{"id":89266,"date":"2020-11-26T15:40:09","date_gmt":"2020-11-26T22:40:09","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/admin.patheos.com\/blogs\/danpeterson\/?p=89266"},"modified":"2020-11-26T16:50:10","modified_gmt":"2020-11-26T23:50:10","slug":"family-temple-and-eternal-life-give-thanks","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/danpeterson\/2020\/11\/family-temple-and-eternal-life-give-thanks.html","title":{"rendered":"Family, Temple, and Eternal Life #Give Thanks"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<\/head>

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"The<\/a>
While I was growing up in the greater Los Angeles area, this was \u201cmy\u201d temple. And this is where, finally, my parents were sealed together for time and all eternity, and where my brother and I were sealed to them. I\u2019m profoundly grateful for that.\u00a0 (Public domain image from Wikimedia Commons)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

On this 2020 American Thanksgiving Day, I\u2019m acutely aware of my inability to gather safely with members of my extended family.\u00a0 Some are across the country.\u00a0 Some are altogether out<\/em> of the country.\u00a0Some are close but are vulnerable to the coronavirus pandemic.\u00a0One of our grandchildren is now more than a year old, yet we still haven\u2019t actually met her.\u00a0 (We plan at least three Zoom gatherings for later today.)\u00a0 Many are simply, sadly, gone.\u00a0 At all times, though, I\u2019m grateful for my family, and for the Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ and the ordinances of the temple, which assure me that I will see the departed members of my family again, that our connection with the living and the dead is eternal, and that we will still be family in the world to come.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Obviously, naturalistic materialism can make no such promise.\u00a0 But neither can traditional Christianity, although (for at least the past couple of centuries) many Christians have pictured themselves enjoying heaven with parents and children and kin, revealing an instinct or an intuition far sounder than their theologians, who have sometimes denounced their hope for heaven as mere sentimentality if not altogether as false doctrine.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

In the Inferno<\/em>, Purgatorio<\/em>, and Paradiso<\/em> of Dante\u2019s\u00a0 great early-fourteenth-century Divina Commedia<\/em>, for instance, postmortem spirits are depicted \u2014 with very few exceptions (e.g., the adulterous lovers Paolo and Francesca da Rimini, of Inferno<\/em> V.73-142, who are linked in the torment of their never-ending damnation) \u2014 as separated individuals, as social atoms, not as spouses or members of families.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

The oldest standard English-language wedding vows still in mainstream Christian use date back through Archbishop Thomas Cranmer\u2019s 1549 Anglican\u00a0\u00a0Book of Common Prayer<\/em>\u00a0to at least the so-called \u201cSarum rite\u201d that governed Church rituals in England from the eleventh century to the advent of the Reformation.\u00a0 Strikingly, they pronounce the end of the marital relationship on the very day that they initiate it:<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

I, _____, take thee, _____, to be my wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God\u2019s holy ordinance.<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

The Quakers, dissenting from the Church of England, were once even more explicit on this point.\u00a0 Their\u00a0earliest standard wedding vows\u00a0expressly identify God\u2019s hand as inescapably\u00a0ending<\/em> human marriage:<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Friends, in the fear of the Lord, and before this assembly, I take my friend\u00a0AB<\/em>\u00a0to be my wife, promising, through divine assistance, to be unto her a loving and faithful husband, until it shall please the Lord by death to separate us.<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Across the Episcopal, Methodist, Presbyterian, Lutheran, and other Protestant traditions, wedding rites commonly include some variant of a familiar pledge to be faithful to one another \u201cas long as you\/we both shall live.\u201d\u00a0 The formal bond between husband and wife and, thus, between parents and children is not envisioned as surviving death.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"Dad<\/a>
My father with a friend, on the continent of Europe sometime (I\u2019m guessing) in early to mid-1945.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"My<\/a>
This early portrait of my mother, carefully framed by my father using the finest imported hardwood, was an early harbinger of my impressive artistic ability.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

But I want to see my father and my mother again.\u00a0 I make no secret of that.\u00a0 So many things have happened that I would like to tell them about.\u00a0 So many things that would amuse them.\u00a0 In each case, it was time for them to go, but that didn\u2019t ease the pain very much for me.\u00a0 For years, since I lived hundreds of miles away and was often on the road, I spoke to them every night by telephone.\u00a0 And then, suddenly, there was nobody left to call.\u00a0 At their funerals, I predicted that no day would go by without my thinking of them.\u00a0 I wondered afterwards whether, as years and decades passed, that would really prove to be true.\u00a0 But it has.\u00a0 Every day awakens memories.\u00a0 And, for some reason that I can\u2019t begin to explain, looking at the moon and the stars in a clear night sky almost invariably starts me talking to them, silently or even, sometimes, audibly.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"Kenneth<\/a>
My brother Kenneth, gone too soon.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

I want to see my brother again.\u00a0 The day of his shocking and sudden death in 2012 remains one of the worst of my life.\u00a0 I had so much more that I wanted to do with him.\u00a0 I have so many questions that I wish I could ask him.\u00a0 And, again, there are so many things to discuss.\u00a0 We weren\u2019t done.\u00a0 I wasn\u2019t ready to say goodbye.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"An<\/a>
Our little first granddaughter, in an image kindly created for my son and his wife by their friend Angela<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

I look forward to getting to know my first grandchild, whose brief earthly sojourn in mid-2014 never allowed her even to leave the Florida hospital in which she was born.\u00a0 I want very much to meet her:<\/p>\n

\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\"Kj\u00f8snesfjord<\/a>
Kj\u00f8snesfjorden i J\u00f8lster (Wikimedia Commons public domain image)
My grandmother grew up here, on a farm called S\u00f8gnesand that still exists on the water\u2019s edge in the lower lefthand corner of this photograph.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

