Greed: When Enough Is Not Enough

Greed: When Enough Is Not Enough

BY RICHARD TICE

Assistant Editor

These days on television, greed seems to be the fashion: rich oilmen ruin their families for money, drug runners count their toll in ruined lives as a profit, young executives flaunt their successes with expensive cars and fancy condominiums.

Unfortunately, the media glitz suggests that greed is a problem only for certain kinds of people or that it will infect us only a few times in our lifetime. In reality, greed is a fairly universal sickness. Poverty is certainly not an antidote for it, but then, neither is wealth. You can find greed wherever you live—it knows no class, race, nation, or language.

The Symptoms of Greed
Greed shows up in many ways. Paul says, “The love of money is the root of all evil.” (1 Tim. 6:10; italics added.) The symptoms of greed are legion. For instance, Colossians 3:5 and 2 Nephi 9:30 tell us that covetousness is idolatry. [Col. 3:5, 2 Ne. 9:30] When we set our hearts upon anything other than God, we in effect worship “the image of [our] own god, whose image is in the likeness of the world.” (D&C 1:16.) Another problem that often attends avarice is the feeling that we never have enough. (See Isa. 56:11; D&C 56:17.) In many ways, greed is the antithesis of love: it does not suffer long, it is not kind, it envies, it puffs itself up, its behavior is unseemly, it seeks its own, it is easily provoked, and it thinks evil. Greed also fosters thievery, dishonesty, lust, and pride. (See 1 Cor. 13:4–5; Ex. 20:17; Micah 2:2; Micah 6:10–11; 2 Ne. 28:15.)

I first began to understand greed through one of the most unusual jobs I’ve ever had. My father and two of his army buddies started a government contracting company in South Vietnam after he retired from the service. It was one of several businesses that handled jobs the armed forces subcontracted out. Dad’s company bid on U.S. government service contracts and security jobs. In 1972, Dad suggested that I work with them that summer in helping write bids and contracts. The salary, he pointed out, would cover the expenses of my upcoming mission. Despite the danger at that time in the Far East, I decided to accept the job.

The lure and availability of money in a low-expense, unstable, war-torn nation proved fertile ground for the seeds of greed. Though the official exchange rate was 118 piasters to a dollar, the black-market rate was 450 piasters to a dollar. Many dabbled in illegal investments. At least one American I knew built a fortune that way before he was caught. Buying piasters on the black market and selling them at the official rate further weakened an already-weak money system.

During the three months I was in Saigon and Hong Kong, I spent a total of about four hundred dollars, yet I lived far better than I had in the United States. Most American civilians I knew employed several servants and lived in villas left from the French occupation. I remember several conversations I had with acquaintances about whether we were preying on a weak economy or helping to strengthen it.

Saigon featured an unusual price system—the Vietnamese paid one price, the Americans another. For example, a haircut that would cost me 1,200 piasters would cost the Vietnamese only 20 or 30. Unfortunately, even some of the more well-to-do Vietnamese were drawn by U.S. money to act dishonestly. Policemen, for instance, would stop Americans and fine them on trumped-up charges—they had to be paid before the Americans could go on their way.

That summer, the armed forces put up 690,000 tons of scrap metal for sale. Buyers would be responsible for transporting the metal outside of Vietnam, where markets paid about twelve dollars or more per ton. My father’s company bought approximately 40,000 tons of scrap, bidding seven dollars a ton, which was high bid. Dad planned to find a buyer outside of Vietnam who would advance part of the payment, enabling his company to pay the $280,000 to the U.S. government before the thirty-day deadline was up. As middleman, my father would arrange to cut the scrap into movable pieces, transport it to the dock, load it onto a boat he had scheduled, and ship it to the prospective buyers. The company could make between two and three dollars a ton.

One day, a man representing some Hong Kong investors offered to buy the scrap, promising to pay half now and half on delivery. But he kept stalling, and the deadline for payment kept getting nearer. Dad finally discovered that the man hoped to make Dad’s company forfeit so that he could buy the metal for less when it again went up for bidding. He hid his plans from the people he represented in order to pocket the difference. Fortunately, Dad got an extension to pay for the scrap, and the man was fired. However, the company had to start paying nearly one thousand dollars a day for storage.

As it turned out, there were plenty of bids for the nearly seven hundred thousand tons of scrap, but no one was able to get the metal outside of Vietnam. Transportation and labor costs skyrocketed. Each union—truck drivers, stevedores, and other workers—as well as individuals asked such high wages that moving the scrap would cause a loss. Many even sabotaged others’ efforts by refusing to work. Dad ended up paying more than twenty thousand dollars in storage costs. When the United States pulled out of the country, all the scrap metal was still there.

