Before double glazing, the world was more accessible. We could hear the noises of life outside. The dustman, the postman, the milkman, children playing in the street, could all be heard through those thin glass panes. I used to love the sound of rain driving against the windows, and wind howling round the walls. A favourite memory is sitting on a dark winter’s night, in front of a blazing fire, with a mug of cocoa and a good book. Safe, warm and dry as the fury of a storm lashed against the windows and rain streamed down them. A cocoon of comfort and security.
Yes, we lose a lot with our centrally-heated, double-glazed, hermetically-sealed houses. But given the choice, would I switch to the 1950s council house I grew up in? I think you know the answer to that! Nostalgia is tempered by other memories: the sheer hard work to keep the coal fire going, the curtains and draught excluders on the doors, maintenance of those wooden framed windows, broken putty requiring annual attention. So no, I wouldn’t choose to turn the clock back.
When I was a little boy, for several Christmases, an exciting lump in my stocking often turned out to be a torch, hoped for and much appreciated! These were the days before high tech, so it couldn’t send signals to Mars, but when you switched the switch, a light appeared. This had possibilities. After being tucked up for the night, I would burrow down under the blankets with my torch, and create my very own illuminated cave. With a comic and some nibbles, I would crouch there,
invulnerable, eventually coming up for air before suffocating.
This yearning for a safe, secure den, protected not just from the physical world, but from the slings and arrows of life, hasn’t changed, and it’s not just for kids. Adults seek security in all sorts of ways. Some pursue money – wealth is their torchlit den. Some pursue power, to control the turbulent world around them. Others seek isolation and solitude. Some used to build strong castles. Many seek seclusion in music, art, or nature. Now, there’s nothing inherently wrong with these things, but they may not lead to the security hoped for. Perhaps they give a partial sense of protection, but the fact is, in this life there is no secure place, nowhere than can defend against all afflictions, illness, disappointment, sorrow, physical assault, and certainly not death. We all have different strategies for dealing with an insecure world and the storms of mortality. Existential despair is widespread, with rates of suicide and depression increasing. This was prophesied. Sadly fewer now turn to the only source of comfort and peace, Jesus Christ. He offers the security we instinctively reach for.
28 ¶ Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.
30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.
It’s ironic so many ignore this source of security and peace – the only source – accepting instead melancholic misery, hopeless pessimism, and fear for the future. In the Doctrine and Covenants we read:
And in that day shall be heard of wars and rumors of wars, and the whole earth shall be in commotion, and men’s hearts shall fail them, and they shall say that Christ delayeth his coming until the end of the earth. (45:26)
And all things shall be in commotion; and surely, men’s hearts shall fail them; for fear shall come upon all people. (88:9)
Sounds contemporary? We can see it happening right now in daily news bulletins. Men’s hearts fail them when they think of security as an external shield, a kind of umbrella to keep off unwelcome incursions from inherently unpredictable mortality. But the only kind of meaningful security is within ourselves. The cave is not a place, it’s who we are. It’s a state of being, the kind of person we become by following Jesus Christ. There’s no option in this life to live without a yoke. All of us have burdens to carry, at times so heavy we are brought to our knees, which is a good place to be, since it may bring us closer to our Saviour. If we come to him, he will give us rest. No, there’s no way of avoiding a yoke, but he offers us his yoke, which is the easiest, and his burden, which is light. The more fully we accept Jesus Christ and follow his teachings, the greater our sense of security; though the world is in commotion our hearts will not fail us.
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