From the Improvement Era, April 1948 –

Tomorrow’s Yesterday

By Luacine Clark Fox

Looking back on it now, it seems incredible that we didn’t see, didn’t understand. The signs were so obvious. Everything clicked into place so smoothly and right on schedule.

Elizabeth, how could we have been so blind? Those days seem to me now like dim nightmares of the past. Of course, in many respects those days were nightmarish in quality, but they were terribly real.

Pain. Did we actually feel it? Of course we did. And sorrow and — most unbelievable of all — doubt. Elizabeth, how could we ever have doubted? But we did. Little Timothy Johnson, the boy on the next estate — oh, you know him. He was born two years after the Second Coming, Know the boy I mean? Yes, that’s the one. He has asked me again and again about that.

“How could you have helped but know there is a God, Sister Martin?” he insists. “There were the stars to watch at night. There was the moon. God made them.”

“Yes, Timothy,” I have said, “but . . .”

“And the sun in the daytime. Didn’t people know? When they saw his handiwork with their own eyes . . . and couldn’t explain it or govern it themselves.”

“Timothy,” I floundered, seeking words and wondering at the same time at our stupidity in those days, “you must understand that we couldn’t live in the presence of the Lord then. All the information we had came through the mouths of the prophets. And unless you had the Holy Ghost, you didn’t recognize the truth of what the prophets said.”

And then Timothy nodded eagerly, “But Latter-day Saints knew for sure, didn’t they, Sister Martin?”

There you are. What could I say? As always I was at a loss for words. Seriously, what excuse did we have? Those of us who were members of the Church — and failed to measure up?

Oh, yes, I know. Lucifer. I must admit that with Lucifer bound it’s just as hard to remember his wiles now as it was then to imagine life without him. I have to keep reminding myself how difficult he and his angels made things.

“The old motion pictures! Remember, Elizabeth? The absurd styles of dress and undress and, mercy! — the importance we attached to them! Lucifer was extremely clever there. He used the guise of physical beauty to cover all kinds of wickedness. The lovely, painted mouths of harlots uttered every manner of false doctrine so simply, so convincingly that even some of our own young women aped their degrading styles and manners. Oh, I’m not forgetting some of the really splendid and fine things the world had to offer in the fields of art. Our Saints would go to see these good things, but along with them, sons of men brought in subtly veiled rottenness. The first thing we knew we were accepting immorality and laxness in obedience to his commandments as necessary and natural. Our youth began to take such negligence as a matter of course. It warped their sense of values. Everything had to be — what was the word — “exciting”? — no, “glamorous,” that was it. “Glamorous!” How empty and shoddy it seems now, compared to millennial life.

Yes, Lucifer crept into everything. Remember the stories and books? Little by little immorality flourished there, too. Adultery was treated as a harmless complication of married life that should be met naturally and calmly — ugh! The way the wool was pulled: over our eyes! The popular songs were slyly suggestive and — what, Elizabeth?

Oh, yes! The advertising. Anything to get money — even lies, if they could get away with it. And for what? So they could gain the pleasure of the flesh, most of which led one straight down the path to Lucifer.

It wasn’t all wickedness, though, in those days. Not always! There were the good times and the good, humble people, too. What feasts of the spirit those annual conferences were! Knowing as we do now that often angels and heavenly beings were present, it’s no wonder we felt so near to Him on those occasions. Those were the times when I wept for joy and often longed to burst into songs of praise as we do now.

Then, too, in the presence of death, I felt very close to him. Death — the word seems foreign on my tongue now. Do you know what I mean?

Elizabeth, it makes me humble to know that I, as unrighteous as I felt, (I made so many foolish mistakes) was still enabled to rise in the morning of the first resurrection. Yes, I’m weeping, I know. But I can’t help it! To hear that call — to see the graves opened! My grave, Elizabeth — and yours! My husband’s— and to see him again as I had known him in life — the same dear face, but so glorious, shining! How eagerly we embraced. Remember how the heavens were opened? I used to wonder what that expression meant, “the heavens opened” — and they did. There was that heavenly singing — and those glad hosannas ringing through the air! And when I looked up — I shall never forget it! — there coming down toward us, followed by hosts of angels, was Jehovah!

I wept — how I wept — tears of exultant joy. I — I saw my own daughter, still living on earth, caught up to meet him. We were all weeping — my father, my blessed mother, all of us! At last it was over; the trials, the pain, the sorrows of separation. All was over. All was sheaved in joy. And all through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ — Jehovah!

Oh, Elizabeth, if we could have but imagined one hundredth of the eternal joy that is the reward for righteousness. It seems to me life couldn’t have been so hard. We couldn’t have — well, I can’t find the words, that’s all. I just can’t find the words.

This I can say. My testimony of the gospel hasn’t changed since earth days, except to grow stronger. I had a testimony of the gospel then as I do now. I knew then that God lived as I know it now. The only difference is that now I can see him; now I live in his presence. But by faith and repentance, by study and, of course, through the personal witness of the Holy Ghost, I had gained the knowledge of him even then. I knew him when I saw him. I remembered him from days in the spirit world. Best of all, perhaps, when I looked into his eyes, I knew that he knew me. Every prayer I’d ever uttered, the times I’d felt him close. They were all there between us.

Internal life.

I’ve often thought that I wish I could send some message back into the past to help us then. If I could, Elizabeth, this is what I should say: “Never doubt!” I’d say, “Ever. Do not permit the slightest shred of doubt to enter your heart. Doubt is a waste of time and effort, for God lives. And every word he has ever uttered will be fulfilled. Get that,” I’d admonish them, “every word. Not just those that you can understand, or think plausible or reasonable. But every word. Therefore search out the scriptures and find what those words are that you may prepare yourselves. And the ten tribes are coming; every prophecy uttered concerning them will be fulfilled — literally.”

I’d tell them that the temple at Independence would in very deed be built and how beautiful it would be.

“Accept the words of the Lord’s anointed,” I’d say, “all of their words. It’s not for you to decide whether or not they speak under inspiration. And when God speaks to you through those men, chosen by him, don’t complain about what they say, or criticize, or doubt.”

I’d testify to them that no sacrifice is too great for righteousness. I’d plead with the young girls to be virtuous and modest and womanly. I’d plead with the young men to be chaste and to honor their priesthood, oh, how I’d emphasize that!

I’d let them know that there wasn’t long to wait; I’d urge them to trim their lamps for the coming of the Bridegroom. I’d make them ashamed for trying to imitate the ways of the world, and I’d challenge them to pride at being a “peculiar people” when that meant being the Lord’s chosen people.

That’s what I’d tell them, Elizabeth. The same things the Church Authorities told us then. The very same, the same thing, as a matter of fact, that the Lord had spoken before time, and did speak during time.

Foolish man, why couldn’t he see that without God, he is nothing! Why couldn’t he recognize that God’s words were truth, and that truth and strict adherence to principles alone could save him? Why, Elizabeth? Why?