In those three months, I learned some sobering facts about greed. No one is immune to it, and everyone must guard against it. It shows itself in a multitude of ways. At its worst, it results in cutthroat business practices, dishonesty, cheating, lying, disloyalty, theft, inequality, and murder. At its subtlest, it alienates friends and distorts one’s values.

Another reason greed is so insidious is that it can be nearly invisible. Our contemporary life-styles not only encourage but also mask it.

A few months after my experience in Vietnam, I left for a mission in Japan. Then, in 1976, I returned to Japan, with my wife and daughter, to teach English. We rented a sparsely furnished Japanese-style house with a tiny backyard. The largest room was both living room and bedroom. We had no oven, clothes dryer, or central heater. (Most Japanese still don’t use them.) For transportation, we used bicycles and buses. Our life-style was not much different from that of most Japanese.

We enjoyed our three-year stay in Japan immensely. I missed having an oven, but I loved the way we could roll up our beds and stuff them into a closet. Cleaning such a small house (about four hundred square feet) was a snap. I learned to like sundried clothes better than clothes tumbled in a dryer. I fell in love with bicycles, and using them to go to church or to go shopping proved to be easier than I had thought. The simplicity of home life was a welcome change from the hectic pace of teaching twelve language classes and fulfilling several callings in a small branch of the Church. We could save fairly easily, too. We weren’t tempted to buy things on credit—the practice was minimal in Japan—and our expenses were low. (Our rent was about $125 a month.)

Although learning to do without some conveniences I had been used to was not easy, coming back to the States was even more difficult. I’m still amazed at how much Western society encourages and, in some cases, forces spending. Furniture, appliances, and cars are just some of the things many families expect to own. American manufacturers, for example, offer major appliances in sizes ranging from large to largest. In Japan, we owned the second-largest refrigerator model available, and it was still smaller than the smallest standard model I could find in U.S. stores. In the United States and Canada, houses are big. Those who buy a house expect to spend between $45,000 and $200,000, depending on where they live. There aren’t many less-expensive alternatives, and most of us don’t anticipate any.

Of course, living comfortably isn’t a sin. But some societies have developed such expensive standards of living that greed surreptitiously begins its work. Home owners buy larger and more expensive beds, furniture, fixtures, drapes, television sets, refrigerators, ovens, washers, dryers—and then add garages, patios, and dishwashers. Typically, people take out extensive loans and use up much of their savings and much of their income to buy these things.

Such a life-style sets traps of greed. For example, doing without can easily create a feeling of dissatisfaction, especially when we’re doing without things that we consider necessary and not luxurious. On the other hand, buying them burdens our income, and we may find ourselves chafing under financial bondage. Without realizing it, we start to long for more money, complain about how little we have or how hard things are financially, and feel that we do not yet have the “essentials.”

In thinking of the expenses of furnishing a home and putting in a yard, I often forget that I already have four to five times as many material things as I had in Japan. And compared with what the Vietnamese had when I lived in Vietnam, I’m fabulously wealthy. We simply may not recognize what we have because we’re so busy thinking about what we don’t have.

On top of this are the vast number of material attractions that go with life in well-to-do countries. Everything has better, more-expensive brands or models. There are also articles not considered “essentials” that would be fun to have: computers, videocassette recorders, second or third cars, motorbikes, boats, motor homes, air conditioners, satellite dishes, and so on. All are advertised in endless array.

Are any of these extras really bad? Many people have a number of them, and we ourselves may have bought some and discovered how much fun they are. But if we aren’t careful, can we begin to covet these things and push our faith in Jesus Christ to the background? Does our desire for pleasure and physical gratification ever undercut our efforts to live the Lord’s commandments?

It isn’t the possession of these material things that injures us as much as it is our attitudes toward them. Those of us who have sufficient for our needs must constantly guard against false expectations and warped attitudes. Dissatisfaction with what we have and eager anticipation of what we might buy next are subtle manifestations of greed. They can lead to anger about tight budgets and apparently inadequate incomes. Our attitudes and expectations can also be colored by ignorance. We may think we don’t have much or that we have about what other people have. But our lack of knowledge about other people and economies may mislead us into thinking that our standard of living really is “standard.” Last year, for instance, a visitor from Shanghai stayed with my family for a few days. He was about to return to China and wanted to take his wife some inexpensive gifts not readily available there. We took him to a department store, where he pointed out all sorts of small items that were new to him. He ended up choosing mirror sunglasses and a can opener with revolving handle.