I never knew either of my grandfathers.\u00a0 Both died before I was born.\u00a0 My grandmothers both died when I was five years old.\u00a0 I\u2019m not sure that I remember my maternal grandmother at all; she lived in Utah while I grew up in California, and I may simply be remembering photographs of her (although I have one very clear image in my memory from the day of her funeral in St. George).\u00a0 I think that I recall my paternal grandmother\u2019s whispery but kind older lady\u2019s voice, with her heavy Norwegian accent.\u00a0 (Alone of her family at the time, she came to America in her late teens; she never saw her parents again.). In her last years, she and (for a time) her husband, my grandfather, lived in southern California, where most of her children had settled and where the weather was friendlier to old age than in North Dakota.\u00a0 But maybe I\u2019m remembering her younger sister, Christina, whom I met once and who lived to be either 105 or 106.\u00a0 I always felt slightly deprived because, unlike my friends growing up, I had no living grandparents.\u00a0 I want to get to know them.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"Ruth<\/a>
Ruth M. Stephens (1927-2013)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

I miss my mother-in-law, Ruth Stephens, whom we lost on 6 April 2013 after we had already lost her to a painful battle with dementia that had obscured and then erased her personality, her musical and cultural interests, her zest for learning and for travel \u2014 we traveled many times, domestically and internationally, with her and my father-in-law \u2014 and her often sparkling wit.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

My aunts and uncles are all gone now.\u00a0 And the men who worked for the family construction business in South El Monte \u2014 Warren Salmon, Red Faler, the Beltran brothers (Tino and Frank and Hank), Charlie Felix, Joe Esparza, and others, some of whom, before I really understood the meaning of the word, I knew<\/em> as \u201cuncles\u201d \u2014 they\u2019re gone, too.\u00a0 Every one of them.\u00a0 So, too, are all the neighbors that I knew there in San Gabriel, and the others of my parents\u2019 generation \u2014 the Smiths, the Funks, the Brintons, the Gilbrides, and more \u2014 with whom I grew up camping in the California desert and on California\u2019s beaches, rockhounding, and exploring the \u201cMother Lode\u201d gold country.\u00a0 Every time we drive past the Afton Canyon exit on I-15, which has happened more and more seldom in recent years, it\u2019s tradition in my family for everyone to put his or her right hand over the heart out of veneration for the site of so many memories.\u00a0 Afton Canyon was a place for riding motorcyles and hunting for geodes and hearing tall tales around the campfire.\u00a0 .\u00a0 Once, of all things, my brother and I were stuck there for over an hour in our Jeep when we tried to pass through an arroyo that, for once, had water in it after a recent cloudburst.\u00a0 Considerably more than we had guessed.\u00a0 Our engine stalled with at least fifty feet of water on every side, in which, we were quite sure, we could see swimming snakes.\u00a0 Climbing over the vehicle, opening up the hood, and trying to dry the engine involved acrobatic skills that would have impressed any observer, had there been one.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

These were vivid personalities, and they remain vivid in my memory \u2014 although that memory will fade rapidly as my own generation passes.\u00a0 My experience is pretty much the same as that of hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of millions of others, living and dead.\u00a0 We all have loved ones.\u00a0 And we all lose them, unless or until we ourselves are lost.\u00a0 Personality is the most precious thing in the universe.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

But the Restoration promises that the dead persist as more than mere fading memories.\u00a0 It declares that personality survives, that it is everlasting.\u00a0 Even more than that, it offers the hope that our relationships can be preserved and perfected, too.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd that\u00a0same sociality\u00a0which exists among us here will exist among us there, only it will be coupled with eternal glory\u201d<\/strong> (Doctrine and Covenants 130:2).<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

I look forward to getting to know my first grandchild, whose brief earthly sojourn in mid-2014 never allowed her even to leave the Florida hospital in which she was born.\u00a0 I want very much to meet her:<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

#GiveThanks<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

There is a song in the Latter-day Saint hymnal that, growing up, I thought pure corny sentimentality.\u00a0 I no longer do:<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\n

Oh, what songs of the heart<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

We shall sing all the day,<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

When again we assemble at home,<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

When we meet ne\u2019er to part<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

With the blest o\u2019er the way,<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

There no more from our loved ones to roam!<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

When we meet ne\u2019er to part,<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Oh, what songs of the heart<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

We shall sing in our beautiful home.<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Tho our rapture and bliss<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

There\u2019s no song can express,<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

We will shout, we will sing o\u2019er and o\u2019er,<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

As we greet with a kiss,<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

And with joy we caress<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

All our loved ones that passed on before;<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

As we greet with a kiss,<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

In our rapture and bliss,<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

All our loved ones that passed on before.<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

So I\u2019m grateful, grateful beyond expression, for the hope of life everlasting and of the perpetuation of family and other relationships into the next world.\u00a0 On this Thanksgiving Day and every day.\u00a0 I\u2019m thankful to God for the promises he makes:<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

So long thy power hath blest me, sure it still<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Will lead me on,<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

O\u2019er moor and fen, o\u2019er crag and torrent, till<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

The night is gone,<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

And with the morn those angel faces smile,<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Which I have loved long since, and lost a while.<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u00a0 \u00a0 On this 2020 American Thanksgiving Day, I\u2019m acutely aware of my inability to gather safely with members of my extended family.\u00a0 Some are across the country.\u00a0 Some are altogether out of the country.\u00a0Some are close but are vulnerable to the coronavirus pandemic.\u00a0One of our grandchildren is now more than a year old, yet […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1019,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-89266","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\nFamily, Temple, and Eternal Life #Give Thanks<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"    On this 2020 American Thanksgiving Day, I'm acutely aware of my inability to gather safely with members of my extended family.\u00a0 Some are\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, 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