Handshakes

The Prophet Joseph Smith was visiting his parents in Far West, and a group of angry men arrived to say they were going to kill him. His mother Lucy Mack Smith relates,”[Joseph] looked upon them with a very pleasant smile and, stepping up to them, gave each of them his hand in a manner which convinced them that he was neither a guilty criminal nor yet a cowering hypocrite.” Joseph then began a conversation with them explaining how the Saints had been mistreated. The men in the end, offered to protect the Prophet. One of the men said, “Did you not feel strangely when Smith took you by the hand? I never felt so in my life.” And the other man replied, “I felt as though I could not move. I would not harm one hair of that man’s head for the whole world.”

Can you imagine the power of that handshake—his goodness simply emanated from and through him.

Two contrasting characters have stood out for me this week that have helped me make another connection with the Prophet's handshake. I have read for the first time Christopher Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus. (Marlowe was a contemporary of Shakespeare.) Doctor Faustus is from a humble beginning, but because of his desire for learning, he spent his life studying until he had all knowledge. But he wanted much more to the point that he made a pact that Lucifer could have his soul if Lucifer would grant him a servant for twenty-four years to do Faustus’ bidding and to teach him more. Lucifer allowed one of his most powerful devils Mephistopheles to serve Faustus. From the very beginning until the very end, there is a good angel and others who warn Faustus and provide opportunities for him to repent, yet Faustus is so determined that he ignores them. Of course, at the end, Faustus pleads for Lucifer to free him, but it is too late.

Think of our desires, which may be noble and good, but are they taking us away from others and from God? Are we receiving warnings that we don’t hear or that we ignore? Will there come a time when it is too late to change or we’ll not want to change?

The second character is Steinar Steinsson from Halldór Laxness’s Paradise Reclaimed. I just learned of Laxness a couple weeks ago—he is the Icelandic novelist who won the Nobel laureate for literature in 1955. Laxness is a strong Catholic who lived in the strong Lutheran country of Iceland. Paradise Reclaimed, set in the 1880s, is about Steinar of Hlidar, Iceland, who is a gentle, generous man. Steinar gives their valuable horse and an exquisite mahogany chest he has made to the visiting king of Denmark. He sees only the best in people, which is why he listens to and protects a Mormon missionary. Steinar wants to do what is right and what is good, even if it costs his family dearly. He leaves his paradise homeland and arrives in Spanish Fork, Utah, and becomes a brick maker and layer until he eventually returns to Iceland as a Mormon missionary.

No matter the hardship, Steinar does what is good, and he only wants to assist and bless people and learn the truth. He trusts, and he works.

Steinar and Faustus are such contrasts, but I find that I can identify with both. Yes, there are times I also want Faustus’ noticeable and dramatic power and influence (he is able to control popes and kings) but also Steinar’s gentle, quiet strength.

Which gets us back to the Prophet Joseph. He does have power, influence, gentleness, and quiet strength. But all of that comes through the power of the Holy Ghost, the grace of Christ, and his own goodness. Joseph has told us that when we are instrumental in God’s great work, “He will endow [us] with power, wisdom, might, and intelligence, and every qualification necessary; while [our] minds will expand wider and wider, until [we] can circumscribe the earth and the heavens, reach forth into eternity and contemplate the mighty acts of Jehovah in all their variety and glory.” --That is power!

Let's reach out to shake someone’s hand, someone who needs our strength.