Belief in the “Gospel of Wealth”
Sometimes greed infects those who mistakenly believe that God rewards righteous living with material wealth. Certainly, one of the oft-repeated promises in the Book of Mormon is this:

“If ye will keep my commandments ye shall prosper in the land.” (Alma 37:13.)

That parallels the more general promise: “Keep the charge of the Lord thy God, to walk in his ways, to keep his statutes, and his commandments, … that thou mayest prosper in all that thou doest.” (1 Kgs. 2:3.)

There is a difference between wealth and prosperity, however. The Lord has promised that if we serve him, we will prosper and have sufficient for our needs. But wealth is another matter. With so many millions in the world who don’t have enough for their daily needs, why should we expect the Lord to make us wealthy?

And yet, many of us continue to expect that our material conditions will automatically improve if we remain faithful. Some tithe payers even think of tithing in terms of an investment—expecting their tithes, like good stock investments, to pay dividends in greater material wealth. After all, they feel, the Lord has promised that he will open the windows of heaven to those who tithe. (See Mal. 3:8–12.) That promise, however, may have spiritual as well as temporal overtones. The only concrete promise in Malachi is that the Lord will rebuke the devourer; it makes no promise of material gain.

Elsewhere, the Lord talks about the nature of the riches that he may give us: “If ye seek the riches which it is the will of the Father to give unto you, ye shall be the richest of all people, for ye shall have the riches of eternity.” Then he adds a warning about earthly wealth: “It must needs be that the riches of the earth are mine to give; but beware of pride, lest ye become as the Nephites of old.” (D&C 38:39.)

There is no doubt that the Lord does bless us—but in his way. Many who diligently try to keep the Lord’s commandments do not flourish financially. Many, in fact, may find themselves at times unable to make ends meet. Yet they can point to spiritual riches the Lord has given them that they would never trade for a new car or a more luxurious home.

They are experiencing the blessings that accompany this admonition: “Seek not for riches but for wisdom; and, behold, the mysteries of God shall be unfolded unto you, and then shall you be made rich. Behold, he that hath eternal life is rich.” (D&C 11:7.)

Sadly though, some fall victim to greed when they think that the Lord and his church are failing them economically. Paul describes the result in his love-of-money passage: “They have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows.” (1 Tim. 6:10.)

A modern-day account illustrates what some have called the “gospel of prosperity.” One couple, when they joined the Church, were enthusiastic about the gospel and Church service. But after two and a half years, they left the Church. They could never shake the idea that they ought to receive something for everything they did. The spirituality and joy they initially felt were soured by their expectations of material rewards.

We ought to have faith that the Lord will bless us for our efforts, but we must not hand him a “shopping list” of the blessings we expect to receive. Our greed begins when we think more about what God owes us than what we owe him. The Lord has promised the faithful the “riches of eternity.” We should be content with that promise and serve for the joy of serving.

Some Cures for Greed
Fortunately, the Lord has not left us helpless in a world that promotes the philosophy that we can have anything we want for money. Not only has he described the symptoms of greed clearly in the scriptures (see Prov. 15:27; Luke 12:15; Mosiah 4:21–25; D&C 104:4), he has also given us instructions on how to prevent greed or overcome it. Just as greed can undermine our allegiance to gospel principles, our allegiance to gospel principles can fortify us against greed.

One cure mentioned more than a hundred times in the standard works is giving to the poor. The ideal—no poor among us—was, in fact, achieved at least three times previous to our dispensation by people who unselfishly shared what they had. (See Acts 4:32–34; 4 Ne. 1:3; Moses 7:18.) One period in the Church during Alma’s time exemplifies how wonderfully greed can be stayed by giving:

“In their prosperous circumstances, they did not send away any who were naked, or that were hungry, or that were athirst, or that were sick, or that had not been nourished; and they did not set their hearts upon riches; therefore they were liberal to all, both old and young, both bond and free, both male and female, whether out of the church or in the church, having no respect to persons as to those who stood in need.” (Alma 1:30.)

Here, prosperity worked for the people instead of against them because they gave liberally and did not set their hearts on their possessions. If there is a “gospel of prosperity,” perhaps this is it.

