Message from the Directors
September 2009
Living Real Life
When I was about nine years old, my great-grandfather passed away. He was ninety-two. I had spend many hours in his home. He teased, chased, and cuddled me. He told me jokes and insisted I help him wash the dishes after dinner. He pretended he didn't know that the hat on his head was really the crocheted cover Great-Grandma had made for the spare roll of toilet paper in the bathroom. He called Santa Claus when I climbed the plum tree and said I had been a naughty girl, so please bring me lumps of coal for Christmas. I adored him.
To prepare me for the viewing, my aunt sat with me and showed me an old glove. She did the age-old demonstration in which the hand represents the spirit and the glove the body. She showed me how, when the spirit (hand) leaves the body (glove), the only thing left is a shell. It cannot move or think or do anything. It's not alive anymore. And so I saw my great-grandfather's body. It looked small, plastic, unreal. I stood beside it for awhile. Then I asked my aunt if I could give Great-Grandpa a kiss. She said no. It would feel funny to touch him. Bodies feel different when they're dead. I walked passed my grandpa, but when I thought no one would see, I went back quickly, reached inside the casket and touched his hand. My aunt was right—he did feel different, and I was a bit afraid. But I put a kiss on my fingertips, touched it to the back of his hand, and whispered my goodbye. I knew the body was not alive. I also knew it belonged to the grandfather I loved.
I recall talking with a friend after the premature death of her mother. She mentioned some of the things she missed: being able to ask advice, just sitting and talking, going to lunch, cleaning together, doing laundry. Then she said, "You know, I understand that my mom's not gone. Her spirit still lives and I'll see her again someday. I understand all that. But when I saw her body in the casket, I realized I miss that. I miss her body. She can't give me hugs anymore. She can't help me with my hair, or smile at me. I can't hear her laugh or sing. I know what they say about, 'It's just a body, it's not really her.' But that's not true. It's part of her. I love that part of her—my mother's body—and now it's dead."
I felt a similar emotion last spring when I attended the funeral of a young friend of mine. I looked at his six-year-old hands and realized they would not be coming to my home to play with my box of Hot Wheels cars, or build amazing structures with my son's Legos. I understood that he wouldn't stand next to me to tell me (for the thousandth time) about his Kindergarten teacher again. I knew there would not be another time that sweet little boy would hug me tightly as he said goodbye, promising they'd visit again soon. I looked at his body and realized I would miss it—and I loved that part of him, too.
Shortly after my young friend's death, Elder David A. Bednar delivered a CES fireside address. I've been reading and re-reading it in the past few months. He talks about our bodies and much of what I've been pondering lately is discussed by him. I would like to share a few of my thoughts and some of Elder Bednar's words here.*
We came to earth to receive a body. In D&C 88:15-16 we learn that the body and the spirit, as a unit, are the soul of man, and that resurrection is the redemption of the soul. I have been guilty of thinking resurrection is singular to the simple renewing of our bodies, which certainly must happen, but the redemption happens when spirit and body are once again rejoined, never again to be parted. Elder Bednar further teaches us that obtaining a physical body is a necessary part of our eternal progression, and quotes Joseph Smith: "The great principle of happiness consists in having a body." I've thought about that. We have bodies because they are essential to our happiness. So many times we teach youth and children of the sadness which often follows misuse of or disrespect to our bodies, without mentioning the many wondrous emotions and experiences our bodies make possible. And we often forget to encourage those we teach to enjoy and explore the wholesome spectrum of physical life made possible by our amazing bodies. Our bodies are not a fragile treasure to guard and hide, but an integral part of our soul—a part which allows "a breadth, a depth, and an intensity of experience which could not be obtained in our premortal estate."
Elder Bednar mentions three things which are "amplified through our physical bodies":
- Our ability to obey the principles and ordinances of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
- Our capacity to recognize and act in accordance with truth.
- Our relationships with other people.
Our bodies increase our ability to obey the principles and ordinances of the gospel. Naturally, they also increase our ability to disobey, and I doubt anyone will escape a long life on Earth without experiencing the consequences of such disobedience at least once. But obedience is a virtue which, at least for me, must be learned and relearned more often than I would like to think about. And often it seems as though that pesky body of mine isn't helping in the least. And yet, when I do learn the art of obeying, and I reap the benefits and blessings thereof, it seems there is a physical, as well as a spiritual benefit. My body feels less stressed, more capable, and stronger, which allows me to believe I can work on the next obstacle blocking me from obeying a specific principle. Ordinances are symbolic in nature, always referencing, in some way, the Atonement of Christ. We perform physical ordinances (such as baptism or partaking of the sacrament) which could not be done without the aid of our physical bodies. We also perform that service for those who have not had the opportunity to participate in those ordinances during their mortal lives through vicarious temple work, with the understanding that the work simply allows our deceased sisters and brothers the option of accepting or declining those ordinances. It is fairly easy to understand how our bodies are an integral part of our progression as we seek to learn obedience in our mortal lives. "Obedience opens the door to the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost. And the spiritual gifts and abilities activated by the power of the Holy Ghost enable us to avoid deception—and to see, to feel, to know, to understand, and to remember things as they really are."
