The devil’s world

I can’t help but think of this as the devil’s world. After all, he says, he is the god of this world; he says that this is the great day of his power and that he reigns from the rivers to the ends of the earth. He says this is his kingdom — this world in which we live — this telestial world.

Why would we come down to dwell in hell — on earth where Satan and his minions roam freely?

I think we forget about that. This life is a life of testing, and therefore we continually run into stumbling blocks and opposition and paradoxes and good and evil. The trials of Abraham are real. I tell my kids this every time something goes wrong. I remind myself as well. Life is not always rosy and perfect. For those seeking greater light and knowledge, this world becomes a real battleground. And it’s not that simple — it’s not just a test of whether we go to church on Sunday and fulfill our callings. This isn’t a check-the-box life for success. The Pharisees and Sadducees did that. Oh, but we feel so good when we can check off our list. (And I’m not recommending you throw that out.) But human nature as it is, we can busy ourselves with a list and not be open to change; not be open to a reversal from what we thought we knew.

We are naturally drawn to seek the things of this world to live — education, jobs, housing, food, transportation, and the list goes on. We admire those who succeed in the world. We get caught up in it seemingly out of necessity — “Do the very best you can to succeed.” And yet, this world is a testing ground for faith — believing without seeing. Learn to trust that the Lord will provide for you is easier said than truly believed. This life is not really a test for becoming powerful and prominent in the eyes of the world. But it feels so good to be accepted in this world. It’s the world we know. And it does provide the resistance and opposition necessary for any ascent on the ladder to heaven. “Is there no other way?” asks Eve. No. no other way.

As described in The Pearl, we leave our heavenly mother and father — our former home — to come to earth and retrieve the pearl from the dragon — and in the process, we forget who we are and why we are here. We adopt the dress of the world and become diverted from our calling. Or we think we know our calling and dutifully march to the drum, attending the temple, where too often we become like the dumb animals that have no idea what or why they are there.

1:11 For what purposes are your abundant sacrifices to me? says Jehovah. I have had my fill of offerings of rams and fat of fatted beasts; the blood of bulls and sheep and he-goats I do not want.

1:12 When you come to see me, who requires you to trample my courts so? 

The question asked at the beginning of verse 11 is answered at the beginning of verse 12: Jehovah’s people attend the temple to see Jehovah. If they aren’t there for that purpose, then all else doesn’t count for much. That reveals an appalling paradox: instead of going to see Jehovah, his people resemble the dumb animals that were anciently brought for sacrifice, which were unaware of their reason for being there. Instead of making an offering of their whole souls to God—as symbolized by the burnt offerings and shedding of the animals’ blood—his people trudge about the temple’s courts defiling it. (Apocalyptic  Commentary of Isaiah, Gileadi, Isaiah 1: 11-12)

It certainly is a good test — it’s super difficult since you arrive here completely devoid of any memory of your past or why you are here. Nibley often refers to this life as the middle of a play — you’re dropped down into it, and you have no clue what’s going on. “What’s happening? What am I supposed to do?” Our learning to become like God is so different from the traditions of man. And thus, we must push past much of what we see as successful. Faith is a different power.

 

 

 

Originally posted 2016, updated 2021.