Week 67: An Easter Message feat. Aaron Burr
Dear Loved Ones,
I want the bulk of this email this week to focus on the Savior because it's Easter. I've been listing some Savior insights for a while, so here they are.
I think it might have been on the Savior's mind, as he went about healing people, that he was alleviating pain he would one day feel. So whenever he saw a leper, he might have winced at the thought of someday suffering leprosy and wanted to take the pain away from the leper, and also from himself.
And no one ever atoned for his pain. There's no record of him ever having been sick, but probably he got injured at some point in his life. That pain was his alone and so was his crucifixion.
A while back, I had carpal tunnel surgery on both hands. I don't recommend this. I was handless for two weeks. I was in a New Testament class at the time, and after I scheduled the surgery, my teacher spent a solid three days talking about the crucifixion process (and skipped over the resurrection entirely, which annoyed me because no other part of Christianity matters if Jesus weren't resurrected). She went into a lot of gory detail and taught us, among other things, that Jesus was pierced through the median nerve. The same nerve I was getting operated on. And that's supposed to be the most painful way to die. I couldn't so much as put on a sleeve without intense pain. Even after I was officially done with recovery, for about a year, handshakes hurt my shoulders and people pressing on my shoulders hurt the tips of my fingers. Median nerve wounds are EXTREMELY painful. I thought a lot about how I was feeling some of the same pain Jesus felt. We know that Christ went through all our pain vicariously in Gethsemane, but whenever my arms killed me, I thought about how he actually, personally, had his median nerve throbbing as well.
Since I was first taught about Christ's atonement as a child, I've always thought Calvary was the cool down lap after Gethsemane. Christ felt all the pains of all the people in the world, and that includes all the crucifixions. Before he ever reached Calvary, he had already been effectively crucified thousands of times. He'd been through worse.
But he also already knew what to expect.
And right after he got out of that garden of pain, he saw more pain. Peter whipped out a sword and chopped off Malchus's ear. Christ had felt that ear. Is there any wonder he wanted to heal it?
I think part of the reason the Savior was put on Earth the way he was, made a baby and given a mom and brothers and sisters, is service is easier when you have someone to love. He had a family. He died for me, yes, but he also did it for Mary and Joseph and his brothers and sisters. Every single one of us would be barred from Heaven without him, and how could he ever let that happen to Mary? So he died for them and felt their pain, too. He felt Mary's pain in childbirth and every time Joseph nicked a finger in his woodshop and skinned knees when James fell down while playing. Hebrews 12:2 calls "Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross." While he was in the very act of dying for us and his family, the Savior focused on joy. The Savior finds joy in bringing to pass our immortality and eternal life, in succoring us in our suffering.
I'm trying to find joy in serving, too, in the meager ways I still can. There's a line in the musical Hamilton where Aaron Burr, a Revolutionary War veteran who is trying to make a name for himself in politics after the war is won, says, "If there's a reason I'm still alive when so many have died, then I'm willing to wait for it." And another line where Eliza, Alexander Hamilton's wife, sings, "Look around, look around, at how lucky we are to be alive right now." I've been thinking about those two lines a lot. My brother Brandon got home from Chicago this week. The worldwide missionary force has been slashed drastically and I'm lucky to be left standing. Me, the two transfer missionary who's been threatened with being sent home before. I would've thought I was the least likely person to be left out-but I trust in a blessing my dad gave me before my mission telling me I'd serve 18 months. So I skype teach my restoration branch family and everyone else I can get and run all the excess food stockpiled in our apartment to people who could use it more than I could. And quarantine will be up sooner or later, and I'm willing to wait for it.
I told that to my other brother, Jacob, who had to decide whether he would wait a year or so to go straight to Colombia after everything has settled down, or go out this summer and have to virus-wait in a stateside mission for a time. I compared that to my two-transfer mission while he was talking through it. I told him my Aaron Burr thought and he said he feels the same way. He submitted his papers on probably the very last day that he could've gotten a call, so he is able to go while so many of his friends cannot. So he feels the responsibility to go. Unless he changes his mind soon, he's currently opting to go ahead and waitside stateside. I'm proud of him and I'm so grateful to be left to serve my Savior and these people despite all odds.
Love you all!
