and, in the language of Enos, see their faces “with
pleasure.”
1
Brigham Young said: “We are trying to be the image of those who live in
heaven; we are trying to pattern after them, to look like them, to walk and talk
like them.”
2 To prepare us to do this, the 13th article of faith
encourages: “If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or
praiseworthy, we seek after these things.”
3 Refinement is a companion
to developed spirituality. Refinement and spirituality are two strings drawn by
the same bow.
Today I would like to peek behind the veil that temporarily separates us from
our heavenly home and paint a word picture of the virtuous, lovely, and refined
circumstances that exist there. I will speak of the language, literature, music,
and art of heaven, as well as the immaculate appearance of heavenly beings, for
I believe that in heaven we will find each of these in pure and perfected form.
God speaks all languages, and He speaks them properly. He is restrained and
modest of speech. When God described the grand creational process of this earth,
He said in measured tones that “it was good.”
4 We would be
disappointed if God had to use “awesome” or other exaggerated phrases in every
paragraph.
Britain’s Ben Jonson said: “Language most shows a man: Speak, that I may see
thee.”
5 Our language reveals our thoughts, our virtues, our
insecurities, our doubts, even the homes from which we come. We will feel more
comfortable in Heavenly Father’s presence if we have developed proper habits of
speech. We not only wish to see God’s face “with pleasure,” we want to open our
mouths with confidence that our speech harmonizes with the refinement of heaven.
We will thrill to hear exalted beings express their sublime thoughts in
perfectly chosen words. I suppose that the language of heaven, properly spoken,
may approach a form of music. Did C. S. Lewis have this in mind when he wrote:
“Isn’t it funny the way some combinations of words can give you—almost apart
from their meaning—a thrill like music?”
6 At Jesus’ birth the angels
appeared and spoke, not sang, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace,
good will toward men.”
7 We now try to capture that beauty in song,
but the original angelic utterance was in spoken words, which thrilled like
music.
Van Wyck Brooks, in his biography
The Life of Emerson, told us that
Ralph Waldo Emerson was invited to speak at the commemoration of the 300th
anniversary of Shakespeare’s birth. After proper introduction Emerson presented
himself at the pulpit and then sat down. He had forgotten his notes. He
preferred to say nothing rather than words not well measured. For some, it was
Emerson in one of his most eloquent hours.
8
A few years ago I overheard a Church leader lament the fact that he never had
time for anything except to read the scriptures and other works of literature
and to prepare talks. His wife admiringly responded, “I know, dear. We all know.
We know every time you stand up to speak.” As he spoke, listeners saw. The
unremitting preparation through a lifetime of reading great literature naturally
produced messages eloquent in both phrase and substance.
Refinement in speech is more than polished elocution. It results from purity
of thought and sincerity of expression. A child’s prayer on occasion may reflect
the language of heaven more nearly than a Shakespearean soliloquy.
Refinement in speech is reflected not only in our choice of words but also in
the things we talk about. There are those who always speak of themselves, and
they are either insecure or proud. There are those who always speak of others.
They are usually very boring. There are those who speak of stirring ideas,
compelling books, and inspiring doctrine. These are the few who make their mark
in this world. The subjects discussed in heaven are not trifling or mundane.
They are sublime beyond our most extended imagination. We will feel at home
there if we are rehearsed on this earth in conversing about the refined and
noble, clothing our expressions in well-measured words.
I grew up in a home in which the Sunday afternoon meal was an institution. We
remained in our church attire. My parents almost always invited a special guest
to join us at the dinner table. Several times it was the then president of this
university. We were expected to remain at the table and converse about
worthwhile things. In later years, as a student at this school, we attempted to
do the same, often gathering in one of the Heritage Halls’ kitchens on a Sabbath
afternoon for a reverie of uplifting conversation.
Is there a generation today that needs to be superficially entertained? What
is the prospect of a young man sitting in a dorm on Friday evening to read a
great book and be thrilled by the music of the masters? Is Friday evening a
frenetic flight to see where the entertainment and action will be? Could our
society produce a Newton or a Mozart? Can 85 channels and uncountable DVDs ever
fill our insatiable appetite to be entertained? Do any unwisely become addicted
to computer games or Internet surfing, thereby missing the richer experiences of
great reading, conversations, and music enjoyment?