Gratitude is also a wonderful cure for greed. As awareness of the gifts and love of God deepen within us, we begin to put our lives in eternal perspective. If we understand the Atonement of our Lord Jesus Christ, how can we possibly expect our good works to “earn” us more than what God has already given us? King Benjamin taught:

“If you should render all the thanks and praise which your whole soul has power to possess, to that God who has created you, and has kept and preserved you, and has caused that ye should rejoice, and has granted that ye should live in peace one with another—

“If ye should serve him who has created you from the beginning, and is preserving you from day to day, by lending you breath, that ye may live and move and do according to your own will, and even supporting you from one moment to another—I say, if ye should serve him with all your whole souls yet ye would be unprofitable servants.” (Mosiah 2:20–21.)

Perhaps the best preventive medicine is love of God and others—for charity does not envy, is not puffed up, and does not seek her own. The love of money may be the root of all evil, but “charity preventeth a multitude of sins.” (JST, 1 Pet. 4:8.) A person with the pure love of Christ wants to help, bless, and care for others rather than acquire material things to feed a self-centered attitude. Greed is an attitude we can change. We should be thankful that the Lord has given us the means by which we can overcome it.

Selfishness vs. Selflessness

Selfishness vs. Selflessness

BY ELDER WILLIAM R. BRADFORD

Of the First Quorum of the Seventy

Remarks delivered at a BYU Devotional Assembly, 27 October 1981

Selfishness vs. Selflessness

Throughout my life I have studied the scriptures and have sought spiritual guidance regarding our Eternal Father’s plan. I have developed a mental picture which I would like to share with you.

If the veil that covers our remembrance were somehow lifted, we would see ourselves in that glorious assembly where our Eternal Father presented to us the plan of salvation and exaltation. It must have been a most interesting time, and there probably were some anxious moments of intense emotion, anticipation, pondering, and discussion. Father was about his work, teaching us how to exercise our agency by unfolding truth to our understanding.

As these truths unfolded, there must have been many concerns on our part—questions about the creation of the earth; our leaving Father’s presence; our need for physical bodies; the veil; living by faith; symbolic ordinances; death and resurrection; conditions upon which our return to Father were based.

There must have been anxiety when we learned of the need to leave our Father and come to this earth through a veil of forgetfulness. We must have known that there would be opposition, choices to make, the possibility of mistakes and failure. If we forgot all, how would we know the right thing to do or how to do it?

It must have been a great comfort as Father made covenants with us to send one member of the Godhead to be a guide and companion—one with delegated power to communicate the truths of the plan to us, that by the power of spiritual communication we could make correct decisions and grow and mature after the nature of our Father, who is a God. We know this great counselor as the Holy Ghost.

A pattern began to unfold as the Father taught us. It must have been obvious that there would be many things that we could not do for ourselves.

We would not be able to provide for ourselves the physical bodies we would need to become like Father. And once given bodies, we would not have power during our infancy to sustain ourselves. Some would need to serve us by being our parents. It would not be possible for us to create, nor control after its creation, the world upon which we were to be placed. This world would have a delicate environment—its relationship to the sun, the need for rain and fertile soil to sustain life, the governing laws of gravity and electricity, the elements and their reaction with each other would all have to be assured for us. And since we would have no real power over these things, someone would have to control them for us.

We also learned that our physical bodies would be temporary and subject to weakness, disease, and finally death. If we were to return to Father with bodies like his, someone would have to do something for us to reunite our spirit and physical bodies after the pattern in which God our Father created us.

There were some other serious needs. It was clear to us that because of the influence of opposition we would make mistakes. Since Father taught us that these mistakes constituted sin, and that no sinful thing could return to his presence, we were faced with a dilemma. There would have to be a way to overcome these mistakes. Someone would have to intercede for our sins—a Redeemer. Who would it be?

A sense of calm and peace must have then come to us as the Father made covenants to give us a Redeemer who would have power to do all things for us that we could not do for ourselves. He would sustain the world in the laws by which it was to be governed. He would take upon himself our sins and die for us that we might live eternally. He would govern the truths taught us, that we might walk in light.

Opposed to that plan was Satan, who came before the Father and issued the most selfish of all statements ever spoken in the heavens: “Behold, here am I, send me, I will be thy son, and I will redeem all mankind, that one soul shall not be lost, and surely I will do it; wherefore give me thine honor.” (Moses 4:1.)

Then the most selfless of all service in the heavens or upon earth was offered as Christ, the “Beloved Son, which was … Beloved and Chosen from the beginning,” came before Father and said, “Thy will be done, and the glory be thine forever.” (Moses 4:2.)

By holy covenant between Father and his children, Jesus Christ was sent to serve us in all things—to do all things for us that we cannot do for ourselves.

