Believe. What a powerful word, especially at this time of year when we turn our hearts to the Savior of the World in celebration of the advent of his miraculous life. We sing Noel and Hallelujah in praise of Him whose birth we remember. We eat candy canes and remember the Good Shepherd's purity and the bloody stripes He endured for us. We put a star upon evergreen trees and remember the immortal and eternal light that points us to our heavenly home. We give and receive presents and open up our hearts, seeking to emulate the charity that He so abundantly possessed and shared through every word and deed. My purpose here is not to enumerate and explain all of the symbolic Christmas representations of Christ and of our love and devotion to Him. Rather, my hope is to take a few minutes to explain my faith and belief in Him and in His gospel.
Dr. Henry Eyring was one of the leading scientists of the 20th Century in the field of chemistry. His work with the transition state of chemical reactions led him to some of the most important developments of 20th century chemistry. I will not profess to understand the smallest portion of his findings… in fact, I received my lowest grade for an engineering core class in Chem105 at BYU. So anyone who can actually understand that gibberish already earns my respect. Dr. Eyring earned a great deal of respect from other, more notable sources. It is felt that, if the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences had fully understood his theory at the time, he would have certainly been the recipient of a Nobel Prize.
There are some who feel that Dr. Eyring was not given that honor because of his religion. Now, these claims are unsubstantiated and may not have any truth, but Dr. Eyring’s faith was integrally tied to his scientific understanding. On many occasions, both private and in national public settings, Dr. Eyring sought to share how his faith and his scientific knowledge together led him to a greater understanding of the world around him. Whenever he found conflicts between the two, he sought to reconcile these through a careful study of science and a careful study of the scriptures.
Dr. Eyring stated, "Is there any conflict between science and religion? There is no conflict in the mind of God, but often there is conflict in the minds of men."
When I studied the New Testament at BYU with Stephen Robinson, my favorite quote from the professor concerned this very subject. After sharing one of Christ’s miracles that showed His power over the elements and over time itself, Steven Robinson said, “Whenever two people are arguing over science and religion, more than one of them is an idiot!”
Now, Dr. Eyring did not seek to prove the creation or the existence of God. He did not attempt to prove his faith to anyone on a scholarly level. He did, however, write a book that showed some of the scientific parallels and conclusions that helped support his belief in God and helped to show how his scientific and religious beliefs could coincide and lead him to greater light and knowledge than either could have alone. His book was titled, The Faith of a Scientist. I’ve only read portions of this book, but I’ve always been inspired by the book’s title. I’ve often thought about my own faith and how my academic studies have either supported or led me to question my faith. As an engineer, I have learned a fair amount about technology that is built upon fundamental laws of nature and science. Currently, I am more of a programmer than an engineer, but since my diploma identifies me as an engineer, I will claim that title here. And as I attempt to explain my faith in Christ this Christ-mas, I will borrow from Dr. Eyring and entitle my thoughts “The Faith of an Engineer”, albeit an engineer who has a great deal of room to add to his modest knowledge of the scientific world and of religious truths.
In the Book of Mormon, we read the words of Alma, a prophet who was contending with a philosopher and an Anti-Christ named Korihor, who contended that there is no God and demanded proof of the Creator of all. Alma patiently questioned the man and, after being asked to provide a sign, Alma proclaimed, “Thou hast had signs enough; will ye tempt your God? Will ye say, Show unto me a sign, when ye have the testimony of all these thy brethren, and also all the holy prophets? The scriptures are laid before thee, yea, and all things denote there is a God; yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it, yea, and its motion, yea, and also all the planets which move in their regular form do witness that there is a Supreme Creator.”
This blunt proclamation sums up my faith as an engineer better than any other that I could compose myself. In my years of spiritual and secular study, I have found countless accounts testifying of a divine Creator, I have discovered his fingerprints all over the beautiful canvas of His creation, and I can see His intricately ordered patterns throughout nature and the cosmos.