One wrote: “We need the slower and more lasting stimulus of solitary reading
as a relief from the pressure on eye, ear and nerves of the torrent of
information and entertainment pouring from ever-open electronic
jaws.”
9 This solitary reading should evidence our spiritual and
refined taste in selection of the reading materials.
Another said: “[Education] has produced a vast population able to read but
unable to distinguish what is worth reading.”
10 This happy chapter of
your lives at Brigham Young University will help you focus on reading materials
of greatest worth.
I don’t know whether our heavenly home has a television set or a DVD machine,
but in my mind’s imagery it surely has a grand piano and a magnificent library.
There was a fine library in the home of President Hinckley’s youth. It was not
an ostentatious home, but the library contained about 1,000 volumes of the rich
literature of the world, and President Hinckley spent his early years immersed
in these books. When President Hinckley once came to my home, he spent time
perusing the library. He observed the 50-volume collection of the Harvard
Classics, commented that he has the same collection in his home, and said he had
read much of it. To be well read, however, it is not necessary to possess
expensive collections of literature, for they are available to rich and poor
alike in the libraries of the world.
President David O. McKay was inclined to awaken at 4:00 a.m., skim read up to
two books each day, and then commence his labors at 6:00 a.m. He could quote
1,000 poems from memory. We knew that whenever he stood at the pulpit. He
referred to the grand masters of literature as the “minor prophets.” He was a
living embodiment of the scriptural admonition to “seek ye out of the best books
words of wisdom.”
11
My wife and I recently spent four years on Church assignment in Eastern
Europe, residing in Moscow, Russia. We often traveled on the Moscow underground
subway called the Metro. We noticed the bowed heads of the Russian passengers,
for they were reading Tolstoy, Chekhov, Dostoyevsky, or Pushkin—and, sometimes,
Mark Twain. The people were poor, but they were not obsessed with their poverty.
They possessed the rich tradition of Russian literature, art, and music.
Elder James E. Talmage, before his call to the Twelve, was a mining
geologist. He once spoke of the features of certain geology he had observed
during a field trip more than a year before. He explained that he could not with
certainty recall the terrain until after he developed a photograph he had made
of the location. The photographic plate had been laid away in darkness for an
extended time. It had only been exposed to the light for one-fiftieth of a
second—but the image was indelibly impressed on the negative, awaiting a future
date to reveal its message.
12
The lesson does not escape us. The images to which our minds are exposed are
held in store, seemingly forgotten, even for years. But at the crucial moment
they re-present themselves to influence our thoughts and lives. And so it is
with the music, literature, art, media, and other images to which we are
exposed. The pamphlet
For the Strength of Youth states: “Whatever you
read, listen to, or look at has an effect on you. Therefore, choose only
entertainment and media that uplift you.”
13
These are the words of President McKay:
As with companions so with books. We may choose those which will make us
better, more intelligent, more appreciative of the good and the beautiful in the
world, or we may choose the trashy, the vulgar, the obscene, which will make us
feel as though we’ve been “wallowing in the mire.”14
If we know the books located at the bedside, we know much about the man.
A good book, such as the scriptures, becomes a lifelong companion. A
thoughtful man wrote:
An unliterary man may be defined as one who reads books once
only.15
I can’t imagine a man really enjoying a book and reading it only
once.16
Clearly one must read every good book at least once every ten
years.17
The sure mark of an unliterary man is that he considers “I’ve read it
already” to be a conclusive argument against reading a work. . . . Those who
read great works, on the other hand, will read the same work ten, twenty or
thirty times during the course of their life.18
Of all the works worthy of repetitive reading, the scriptures stand
paramount, for they are not founded in the opinions of men. Over the years I
have oft remembered the counsel of the late Hugh Nibley: “If you pray for an
angel to visit you, you know what he’ll do if he comes. He’ll just quote the
scriptures to you—so you’re wasting your time waiting for what we already
have.”
19
Many years ago, while living in another part of the country, I became
acquainted with a fine Latter-day Saint young man. He was a superior athlete,
but he had never attended a cultural event. Living in the same community was a
lovely young LDS sister. She spoke French as well as English. She played the
violin. She presented herself as a refined daughter of God. One day the American
Ballet Theatre came to our town. A group of us decided to attend, including this
young man and young woman.