The laws and covenants were clear to us. They required that we come to this earth to work through the natural processes of growth and maturing that will take us back to Father. We are to work through this process. The work is one of serving and being served. The pattern is clear.

Our eternal destiny is welded to our service to others. At the very foundation of our existence is interdependence upon one another. Happiness can be obtained only by establishing the proffer balance between serving and being served. We are social beings; we cannot live in happiness if we attempt to live alone. Self-imposed celibacy and isolationism are extreme expressions of selfishness and an unwillingness to serve or be served.

A mother serves by giving birth to a child and continues her service throughout the child’s life. For life to continue, the process must repeat itself. When one is serving, another is being served. Faith, love of God and fellowman, patriotism, and self-esteem all depend on how we practice serving and being served.

Perhaps this principle is best defined as selflessness—the giving of oneself both in serving others and in being served by others.

In infancy and childhood we are predominantly served. Our parents provide us with food, clothing, shelter, and they nourish our spirits with love and companionship. But the very act of acceptance is a returning of the gift to the giver. Parents find joy and comfort in the progress of the child—a joy which falters only when their service is rejected through disobedience. Their selflessness becomes its own reward and encourages them to keep giving of themselves despite the setbacks.

If the relationship we have built as children with our parents has had the proper balance of selflessness, we will have developed kinship ties that no physical separation can ever break. And when the time comes to seek for ourselves expanded experiences and companionships, we will maintain joy in the beautiful companionship with our parents that has been created.

Very often, as young adults move away from the home environment, they suffer a tremendous emotional shock. Suddenly the balance of service and being served is drastically altered. Friendships are new and unproven, and old relationships seem distant. We call this homesickness. It is a period of adjustment and growth, when parent-child relationships undergo a transformation and we become involved in teacher-student or employer-employee relationships. As these peer relationships are added to our kindred relationships, the need to understand the principles of selflessness becomes increasingly important.

In order to understand selflessness we must also understand its opposite, selfishness. Selfishness is closing the door on service to others, and refusing to allow others to serve us in love. At the same time, we attempt to serve ourselves or wrongly exact service from others.

In its simplest form, selfishness is the holding to one’s self that which he has power to righteously share. The greed or lust or wrongful intent soon creates men whose “hearts are not satisfied,” and who “obey not the truth, but have pleasure in unrighteousness.” These are they who “will not give [their] substance to the poor. … whose spirits are not contrite, and whose bellies are not satisfied, and whose hands are not stayed from laying hold upon other men’s goods, whose eyes are full of greediness, and who will not labor with [their] own hands!” (D&C 56:15–17.)

That which a man serves himself upon the platter of selfishness and greed may appease his mortal appetite, but it will leave him spiritually starved and malnourished.

There is no happiness in selfishness; it is a sin. Its product is misery and loneliness, and it alienates companions and develops enmity in human relationships.

Selfishness and greed, put into the heart of Cain by Satan, caused our first parents, Adam and Eve, to mourn before the Lord for him and his brethren. It was Cain’s selfishness that caused him to bind himself up to Satan and, to get gain, murder his brother Abel. Selfishness debased the children of Israel as they drank and played and corrupted themselves around the idol of the golden calf. And only selfishness could have induced Judas to betray the holy, selfless Lord.

Selfishness is the basic substance—the raw material, if you will—of almost all other sins that Satan has introduced upon the earth. Under his skillful management, this sin manifests itself in such a myriad of ways that virtually no one escapes its influence. Its magnetic tentacles stretch out and draw to itself every indulgence that can block the path to exaltation.

Greed, envy, covetousness, lust, rebellion, thievery, idleness, lying, hypocrisy, backsliding, immorality, infidelity, pride, arrogance, gluttony, and most other evils are the products of a selfish life. If we place sin in the sunlight, it will cast the shadow of selfishness.

As a thought precedes an act, so does selfishness precede sin. Immorality of every kind is founded in selfishness. Why else would a person commit an immoral act, if not to satisfy his own pleasure?

Selfishness breeds corruption as men scheme and bribe and take unfair advantage to satisfy their wants and obsessions. It becomes pride as men forsake things of eternal value, even marriage, family, and God, for supposed high position and fame.

Consider how many are unfaithful to one another—and to God—as they selfishly squander their lives and means on the evaporative pleasures of what the world holds out as fashionable.