Our bodies increase our capacity to recognize and act in accordance with truth. I can hold a ripe strawberry in front of you and tell you it looks, smells, and tastes delicious. Your spiritual eyes might perceive the beauty of the fruit, but have no way to understand the "delicious" part. Your body provides the physical sensation of smelling the fruit, tasting it, and associating the visual aspect of it with taste and smell. In that same way, our souls experience and act upon truth in different ways than those we might experience from a purely spiritual perspective. As we recognize truth, our bodies respond. Our heartbeats may increase, our tear ducts may become active. We may feel increased need to move, or conversely, a great sense of quiet peace. Emotions will intensify and be expressed in our faces or our actions. We may feel elation, excitement, joy, or in some cases, deep sadness or distress. The physical manifestations which come into play when we recognize truth in our lives, deepen the experience, often cementing the moment in our memories. They also help dictate our course of action once the truth is accepted. We may wish to place ourselves in a situation where the discovery may be repeated or added upon. Or we may wish to seek help to learn to work through painful circumstances or emotions brought about by a difficult truth.
Our bodies enhance our relationships with other people. No doubt, in our pre-earth lives we had relationships with people we loved. I expect we felt deeply for individuals who were close to us. But we could not experience the depth of interacting physically. The sensations of touch could not exist in the spiritual realm in the way we experience those sensations with our physical bodies. Healthy touch produces hormones and chemicals which flood our bodies with well-being. Studies have shown that infants who do not receive adequate touch fail to thrive and have even been known to starve themselves. Our bodies need positive, interactive touch in order to achieve optimum emotional and physical health. But more than that, touch allows us to more deeply connect with other individuals. In fact, any type of face to face interaction designed to increase affection and bond individuals to one another is an experience we could not enjoy in its fullness without the help of our physical bodies.
As we look about us today, we find many opportunities to communicate with other people without ever really seeing or knowing them. I experienced this in extremity when I was working a new job. We were editing film clips, indexing them, and adding keywords so that they might be sold to potential customers over the internet. There were usually ten to fifteen of us sitting in one room. Our computers were side-by-side. We could see one another, but silence was mandatory so that no one would be interrupted as they did work that was often painstaking and exacting. If I had a question, I was instructed to communicate with the necessary person through an instant messenger. I did so, but felt completely awkward, since the person to whom I was speaking was often only a desk away from me. And I noticed, after about three weeks, that I felt more lonely at work than I did when I was at home by myself.
Elder Bednar warns that such communication, without interspersing the richness of face-to-face interactions, can lead people to believe a virtual world is superior to reality. He mentions a study conducted by a Ph.D. graduate of Stanford University in which 40% of men and 53% of women gamers, in a pool of 30,000, said that "their virtual friends were equal to or better than their real-life friends." This suggests to me that they are missing out on a crucial component which constitutes and bonds a "good" friendship—that of the physical presence and audible voice owned by real people. Elder Bednar goes on to say, "The prophet Alma asked, 'O then, is not this real?' (Alma 32:35). He was speaking of light and good so discernible they can be tasted.'" Such a tangible experience cannot take place online, in a text, or in a virtual reality.
I love technology. I spend most of my day online, as my work requires that. I have contacted many people whom I have grown to love through the miracle of online communication. But I love Elder Bednar's words, "To feel the warmth of a tender hug...or to see the sincerity in the eyes of another...—all of these things experienced as they really are through the instrument of our physical bodies—could be sacrificed for a high fidelity fantasy that has no lasting value." I'm grateful for technology, but I believe we should be aware that, because of the ease of access, it can become a substitute for beautiful, real human interaction.
To those of you who read my words today, I urge you to take time to actually visit, in person, with those you chat with online, and those to whom you regularly send a random text. If you are separated from those people by great distance, I hope you'll take the time to phone—even video chat—that you might experience the sounds of their physical voices, and see the facial expressions that accompany the words you speak to one another. If possible, find a friend or a loved one, today, and give that person a hug or a handshake, or just sit close and enjoy the gifts made possible by our physical bodies. I'm deeply grateful for this blessing granted to us by a loving Heavenly Father. I hope that one day I might present to him that same gift in a pure state—a state of being which will, in turn, make Him grateful He entrusted me with that stewardship. And in that day, I hope to be "encircled about eternally in the arms of his love" (2 Nephi 1:15). And I expect that to be a real hug, not a figurative one. After all, at that point we'll both have amazing, exalted bodies. We should make good use of them.
*All quoted text, unless otherwise noted, comes from Elder David A. Bednar's "Things as They Really Are."