Now and then I glanced at the young man during the ballet. His eyes were
riveted on the stage. Windows of new appreciation were opened. After the
performance he approached me privately and said, in reference to the refined
young sister, “Where have I been all of my life? This is what I want in my home.
This is what I want as the mother of my children. Until now I thought only
physical appearance mattered.” I gently reminded him that she would likely be
drawn to one of refined nature, like herself, and it was time for him to look
within.
Dear daughters of God, you are the crown jewels of all of His creations.
There has never been a sunset, symphony, or work of art as lovely as you. May
you catch the vision that you are destined to be a refined and regal queen,
honored by an uncountable posterity, worlds without end.
If we could peek behind the heavenly veil we would likely be inspired by the
music of heaven, perhaps more glorious than any music we have heard on this
earth.
When some music has passed the tests of time and been cherished by the noble
and refined, our failure to appreciate it is not an indictment of grand music.
The omission is within. If a young person grows up on a steady diet of
hamburgers and french fries, he is not likely to become a gourmet. But the fault
is not with fine food. He just grew up on something less. Some have grown up on
a steady diet of musical french fries.
Elder Neal A. Maxwell said:
We . . . live in a world that is too prone to the tasteless, and we need
to provide an opportunity to cultivate a taste for the finest music. And,
likewise, we’re in a world that’s so attuned to the now that we need to permit
people to be more attuned to the best music of all the ages.20
A few years ago I made my way to the bedroom of one of my sons to say good
night. He was a junior in high school. As I approached his room, I heard the
strains of Tchaikovsky’s sixth symphony. I was surprised. I knew the boy loved
sports, but I didn’t know he loved Tchaikovsky. Months later, as my wife and I
were listening to a videotape of three tenors singing, our son came in and sat
down. He listened and saw, and a new appreciation developed. He said: “You never
told me about opera.” He took the videotape to his room, and I never saw it
again. Appreciation of the finest in music does not depend upon your age.
President J. Reuben Clark of the First Presidency, one of our greatest Christ
scholars, used to listen to inspirational music in the evening before he began
his insightful writings concerning the life of the Savior. The music opened his
spiritual pores, as it does for all of us.
Recognizing the penetrating influence of great music, Oscar Wilde had one of
his characters say: “After playing Chopin, I feel as if I had been weeping over
sins that I had never committed, and mourning over tragedies that were not my
own.”
21 After the first performance of
Messiah, Handel said:
“My lord, I should be sorry if I only entertained them; I wish to make them
better.”
22 Haydn “dressed in his best clothes to compose because he
said he was going before his maker.”
23
There are events of life so sublime that they cannot be imagined without the
companionship of beautiful music. We could not have a Christmas without carols
or a general conference without sacred anthems. And there could not be a heaven
without music of surpassing beauty. Brigham Young said: “There is no music in
hell, for all good music belongs to heaven.”
24 It would be punishment
enough to go to hell and not hear a note of music for all eternity.
This would be a good time to sift through your music library and choose
primarily that which uplifts and inspires. It is part of the maturing process of
your eternal journey. This would also be a fine time to learn a musical
instrument or improve musical skills now partially possessed.
On the eve of his release, one of my fine missionaries during my tenure as a
mission president spoke of a girl at home with whom he intended to renew
association.
He inquired, “How will I know if she is the right one?”
I suggested, among other things, that he invite her to a cultural event. If
she responded that this would be of no interest to her, then maybe he should
pursue other alternatives. But if she had compelling spiritual qualities and
could be enthralled by culture on Friday and love the athletic contest on
Saturday, she might be the type of young lady he could choose as the mother for
his children. It might be balanced and rewarding to be paired with her for
eternity.
That which has been said about bringing great language, music, and literature
into the home may be said with equal truth of great art—perhaps tastefully
displayed in our heavenly home. It may also be said of our physical appearance
and manners, as well as the order of the place in which we live, the way we
offer our prayers, and the way we read God’s word.