Satan’s subtle use of selfishness causes parents to justify idling away countless hours before a television set, absorbing violence, sensuality, vulgarity, and the foolishness of the world, while their children (who are usually allowed to view the same things) are starving for affection and attention. Can such selfishness be condoned, or are they bringing condemnation upon themselves by not using this time to teach their children “the doctrine of repentance, faith in Christ the Son of the living God, and of baptism and the gift of the Holy Ghost by the laying on of the hands … to pray, and to walk uprightly before the Lord” (D&C 68:25, 28)?

Selfishness draws men into a spiritual vacuum where, absorbed in self service, they shut out all others.

Selfish idleness, with its “I’ll-do-it-later” attitude, keeps righteous work from being done. Since Satan has decreed to do all possible to stop righteous endeavor upon the earth, what better way than to cause men to procrastinate? Within the Church this is manifest in a failure to faithfully comply with callings. Home teaching goes unattended; tithes and offerings go unpaid. There is neglect in keeping personal histories, compiling family records, and doing temple work. There is an unwillingness to give service in the missionary effort. How it must please Satan to so influence those who could be the builders of God’s kingdom!

Of all influences that cause men to choose wrong, selfishness is undoubtedly the strongest. Where there is selfishness, the Spirit of the Lord is absent. Talents go unshared, the needs of the poor unfulfilled, the weak unstrengthened, the ignorant untaught, and the lost unrecovered.

Viewed in its true sense, selfishness is the absence of empathy and compassion. It is the abandonment of brotherhood, the rejection of, God’s plan, the isolation of ones soul. Just as selflessness can carry us to exaltation and eternal lives, so can selfishness lead us to destruction and eternal damnation.

Life too often seems a competition with others. We compete for companionship, for recognition, for possessions, for status, for money. And as we size one another up, we too often forget that our sanctification depends in part on our service to others.

We may be like the man who, came running to Jesus, asking, “What must I do to be saved?” Jesus explained to him the commandments he must live, and the man assured him that he had done all these things from his youth. Then the Savior told him he lacked but one thing. “Sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, take up the cross, and follow me.

“And he was sad at that saying, and went away grieved: for he had great possessions.” (Mark 10:17–22.)

Or are we like the widow who cast her two mites into the treasury? Jesus, seeing her, said to his disciples, “This poor widow hath cast more in, than all they which have cast into the treasury:

“For all they did cast in of their abundance; but she of her want did cast in all that she had, even all her living.” (Mark 12:43–44.)

If we would be truly happy, our acts must be acts of selflessness, turning sadness into joy, radiating kindness, and dispelling hypocrisy. Selflessness fosters love, confidence, and trust.


Indeed, those men and women who righteously share themselves, their talents, and their means in benevolent service to God and humankind, are blessed with freedom, growth, nearness to Divinity, and worthiness to have the companionship of the Spirit.

By selflessness we demonstrate our true relationship with the Savior. It is the one great virtue that binds together the family of God.

Meeting our Goliaths

The following is a talk given by President Thomas S Monson. This talk is full of wonderful examples of overcoming the challenges we face in life. President Monson shares five stones we can use to overcome. He also gives examples of Goliath type challenges that some face and how to overcome them. I hope the talk is helpful.

Meeting Your Goliath

BY PRESIDENT THOMAS S. MONSON

Second Counselor in the First Presidency

Meeting Your Goliath
Of all the battles that have been fought over many centuries in the area of the world known as the Holy Land, no single battle is better remembered than the one which occurred in the Valley of Elah during the year 1063 B.C. Along the mountains on one side, the feared armies of the Philistines were marshaled to march directly to the heart of Judah and the Jordan Valley. On the other side of the valley, King Saul had drawn up his armies in opposition.

Historians tell us that the opposing forces were about evenly matched in number and in skill. However, the Philistines had managed to keep secret their valued knowledge of smelting and fashioning iron into formidable weapons of war. The sound of hammers pounding upon anvils and the sight of smoke rising skyward from many bellows as the smiths went about the task of sharpening weapons and fashioning new ones must have struck fear into the hearts of Saul’s warriors, for even the most novice of soldiers would know the superiority of iron weapons to those of brass.

As often happened when armies faced each other, individual champions challenged others from the opposing forces to single combat. There was considerable precedent for this sort of fighting; and on more than one occasion, notably during the tenure of Samson as judge, battles had been decided by individual combat.

Now, however, the situation was reversed as far as Israel was concerned, and it was a Philistine who dared to challenge all others—a veritable giant of a man called Goliath of Gath. He wore heavy brass armor and a coat of mail. And the staff of his spear would stagger a strong man merely to lift, let alone hurl. His shield was the longest ever seen or heard of, and his sword a fearsome blade.

