Show It Thee In Simple Reverence

In Charles Dickens’ book Bleak House, there is a poor boy named Jo who sweeps the streets and is a homeless orphan with a terribly difficult life. The boy was involved in a situation with the Lady Dedlock who gave him money to show her certain things related to a man who had died, but some didn’t believe Jo when he recounted where he had gotten his money. One of these who did not believe him (even though he was telling the truth) was the Reverend Chadband who said this to Jo and a small group of people: “I say this brother present here among us is devoid of parents, devoid of relations, devoid of flocks and herds, devoid of gold, of silver, and of precious stones because he is devoid of the light that shines in upon some of us. What is that light?” He continues to speak of him in a condescending and esoteric way, and Jo eventually falls asleep. The reverend comments, “When this young heathen now among us—who is now, my friends, asleep, the seal of indifference and perdition being set upon his eyelids; but do not wake him, for it is right that I should have to wrestle, and to combat and to struggle, and to conquer, for his sake—when this young hardened heathen told us a story of a cock, and of a bull, and of a lady, and of a sovereign, was THAT the Terewth? No. Or if it was partly, was it wholly and entirely? No, my friends, no!” The narrator eventually made this comment about poor Jo: “All this time Jo has been standing on the spot where he woke up, ever picking his cap and putting bits of fur in his mouth. He spits them out with a remorseful air, for he feels that it is in his nature to be an unimprovable reprobate and that it’s no good HIS trying to keep awake, for HE won’t never know nothink. Though it may be, Jo, that there is a history so interesting and affecting even to minds as near the brutes as thine, recording deeds done on this earth for common men, that if the Chadbands, removing their own persons from the light, would but show it thee in simple reverence, would but leave it unimproved, would but regard it as being eloquent enough without their modest aid—it might hold thee awake, and thou might learn from it yet!” That “history” spoken of which is “interesting and affecting” and which records deeds done on earth for common men is the scriptures which recount the incredible deeds of the Savior. And as Charles Dickens was here suggesting, the stories of Jesus could do much more to help this poor boy than the condescending preaching of a hypocritical reverend.

               And so, I wondered what stories from the life of the Savior I would share with this poor orphan boy if I had such a chance. Perhaps we underestimate the power of simply reading the stories of Jesus. Here is one account that teaches us about Jesus in ways that our sermons won’t be able to: “And it came to pass the day after, that he went into a city called Nain; and many of his disciples went with him, and much people. Now when he came nigh to the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow: and much people of the city was with her. And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not. And he came and touched the bier: and they that bare him stood still. And he said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise. And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak. And he delivered him to his mother” (Luke 7:11-15). We see the compassion the Savior had for this woman and her son, and perhaps this story would help Jo to see that he too was loved by a Savior. In this story perhaps there is a promise for us all that the Lord will preserve our families—though we may be separated in this life, we can be “delivered” to our families in the world to come through His power. A second story that I might share from the Savior’s ministry is this one: “And they brought young children to him, that he should touch them: and his disciples rebuked those that brought them. But when Jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said unto them, Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God. Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein. And he took them up in his arms, put his hands upon them, and blessed them” (Mark 10:13-16). We see in this small anecdote that Jesus cared for little children and sought to bless them, even when others tried to push the children away. From this simple story the boy Jo could have felt that there was One who loved him too and wanted to bless him even when society rejected him.

               For me the most powerful story to tell Jo would be what Jesus did among the Nephite children. We read, “And it came to pass that he commanded that their little children should be brought. So they brought their little children and set them down upon the ground round about him, and Jesus stood in the midst; and the multitude gave way till they had all been brought unto him…. he prayed unto the Father, and the things which he prayed cannot be written, and the multitude did bear record who heard him…. And it came to pass that when Jesus had made an end of praying unto the Father, he arose; but so great was the joy of the multitude that they were overcome. And it came to pass that Jesus spake unto them, and bade them arise. And they arose from the earth, and he said unto them: Blessed are ye because of your faith. And now behold, my joy is full. And when he had said these words, he wept, and the multitude bare record of it, and he took their little children, one by one, and blessed them, and prayed unto the Father for them. And when he had done this he wept again; And he spake unto the multitude, and said unto them: Behold your little ones” (3 Nephi 17:15-23). Nothing I write or speak could portray more powerfully to young Jo the love that the Savior has for him than this story. We should not underestimate the power of the stories in the scriptures that tell of the life of Jesus and strive, as Dickens suggested, to “[remove our] own persons from the light” and “show it thee in simple reverence,” leaving it “unimproved” with the faith that it is “eloquent enough without [our] modest aid.”