I once had opportunity to visit briefly with Audrey Hepburn, the great
actress of days gone by, at the time she was making the movie
My Fair
Lady. She spoke of the opening scene in the movie in which she depicted a
modest, unpolished flower girl. Her face had been besmirched with charcoal to
make her seem part of her surroundings. “But,” she said, with a twinkle in her
eye, “I was wearing my Chanel perfume. Inside I still knew I was a lady.” It
doesn’t take expensive perfume to make a lady, but it does require cleanliness,
modesty, self-respect, and pride in one’s appearance.
Many years ago an associate of mine decided he would please his wife by
sharing with her a very specific compliment each night as he arrived home. One
night he praised her cooking. A second night he thanked her for excellence in
housekeeping. A third night he acknowledged her fine influence on the children.
The fourth night, before he could speak, she said: “I know what you are doing. I
thank you for it. But don’t say any of those things. Just tell me you think I am
beautiful.”
She expressed an important need that she had. Women ought to be praised for
all the gifts they possess that so unselfishly add to the richness of our lives,
including their attentiveness to their personal appearance. We must not “let
ourselves go” and become so casual—even sloppy—in our appearance that we
distance ourselves from the beauty heaven has given us. Every man has the right
to be married to a woman who makes herself as beautiful as she can be and who
looks in the mirror to tidy herself up before he comes home. Every woman has a
right to be married to a man who keeps himself clean, physically as well as
morally, and takes pride in his appearance. A husband should hurry home because
of the angel who awaits him, and that angel should be watching the clock
awaiting his arrival.
Occasionally a young man comes home from his mission and hastens to distance
himself in appearance from everything associated with missionary service. He
becomes slovenly. Heaven blushes. The young man who wants an exemplary spouse
needs to look in the mirror and ask why she would want him. Then he should shave
and press his clothes.
Years ago I attended a stake conference in California at which the wife of
the stake president shared this story: She had been born considerably after the
other children in the family, and her father was unusually protective of her.
When a suitor would stop by to pick her up for a date, the father would look him
over very carefully and then say: “Do you want to date my princess? Go home and
wash your car and shine your shoes. Then I will give my permission.” I sometimes
wonder if our Heavenly Father whispers the same when we date His precious
daughters. The Book of Mormon speaks of a people who “did not wear costly
apparel, yet they were neat and comely.”
25
There are those who flippantly say: “How I look has nothing to do with how
God feels about me.” But it is possible for both earthly and heavenly parents to
have unspoken disappointment in their offspring without diminished love. I say
it again: Sometimes heaven blushes but loves on.
President Joseph F. Smith, the sixth president of the Church, owned few
things, but he took care of them. He was fastidious in his appearance. He
pressed his dollar bills to remove the wrinkles. He allowed none but himself to
pack his overnight bag. He knew where every article, nut, and bolt of the
household was, and each had its place.
Would this be true of the environment in which you live? Is it a house of
order? Need you dust, clean, and rearrange before you invite the Spirit of the
Lord into your apartment? President Lorenzo Snow said: “The Lord does not intend
that the Saints shall live always in dens and caves of the earth, but that they
shall build fine houses. When the Lord comes he will not expect to meet a dirty
people, but a people of refinement.”
26
David Starr Jordan, a former president of Stanford University, wrote:
To be vulgar is to do that which is not the best of its kind. It is to do
poor things in poor ways, and to be satisfied with that. . . . It is vulgar to
wear dirty linen when one is not engaged in dirty work. It is vulgar to like
poor music, to read weak books, to feed on sensational newspapers, . . . to find
amusement in trashy novels, to enjoy vulgar theatres, to find pleasure in cheap
jokes.27
I once heard a story about an imaginary king whose wife gave birth to a baby
boy. The parents knew that the lad would someday inherit the kingdom. Desiring
that their son be a wise king, fully familiar with the needs of the people over
whom he would reign, the king and queen took the infant into the country to be
raised as part of a peasant family. He was to be told nothing of his secret
destiny until he became a man.
At the appropriate time the king and queen returned to the country to confer
on their son the kingdom. They were greatly disappointed. Having been told
nothing of his appointed destiny, he was exactly that which life had prepared
him to be. He understood the proper care of animals and the gathering of crops,
but he knew nothing of armies and palaces and courtyards and presiding. He had
lost his vision.