This champion from the Philistine camp stood and cried unto the armies of Israel: “Why are ye come out to set your battle in array? am not I a Philistine, and ye servants to Saul? choose you a man for you, and let him come down to me.” (1 Sam. 17:8.)

His challenge was that if he were overpowered by an Israelite warrior, then all the Philistines would become servants to the Israelites. On the other hand, if he were victorious, the Israelites would become their slaves. Goliath roared: “I defy the armies of Israel this day; give me a man, that we may fight together.” (1 Sam. 17:10.)

For forty days came the challenge, met only by fear and trembling. And all the men of Israel, when they saw the man Goliath, “fled from him, and were sore afraid.” (1 Sam. 17:24.)

There was one, however, who did not quake with fear nor run in alarm. Rather, he stiffened the spine of Israel’s soldiers by his piercing question of rebuke toward them: “Is there not a cause? … Let no man’s heart fail because of him; thy servant will go and fight with this Philistine.” (1 Sam. 17:19, 32.) David, the shepherd boy, had spoken. But he did not speak just as a shepherd boy. For the hands of the prophet Samuel had rested upon his head and anointed him; and the Spirit of the Lord had come upon him.

Saul said to David: “Thou art not able to go against this Philistine to fight with him: for thou art but a youth, and he a man of war from his youth.” (1 Sam. 17:33.) But David persevered; and bedecked with the armour of Saul, he prepared to meet the giant. Realizing his helplessness so garbed, David discarded the armor, took instead his staff in his hand, chose five smooth stones out of the brook, and put them in a shepherd’s bag; and with his sling in hand, he drew near to the Philistine.

All of us remember the shocked exclamation of Goliath: “Am I a dog, that thou comest to me with staves? … Come to me, and I will give thy flesh unto the fowls of the air, and to the beasts of the field.” (1 Sam. 17:43–44.)

Then David said: “Thou comest to me with a sword, and with a spear, and with a shield: but I come to thee in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied.

“This day will the Lord deliver thee into mine hand … that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel.

“And all this assembly shall know that the Lord saveth not with sword and spear: for the battle is the Lord’s, and he will give you into our hands.

“And it came to pass, when the Philistine arose, and came and drew nigh to meet David, that David hasted, and ran toward the army to meet the Philistine.

“And David put his hand in his bag, and took thence a stone, and slang it and smote the Philistine in the forehead, that the stone sunk into his forehead; and he fell upon his face to the earth.

So David prevailed over the Philistine with a sling and with a stone, and smote the Philistine, and slew him.” (1 Sam. 17:45–50.)

The battle had been fought. The victory had been won. David emerged a national hero, his destiny before him.

Some of us remember David as a shepherd boy divinely commissioned by the Lord through the prophet Samuel. Others of us know him as a mighty warrior, for doesn’t the record show the chant of the adoring women following his many victorious battles, “Saul has slain his thousands, and David his ten thousands”? (1 Sam. 18:7.) Or perhaps we look upon him as the inspired poet or as one of Israel’s greatest kings. Still others recall that he violated the laws of God and took Bathsheba, she who belonged to another. He even arranged the death of her husband Uriah. I like to think of David as the righteous lad who had the courage and the faith to face insurmountable odds when all others hesitated, and to redeem the name of Israel by facing that giant in his life—Goliath of Gath.

Well might we look carefully into our own lives and judge our courage, our faith. Is there a Goliath in your life? Is there one in mine? Does he stand squarely between you and your desired happiness? Your Goliath may not carry a sword or hurl a verbal challenge of insult that all may hear and force you to decision. He may not be ten feet tall, but he likely will appear equally as formidable, and his silent challenge may shame and embarrass.

One man’s Goliath may be the stranglehold of a cigarette or perhaps an unquenchable thirst for alcohol. To another, her Goliath may be an unruly tongue or a selfish streak which causes her to spurn the poor and the downtrodden. Envy, greed, fear, laziness, doubt, vice, pride, lust, selfishness, discouragement—all spell Goliath.

The giant you face will not diminish in size nor in power or strength by your vain hoping, wishing, or waiting for him to do so. Rather, he increases in power as his hold upon you tightens.

The poet truly describes this truth:

Vice is a monster of so frightful mein,
As to be hated needs but to be seen;
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
(Alexander Pope, “An Essay on Man,” l. 217.)

