I have always loved children. Maybe it has something to do with growing up as #2 of 9 siblings. Their bright faces make me smile, and their innocence and pure countenances shine with a bright light. It is hard for me to see them in pain or suffering. The clear, sonorous giggle of a youngster makes me smile inside, as I remember the pure joy associated with the unobstructed happiness of childhood.
As I grew into adulthood, I had many questions about God. I had no doubt that a great Creator established the universe, for I knew it was too complicated, too beautiful, too perfect, for it to have happened by chance. I read the scriptures, and found many references to His existence that made perfect sense. But my concept of Him was as of something untouchable – the Great Oz of literature, who stood behind a giant curtain of mystery, unwilling to be found out because His power and dominion were too grand for humans to comprehend.
I saw two Godly characteristics in the Holy Bible that seemed contradictory: in the Old Testament was a vengeful God, who wrought havoc and destruction on those who would not obey Him. I read of great floods, mighty tempests, destructive earthquakes and fires. I was terrified of that God, and my obedience to His laws was out of fear – I didn’t want to upset Him. Yet, in the New Testament, I saw a wholly different God, one who taught of peace, compassion and pure love. He went around healing the sick, raising the dead, causing the blind to see and the lame to walk. I liked this God, and even felt of His love on occasion. But I wondered: what happened to Him between the Old and New Testaments to change His character, and turn Him from a merciless God to such a loving One? Which was His true and more accurate nature, and why did He express Himself in such different ways at different times?
One day, I found out. I got to peek behind the curtain of Oz, and meet the living, breathing Man behind the mask. It was on a beautiful Fall day in 1974. I had been in the Language Training Mission (LTM), forerunner to the Missionary Training Center (MTC), for a few weeks. I was engaged in an intensive learning environment in preparation to go out to the world to teach the restored truths of the gospel of Jesus Christ. I was convinced that this Jesus Christ whom I was to represent was the God of both the Old and New Testaments, and my obedience to Him had matured away from a motive of fear, to that of faith – knowing that He gave no commandment that was not for our own good. But I had a greater lesson to learn that day. I was to take another grand step forward in my understanding of Who He was and is. And He used my love of children to mold me that day.
As I stood in the lunch line, I read in scripture about a very personal visit this Great God made to Ancient America after His resurrection. I was in awe as I imagined being there and watching these marvelous events unfold. As He descended from heaven to make Himself known to these ancient people, He was, indeed, that Great Oz of my earlier comprehension – His voice penetrating every soul, though it was not a loud voice. His brilliance cut through the recent unfathomable darkness they had experienced. Destruction was all around these people, because His Old Testament powers had just been unleashed on their neighbors who would not accept the love He was now to offer. (I later learned that the destruction itself was out of love, but that’s another story!)
Then, as I read, the Great Oz came out from behind His mask, and I knew Him, because, in this small way, He was like me, and I like Him. For 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…And he spake unto the multitude, and said unto them: Behold your little ones. And as they looked to behold they cast their eyes towards heaven, and they saw the heavens open, and they saw angels descending out of heaven as it were in the midst of fire; and they came down and encircled those little ones about with fire; and the angels did minister unto them.
I read that no tongue can speak, neither can there be written by any man, neither can the hearts of men conceive so great and marvelous things as we both saw and heard Jesus speak; and no one can conceive of the joy which filled our souls at the time we heard Him pray for us unto the Father.
Tears flowed uncontrollably as I tried to stem them, as I was in a public place and did not want to appear
unmanly. But the Spirit was unrestrained, and in that moment, I was transformed from a believing follower of Christ out of awe, to a knowing disciple of Him whose love is boundless. I felt, I saw, I understood the true nature of this God whom I had long sought. He was approachable, for He knew how to weep, and He loved these same children to whom I had always felt such an affinity. It was at that moment that I KNEW! And that loving God of both Old, New and Restored Testaments, was there to advocate for ME, a child lowly in spiritual maturity, with wounds, faults and impurities which I needed His healing hand to affect.
Since then, I have always known that Jesus is the Christ, the Great Jehovah, the Eternal Healer. That fact will one day be made clear to all mankind, and every childish knee will bow in recognition of His Great and Eternal Sacrifice that saves all His children. May we do all in our power until that great day to extend His very real love to everyone around us, that we may minister in love as does He, our Great Exemplar.
Glenn R. Whicker, 11 November 2012
