Samuel returned to the battlefield. When others would have moved on, or basked in
the glory of a major battle won, he turned back, not to remain in the past, but
to remember. Against all military odds,
the Israelites had defeated the Philistines and won back the Arc of the
Covenant. It was a battle of faith, and
the faithful rose victorious. But Samuel knew the tendency of the Israelites to forget God’s mighty arm, and he probably wanted to build the confidence of his people (confidence is remembered success). He also knew that such a miraculous victory merited this symbol and sacrifice. So Samuel
returned to the place and raised a stone, a marker, an altar, to remind
everyone: “Heretofore hath the Lord helped us.” He called the memorial
Ebenezar, meaning “stone of help” (Even = stone / Haazer = help).
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| Even Haazer (Ebenezer) |
Altars have been tokens of holy connection since the
beginning of mankind. Adam and Eve built
an altar before they even had children.
And all their posterity, through generations of time, have done the
same. We worship at altars, bless bread
and water, endow and seal sacred relationships, Our pulpits allude to altars,
and our own beds become altars as we kneel before them.
From Creation until the meridian of time, altars were also
used for sacrifices. Literal blood
sacrifices. But that all changed with
the dawn of Easter, when no more blood was required than had already been
spilled in the Garden and on the Cross.
For some devout Christians it is believed that nothing can
be sacrificed again, because of the great sacrifice offered by the Savior. We
are saved by grace alone. Indeed, we are saved by His Grace.
While it is certainly true that no other sacrifice will ever
approach that offering, I am one to believe that we are invited to offer up
sacrifices not of blood, but of the spirit upon our own altars as well as
consecrated altars in holy places. Christ opens the door that we cannot open
for ourselves, but our own two feet carry us through. We must be comfortable living godly lives to
be able to be happy where God is.
Tomorrow, Easter Sunday, my sister Ann Marie Mullen and her
husband Michael, place a stone upon their altar. They will be giving what we
Mormons know as their Farewell address in church, before they leave to serve an
eighteen month mission in London, England. Michael is retiring after a
distinguished career in the Navy and in private practice as an oral surgeon. He
is renowned for his skill and intellect.
His hands are artistic and capable.
He has also served as stake president for a decade, and a bishop in his
local ward. But this is his first
mission. He joined the LDS church when
he was past the age of younger missionaries and already into his career and
obligations with the US Navy. Ann Marie also leaves a career as an audiologist,
and church service which includes experience as president of all the women’s
organizations in the church. They are a
power couple, so to speak, and they could ride the crest of the waves they have
created for a long time, clear into the sunset if they so desired. They and Samuel,who led the Israelites in
battle, could have chosen to rest on their laurels. But they, too, choose to turn back and make a
statement to all mankind and to their Lord that they recognize His help in
their lives thus far, and they will sacrifice in the name of their Lord to
remind others of His awesome hand.
I quiver with remembrance of the sacred time when Ann Marie
sat at Michael’s bedside in the hospital, her head bowed in prayer, then rising
with determination to use all her intelligence, tenacity, diplomacy and faith
to advocate for him. An aneurysm had
formed in his brain, from ear to ear, and no one but his wife believed he would
survive it. And yet, here he is, years
later, having miraculously returned to his career as a surgeon. His doctors are still stunned. But his wife
is not. She did not sit by and
weep. It’s not her style. She led even the doctors toward a solution.
She herself, a survivor of cancer, knows the miracles that come when a woman puts
her shoulder to the wheel and her hand in God’s.
And so, because they survived the battle so far, they place
this stone upon their altar. Their “going forward in faith” is a form of
“turning back in thanks”. And their altar? While some would think of their beautiful,
gracious home in Granite Bay, as a worldly edifice, to me and all those who
know them well, it is their altar. It’s
there they raised their two devoted children, whose love of their family is
only surpassed by their love of God. It
is where Michael laid his hands upon the heads of many servants, young and not
so young, setting them apart as missionaries.
It is where Young Women gathered around their kitchen island and learned
to make bread. It’s where Seminary
students feasted around their large dining table and learned the Gospel of
Christ every weekday morning at 5 am, with Ann Marie teaching and feeding
them. It’s where tears were shed, and
joy illuminated every window. This is
the altar they raised, in their desert place.
It’s where their battles were fought and the ones that mattered were won. Now they dedicate it, and leave it for a
short while, knowing it will stand as a reminder to anyone who passes, that
God showed His hand there. They leave with a song in their hearts:
Here I raise my Ebenezer. Their exit is a polish upon the stones of that altar.
Ann Marie and Michael aka Elder and Sister Mullen: You have
already left the figurative shore. You are walking into the water, like the
Israelites at the River Jordan, trusting God will part the river and lead you
safely through.
Soon, on the other side…across the pond…you can raise this
marker:
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| Jehovah Jireh (The Lord will provide) |
Ebenezer Jehovah Jireh:
“”Hitherto hath The Lord helped us; and for all coming need, The Lord
will provide.
God speed, daughter of my mother and brother of my heart!
