--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Christensen, Parley A. collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 25 number: 8 published: 1922-06 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Parley A. Christensen, "Divine Discontent," *Improvement Era* 25, no. 8 (June 1922): 687–689.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2508unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera2508unse start_page: 687 end_page: 689 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1922-06) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2508unse publication_year: 1922 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1922, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Divine Discontent <?<? Divine Discontent" By Parley A. Christensen, Professor of English^ Brigham Young College As Latter-day Saints we are always eager to expound the principle of eternal progression. We are justly proud of the conception, for it is a sublime one. It seems to us a vitally necessary thought in any philosophy which would give meaning and purpose to our existence. Unfortunately, in the warp and woof of this doctrine there resides something which, when wrongly conceived, tends to lull some of us into a dangerous repose. Subscribing to the idea of eternal progress, we find it easy very early in life to leave the entire matter of progress to eternity. Infinity offers ample time for the tasks of personal improvement; besides it seems fitting that a process of such epic scope as limitless advancement should be associated in our minds with a setting not less impressive than eternity itself. And somehow it is only by a cruel twist of our sensibilities that eter- nity can be made to have any tangible connection with the pres- ent. Like the desert mirage it maintains in our thinking an unvarying remoteness. We, accordingly, find ourselves not easily disturbed by the restless teachers of practical theology who insist that it is out of the simple experiences of this work- a-day world that the subtle changes are made which measure our advance toward the objectives of the life hereafter. If we are to avoid the tragedy of waste, which is the un- failing companion of inertia, we must in some way be jerked into a consciousness of the bearing of the present on the fu- ture; we must indeed be made to "catch the future in the in- stant." If our doctrine of eternal progression is to have any value, aside from its use as a fundamental truth in our re- ligious speculations, it must be made to touch very intimately the here and now. It must be expounded in terms of what we know, in terms of what we do as citizens and neighbors, in terms of the books and pictures we enjoy, the records we buy, and the tunes we whistle. It must, in other words, be expounded in terms of increasing knowledge, and changing at- titudes and appreciations. It must gently but persistently urge us to get away from ourselves as we are and seek ourselves as we ought to be. It must arouse in us that condition which George Herbert Palmer had in mind when he said, "For in the lives of us all there should be a divine discontent — not devilish 688 IMPROVEMENT ERA discontent, but divine discontent — a consciousness that life may be larger than we have yet attained, that we are to press be- yond what we have reached, that joy lies in the future, in that which has not been found, rather than in the realized present." The organization in the Church best fitted to stimulate a wholesome discontent is the Mutual Improvement Association. By its title it is dedicated to the task of arousing its members to a common betterment. This organization, if it is functioning, is helping men and women to understand how much more the gospel comprehends than a knowledge of the Ten Command- ments, the Articles of Faith, and the Word of Wisdom. These are, of course, fundamental as guide posts in the way of life, but the way of life not the guide posts, is the vital thing. There is, perhaps, nothing more disconcerting to the alert young Lat- ter-day Saint, eager and confident in his quest for learning, than to find his mature brethren and sisters enjoying a kind of smug complacency in the belief that all that is important in the life of the soul is a knowledge of what the Lord has revealed. Noth- ing could be further from the purposes of the Creator, and noth- ing could be more fatal to effort than the idea that all the fine things of the mind and heart come as gifts. The gospel clearly enjoins us to strive after truth. "If there is anything virtuous, lovely, of good report, or praiseworthy, we seek after these things." They do not come to us as divine gifts. They are the divine rewards of our striving. This means that we must some- how catch that discontent which impels men and women to rise above themselves to the mors excellent things that await them. It means that we must keep our minds open, observe carefully, and read studiously; it means that we must rise slowly but surely in appreciation to the levels of the best in the thought, the literature, the music and the art of the world. The unhappy Guinevere, reviewing in solitude the tragic errors of her life, cries out with a new understanding: What might I not have made of thy fair world, Had I but loved thy highest creature here? It was my duty to have loved the highest; It surely was my profit had I known; It would have been my pleasure had I seen. We needs must love the highest when we see it. Is it not our profit pleasure, and duty to love the highest in all things? It is a long road from Harold Bell Wright to Victor Hugo, but duty calls to the journey, and the way is made delightful with a compensating exaltation. Having once lived and suffered with Jean Valjean, we can never again accept "Patches" as a definition of a man. We have gained a new DIVINE DISCONTENT 6M perspective, and have searched the human heart with a deeper insight. We have progressed, and we can never go back to our former selves. It is a far cry from tom-toms to the music of the spheres, and the popular music of recent years shows how little many of us have outgrown the tom-toms. But here again our reach should exceed our grasp. We are not ready for the divine symphonies, but we should in music live with the things that lift us. If we hear the music that is lovely until our spirits catch the complex rythms and tenuous harmonies, we shall never again be set a-capering by the primitive appeal of laughing trombones and sobbing saxaphones. And so it is in the growth of all excellent attitudes and appreciations. If we feel the impetus of a divine discontent; if we, as a matter of duty, intelligently seek the things that are highest, we shall find in ourselves illimitable capacities for personal enlargement; and the result will be that for us the principle of eternal progress shall have a new and practical sig- nificance. Logan, Utah If Only You'd Play With Me (Theme — "Wlien You and I were Young, Maggie.") The days must be far away, Daddy, Ever so far away, Since you were a boy like me, Daddy, And knew what it was to play. There's grey in the strands of your hair, Daddy, And sometimes it makes me blue, To see the lines in your face, Daddy, That won't let the smiles come through. Sometimes I'm worried and blue, Daddy, Wondering all the day, Whatever a lad might do, Daddy, To make you fond of my play; I love the cling of your hand, Daddy, It's sunny whenever you smile, And if only you'd join in the games, Daddy, The day would be one glad while. Sometimes the games go wrong, Daddy, That's when the boys aren't square, And if only you were along, Daddy, Things would be fine and fair; If I could be big like you, Daddy, And you were a tad like me, I'd stand by and fight for you, Daddy, Then maybe you'd play with me. Mesa, Arizona Bertha A. Kleinm :n