Sabbath Devotional :: Creation, Destruction, and Redemption

I was still reeling and in deep despair over the loss of a dear friend who had just been killed in a tragic car accident when I saw the news that Notre-Dame Cathedral was burning. The thought of more than 850 years of history, all of the meticulous efforts of thousands of unnamed builders and artisans, not to mention the 300+ years it took to grow the trees used as lumber for the original construction, all going up in flames sort of broke something in me. For a few weeks now, I have felt absolutely undone over the fundamental unfairness that it is so terribly, exhaustingly difficult to create and so frighteningly easy to destroy.

Precious lives — painstakingly grown, nurtured, developed, dedicated, sacrificed for — can be taken sometimes in seconds by random misfortune, momentary carelessness, sudden illness, or even willful destructiveness. Homes and communities built and enjoyed for generations can be obliterated in hours by a few sparks from faulty electrical equipment. Geopolitical partnerships forged over decades might be unexpectedly called into question by impulsive tweets. Countless hours of research and negotiation and attempted policymaking could all be discarded in a moment by one person with the power to prevent or sway a critical vote.

The pattern seems to be true about other less weighty matters as well. Meals that take hours of preparation are consumed in mere minutes. A race or performance for which one has carefully trained and sacrificed is made impossible by a last-minute injury. A project thoughtfully and lovingly developed over months or years might be discarded because of one vocal critic. Why is it that such great effort, thought, resources, and vulnerability are required to create something meaningful or useful or promising, and yet words of criticism or contempt can be so thoughtlessly uttered or flippantly typed? How can we bring ourselves to keep trying when the force of entropy is so strong and the potential for disappointment is so high? How can we also resist the easy inclination to merely criticize rather than work to improve?

As I have grappled with these questions over the past few weeks, two words have brought comfort: restore and redeem. Because of our Savior Jesus Christ, we can have the hope and confidence needed to keep moving forward. He is not only the creator, but also the re-creator. Where any of His creations has been corrupted or destroyed, He has the power to restore, renew, repair, redeem.

Alma taught that because of Jesus Christ, “all things shall be restored to their proper order, every thing to its natural frame” and then encouraged us to “see that you are merciful unto your brethren; deal justly, judge righteously, and do good continually; and if ye do all these things then shall ye received your reward; yea, ye shall have mercy restored unto you again; ye shall have justice restored unto you again; ye shall have a righteous judgment restored unto you again; and ye shall have good rewarded unto you again. For that which ye do send out shall return unto you again, and be restored. . .” (Alma 41:4, 14-15).

The response to the fire at Notre-Dame demonstrated a worldly version of the eternal truth that there is no price too high to redeem something into which so much has already been invested. And with Jesus Christ, there is no limitation of resources with which He is able and willing to pay for each and every one of us.

Because of Christ, we can continue creating with the faith that, however feeble or imperfect our efforts, we and they can ultimately be perfected through Him.

We can also make a greater effort to recognize and praise the creative efforts of others. This point was illustrated beautifully by Nicole Johnson on the topic of invisible motherhood, but it applies to all. She writes, “One night, some girlfriends and I were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. She had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and was telling wonderful stories. I sat there, looking around at the others all so put-together, so visible and vibrant. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic when my friend turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package and said, ‘I brought you this.’ It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn’t exactly sure why she’d given it to me until I read her inscription: ‘With admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'”

Today and every day, we can draw closer to Jesus Christ by choosing to honor the creators, encourage the builders, support the makers, be the authors and speakers of words that grow, sustain, reassure, and enlighten.