Sincerely,
Sister Smith
I want the bulk of this email this week to focus on the Savior because it's Easter. I've been listing some Savior insights for a while, so here they are.
I think it might have been on the Savior's mind, as he went about healing people, that he was alleviating pain he would one day feel. So whenever he saw a leper, he might have winced at the thought of someday suffering leprosy and wanted to take the pain away from the leper, and also from himself.
And no one ever atoned for his pain. There's no record of him ever having been sick, but probably he got injured at some point in his life. That pain was his alone and so was his crucifixion.
A while back, I had carpal tunnel surgery on both hands. I don't recommend this. I was handless for two weeks. I was in a New Testament class at the time, and after I scheduled the surgery, my teacher spent a solid three days talking about the crucifixion process (and skipped over the resurrection entirely, which annoyed me because no other part of Christianity matters if Jesus weren't resurrected). She went into a lot of gory detail and taught us, among other things, that Jesus was pierced through the median nerve. The same nerve I was getting operated on. And that's supposed to be the most painful way to die. I couldn't so much as put on a sleeve without intense pain. Even after I was officially done with recovery, for about a year, handshakes hurt my shoulders and people pressing on my shoulders hurt the tips of my fingers. Median nerve wounds are EXTREMELY painful. I thought a lot about how I was feeling some of the same pain Jesus felt. We know that Christ went through all our pain vicariously in Gethsemane, but whenever my arms killed me, I thought about how he actually, personally, had his median nerve throbbing as well.
Since I was first taught about Christ's atonement as a child, I've always thought Calvary was the cool down lap after Gethsemane. Christ felt all the pains of all the people in the world, and that includes all the crucifixions. Before he ever reached Calvary, he had already been effectively crucified thousands of times. He'd been through worse.
But he also already knew what to expect.
And right after he got out of that garden of pain, he saw more pain. Peter whipped out a sword and chopped off Malchus's ear. Christ had felt that ear. Is there any wonder he wanted to heal it?
I think part of the reason the Savior was put on Earth the way he was, made a baby and given a mom and brothers and sisters, is service is easier when you have someone to love. He had a family. He died for me, yes, but he also did it for Mary and Joseph and his brothers and sisters. Every single one of us would be barred from Heaven without him, and how could he ever let that happen to Mary? So he died for them and felt their pain, too. He felt Mary's pain in childbirth and every time Joseph nicked a finger in his woodshop and skinned knees when James fell down while playing. Hebrews 12:2 calls "Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross." While he was in the very act of dying for us and his family, the Savior focused on joy. The Savior finds joy in bringing to pass our immortality and eternal life, in succoring us in our suffering.
I'm trying to find joy in serving, too, in the meager ways I still can. There's a line in the musical Hamilton where Aaron Burr, a Revolutionary War veteran who is trying to make a name for himself in politics after the war is won, says, "If there's a reason I'm still alive when so many have died, then I'm willing to wait for it." And another line where Eliza, Alexander Hamilton's wife, sings, "Look around, look around, at how lucky we are to be alive right now." I've been thinking about those two lines a lot. My brother Brandon got home from Chicago this week. The worldwide missionary force has been slashed drastically and I'm lucky to be left standing. Me, the two transfer missionary who's been threatened with being sent home before. I would've thought I was the least likely person to be left out-but I trust in a blessing my dad gave me before my mission telling me I'd serve 18 months. So I skype teach my restoration branch family and everyone else I can get and run all the excess food stockpiled in our apartment to people who could use it more than I could. And quarantine will be up sooner or later, and I'm willing to wait for it.
I told that to my other brother, Jacob, who had to decide whether he would wait a year or so to go straight to Colombia after everything has settled down, or go out this summer and have to virus-wait in a stateside mission for a time. I compared that to my two-transfer mission while he was talking through it. I told him my Aaron Burr thought and he said he feels the same way. He submitted his papers on probably the very last day that he could've gotten a call, so he is able to go while so many of his friends cannot. So he feels the responsibility to go. Unless he changes his mind soon, he's currently opting to go ahead and waitside stateside. I'm proud of him and I'm so grateful to be left to serve my Savior and these people despite all odds.
Love you all!
Sincerely,
Sister Smith
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