Conduit without Constraint

As an elder of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I am sometimes called upon to give a priesthood blessing for the sick or afflicted. This is in the grand tradition of early saints -- see James 5:13-15.

Often, also, an elder will give a blessing of counsel and advice to his children. This is called a "father's blessing," a tradition which extends back even further, into Old Testament times.

So, it was a bit of a surprise to me, when my own father asked me for a blessing. I and my siblings were all visiting our parents, sometime in the mid 1980's. Our father had suffered a stroke in 1978, and his recovery was very slow. Actually, less a "recovery" than learning to compensate for his diminished abilities and still enjoy life as it had become.

Some of the family took me aside for a serious conversation before I fulfilled his request. They pointed out that our father had lived a good life, but that he could no longer do all of the things that he had loved as a vibrant man. They suggested that I should take advantage of this opportunity to give him a blessing of release, allowing him to pass peacefully into the next stage of existence. There he could enjoy his full strength and vigor.

Well, with some experience holding the priesthood, one learns that the blessing doesn't come from the man, but from God. The man is but a conduit for the power of God and it is best if he does nothing to constrain it. Including have in mind some words or thoughts of his own.

We surrounded our father, seated in a chair. One of my brothers-in-law anointed his head with consecrated olive oil (James 5:14) and then I placed my hands directly on his head, with my brothers-in-law adding their own hands. I called our father by name, and by the authority of the Melchizedek priesthood, we blessed him.

One does this with a clear mind and no preconceived notions. When moved upon by the spirit, one begins to speak. Many words flowed through me, but the only phrase that I remember clearly was, "and you will yet live to be of service in the Church." I know that I was prompted by the spirit to make him that promise. Yet, as a mortal man, wishing him to continue living, this felt just a bit audacious.

And, those same family members again took me aside and gently reprimanded me for missing this opportunity to let our father go. It's not that I didn't take their point, but I could only utter words as given by the spirit, and it was not his time to go.

As it turns out, our parents were called to serve a senior couple mission, and worked for 18 months in the Granite Mountain Records Vault, labeling rolls of microfilm containing genealogical records. They moved into a little apartment in Salt Lake City. Every work day, after a devotional (which they simply loved), they were bused to the canyon. They made many friends, and enjoyed their work, and were grateful to be able to serve.

A short time after their return, we were again gathered as a family, and once again my father asked me for a blessing. Again, as you might imagine, I was taken aside.

I remember very clearly in this blessing trying to release my father to go on. It seemed as if I felt the Father chuckling at my consternation, and I was given a thought which I put into words like these, "Dad, the Lord is pleased with your life and you have finished your mission on earth, and when you desire it, you may go into the next life."

At the conclusion of the blessing, our father reached up with his left hand and pulled me closer, and croaked, "I don't want to die!" After some nervous laughter all around, I reminded him of the exact words, and as I remembered clearly the sense that was given me, but which I had had to put into my own words, I told him that he didn't have to die now, that it was up to him, and that he wouldn't die until he was good and ready. That phrase so suits our father's personality. Perhaps this explains a bit the humor of my situation, while searching for the words to express the thought that came into my heart with a heavenly chuckle.

Even though, at the time, I had been less than totally active in the Church, in both cases I listened to the spirit and served as a conduit for God's will without constraining it with my own thoughts and desires.

Many years later, our father passed away peacefully. I can only suppose that he was good and ready.

Our mother followed him less than three years later.