It should not be difficult for you to glean the truth in this story. Another
King, your Father in Heaven, has sent you away from His presence to have
experiences you would not have had in your heavenly home—all in preparation for
the conferral of a kingdom. He doesn’t want you to lose your vision. You are
children of an exalted being. You are foreordained to preside as kings and
queens. You will live in a home and environment of infinite refinement and
beauty, as reflected in the language, literature, art, music, and order of
heaven.
I close with the words of President Brigham Young: “Let us . . . show to the
world that we have talent and taste, and prove to the heavens that our minds are
set on beauty and true excellence, so that we can become worthy to enjoy the
society of angels.”
28 Even more, that we may enjoy the refined
society of heavenly parentage, for we are of the race of the gods, being
children of the Most High.
This is my testimony and my humble supplication for you, in the name of Jesus
Christ, amen.
Notes
1. Enos 1:27.
2.
JD 9:170.
3. Articles of Faith 1:13.
4. Genesis 1:4.
5. Ben Jonson,
Timber; or, Discoveries Made upon Men and Matter
(1640).
6. C. S. Lewis, letter of 21 March 1916, paragraph 3, in
The Letters of C.
S. Lewis to Arthur Greeves (New York: Collier Books, 1986), 96.
7. Luke 2:14.
8. See Van Wyck Brooks,
The Life of Emerson (New York: The Literary
Guild, 1932), 297.
9. Storm Jameson,
Parthian Words (New York: Harper and Row, 1970),
123.
10. George Macaulay Trevelyan,
English Social History: A Survey of Six
Centuries, Chaucer to Queen Victoria (London: Longmans, Green and Company,
1942), 582.
11. D&C 88:118.
12. See James E. Talmage, “The Parable of the Photographic Plate: An Episode
in Field Work,”
Improvement Era, April 1914, 503–505.
13.
For the Strength of Youth: Fulfilling Our Duty to God (Salt Lake
City: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 2001), 17.
14. David O. McKay,
Pathways to Happiness (Salt Lake City: Bookcraft,
1957), 15.
15. C. S. Lewis, paragraph 24 of “On Stories,” in
On Stories: and Other
Essays on Literature (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1982), 16.
16. C. S. Lewis, letter of February 1932, in
Letters to Greeves, 439.
17. Lewis, letter of 17 August 1933, in
Letters to Greeves, 458.
18. C. S. Lewis, chapter 1, paragraph 4, in
An Experiment in Criticism
(New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1982), 2.
19. Hugh Nibley, “Gifts,” BYU lecture, 13 March 1979, in
Approaching
Zion, vol. 9 of
The Collected Works of Hugh Nibley (Salt Lake City
and Provo: Deseret Book Company and Foundation for Ancient Research and Mormon
Studies, 1989), 87.
20. Neal A. Maxwell, remarks at the inauguration of KRIC-FM, Ricks College,
May 1984.
21. In Oscar Wilde, “The Critic as Artist,” part 1 (1891).
22. In George Hogarth,
Musical History, Biography, and Criticism (New
York: J. S. Redfield, 1848), 67; see “A Tribute to Handel,”
Improvement
Era, May 1929, 574.
23. Reid Nibley, in Hal Williams, “Dr. Reid Nibley on Acquiring a Taste for
Classical Music,”
BYU Today, April 1980, 14.
24.
JD 9:244.
25. Alma 1:27.
26. Lorenzo Snow, in
Wilford Woodruff, Fourth President of the Church of
Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints: History of His Life and Labors as Recorded in
His Daily Journals, prep. Matthias F. Cowley (Salt Lake City: Bookcraft,
1964), 468.
27. David Starr Jordan,
The Strength of Being Clean: A Study of the Quest
for Unearned Happiness (New York: H. M. Caldwell Co., 1900), 25.
28.
JD 11:305.
In earlier years when my children were too young to help out much around the house, I neatened up the house before bedtime each evening. That helped us get off to a better start the next morning. After breakfast I would get them started playing while I quickly did the morning chores. Afterwards, my day was free to play with them, teach them, care for them and enjoy them. I loved it! (Although it certainly had its shares of frustrations at times!) I stayed home a lot, which was my main secret for success.