The battle for our souls is no less important that the battle fought by David. The enemy is no less formidable, the help of Almighty God no farther away. What will our action be? Like David of old, “our cause is just.” We have been placed upon earth not to fail or fall victim to temptation’s snare, but rather to succeed. Our giant, our Goliath, must be conquered.

David went to the brook and carefully selected five smooth stones with which he might meet his enemy. He was deliberate in his selection, for there could be no turning back, no second chance—this battle was to be decisive.

Just as David went to the brook, well might we go to our source of supply—the Lord. What polished stones will you select to defeat the Goliath that is robbing you of your happiness by smothering your opportunities? May I offer suggestions.

The stone of COURAGE will be essential to your victory. As we survey the challenges of life, that which is easy is rarely right. In fact, the course that we should properly follow appears at times impossible, impenetrable, hopeless.

Such did the way appear to Laman and Lemuel. When they looked upon their assignment to go unto the house of Laban and seek the records according to God’s command, they murmured, saying it was a hard thing that was required of them. Thus, a lack of courage took from them their opportunity, and it was given to courageous Nephi, who responded, “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.” (1 Ne. 3:7.) The stone of courage is needed.

Next, I select the stone of EFFORT—mental effort and physical effort.

The heights by great men reached and kept
Were not attained by sudden flight,
But they, while their companions slept,
Were toiling upward in the night.
(Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, “The Ladder of St. Augustine.”)

The decision to overcome a fault or correct a weakness is an actual step in the process of doing so. “Thrust in thy sickle with thy might” was not spoken of missionary work alone.

Then there must be in our selection the stone of HUMILITY, for haven’t we been told through divine revelation that when we are humble, the Lord, our God, will lead us by the hand and give us answer to our prayers?

And who would go forth to battle his Goliath without the stone of PRAYER, remembering that the recognition of a power higher than oneself is in no way debasing; rather, it exalts.

Finally, let us choose the stone of LOVE OF DUTY. Duty is not merely to do the thing we ought to do, but to do it when we should, whether we like it or not.

Armed with this selection of five polished stones to be propelled by the mighty sling of faith, we need then but take the staff of virtue to steady us, and we are ready to meet the giant Goliath, wherever, and whenever, and however we find him.

For the stone of COURAGE will melt the Goliath of fear. The stone of EFFORT will bring down the Goliath of indecision and procrastination. And the Goliaths of pride, of envy, of lack of self-respect will not stand before the power of the stones of HUMILITY, PRAYER, and DUTY.

Above all else, may we ever remember that we do not go forth alone to battle the Goliaths of our lives. As David declared to Israel, so might we echo the knowledge, “The battle is the Lord’s, and he will give [Goliath] into our hands.” (1 Sam. 17:47.)

But the battle must be fought. Victory cannot come by default. So it is in the battles of life. Life will never spread itself in an unobstructed view before us. We must anticipate the approaching forks and turnings in the road. We cannot hope to reach our desired journey’s end if we think aimlessly about whether to go east or west. We must make our decisions purposefully. Our most significant opportunities will be found in times of greatest difficulty.

The vast, uncharted expanse of the Atlantic Ocean stood as a Goliath between Christopher Columbus and the New World. The hearts of his comrades became faint, their courage dimmed, hopelessness engulfed them; but Columbus prevailed with his watchword, “Westward, ever Westward, sail on, sail on.” (See Joaquin Miller, “Columbus,” in Ralph Henry and Lucile Pannell, comps., My American Heritage, New York: Rand McNally and Company, 1949, pp. 153–154.)

Carthage Jail, an angry mob with painted faces, and certain death faced the Prophet Joseph Smith. But from the wellsprings of his abundant faith he calmly met the Goliath of death. “I am going like a lamb to the slaughter,” he had said over a month earlier, “but I am calm as a summer’s morning. I have a conscience void of offense toward God and toward all men.” (History of the Church, 6:555.)

Gethsemane, Golgotha, intense pain and suffering beyond the comprehension of mortal man stood between Jesus the Master and victory over the grave. Yet he lovingly assured us, “I go to prepare a place for you … that where I am, there ye may be also.” (John 14:2–3.)

And what is the significance of these accounts? Had there been no ocean, there would have been no Columbus. No jail, no Joseph. No mob, no martyr. No cross, no Christ!

Should there be a Goliath in our lives, or a giant called by any other name, we need not “flee” or be “sore afraid” as we go up to battle against him. Rather we can find assurance and receive divine help from Him of whom David wrote in his inspired psalm: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. … Yea, though I walk through the valley of shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me.” (Ps. 23:1, 4.)

Victory will be ours.