In high school Physics, I watched a documentary that took us on a journey away from Earth to the outer reaches of our universe, or at least as far as we then understood our galaxy to extend. A narrator accompanied us on our expedition, and we learned about solar systems, black holes, gravitational pulls, solar flares, orbits, and more. On the return trip, we overshot our landing in a park and zoomed in on the right hand of a picnicker. As we zoomed past hair follicles, skin cells, blood vessels, atoms, ions, and quarks, the narrator explained what we were seeing as he had in our extraterrestrial voyage. When we finally returned to our proper frame and size, I was left reeling with a sense of nothingness in the vastness of cosmic creation but also a sense of wonder at the detail and order that went into the construction of one simple form of life in the immenseness of the universe. Even after this incredible journey of discovery, I had little desire to become a molecular biologist or an astrophysicist. But I still remember to this day the strong sense of conviction that settled over me that there must be a Creator who set this all in motion, and I’ve been looking for his fingerprints in my scientific studies ever since.
There are those who claim that life began in a swampy pool or that miniscule particles, accelerating at incredible speeds, collided and released such massive quantities of energy that life, the universe, and everything was officially able to begin. I dare not throw in my hat with Dr. Eyring and hold a scholarly discussion with any man on such topics. After all, for good reason, I am an engineer and not a scientist. But when I think about one of these theories, the Big Bang Theory, I focus on the term “Bang”. When I think of an explosion, I envision chaos, disorder, and destruction. Again, I don’t dare to defend or attack these theories, but I do know that life, as I understand it, is all about patterns and structure, order, and construction which are the antonyms of those ideas that come to mind with the word “Bang”. However it was accomplished, the faith of this engineer is that there is a glorious plan behind creation and that there was indeed some Creator involved in setting everything in motion.
I can best summarize my feelings in this matter by borrowing from Spencer W. Kimball’s powerful dissertation on Absolute Truth. He asserted:
In junior high Algebra, I learned a formula called the Quadratic Equation. My teacher taught us to remember this by singing the following to the tune of Pop Goes the Weasel:
Dr. Henry Eyring was one of the leading scientists of the 20th Century in the field of chemistry. His work with the transition state of chemical reactions led him to some of the most important developments of 20th century chemistry. I will not profess to understand the smallest portion of his findings… in fact, I received my lowest grade for an engineering core class in Chem105 at BYU. So anyone who can actually understand that gibberish already earns my respect. Dr. Eyring earned a great deal of respect from other, more notable sources. It is felt that, if the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences had fully understood his theory at the time, he would have certainly been the recipient of a Nobel Prize.
There are some who feel that Dr. Eyring was not given that honor because of his religion. Now, these claims are unsubstantiated and may not have any truth, but Dr. Eyring’s faith was integrally tied to his scientific understanding. On many occasions, both private and in national public settings, Dr. Eyring sought to share how his faith and his scientific knowledge together led him to a greater understanding of the world around him. Whenever he found conflicts between the two, he sought to reconcile these through a careful study of science and a careful study of the scriptures.
Dr. Eyring stated, "Is there any conflict between science and religion? There is no conflict in the mind of God, but often there is conflict in the minds of men."When I studied the New Testament at BYU with Stephen Robinson, my favorite quote from the professor concerned this very subject. After sharing one of Christ’s miracles that showed His power over the elements and over time itself, Steven Robinson said, “Whenever two people are arguing over science and religion, more than one of them is an idiot!”
Now, Dr. Eyring did not seek to prove the creation or the existence of God. He did not attempt to prove his faith to anyone on a scholarly level. He did, however, write a book that showed some of the scientific parallels and conclusions that helped support his belief in God and helped to show how his scientific and religious beliefs could coincide and lead him to greater light and knowledge than either could have alone. His book was titled, The Faith of a Scientist. I’ve only read portions of this book, but I’ve always been inspired by the book’s title. I’ve often thought about my own faith and how my academic studies have either supported or led me to question my faith. As an engineer, I have learned a fair amount about technology that is built upon fundamental laws of nature and science. Currently, I am more of a programmer than an engineer, but since my diploma identifies me as an engineer, I will claim that title here. And as I attempt to explain my faith in Christ this Christ-mas, I will borrow from Dr. Eyring and entitle my thoughts “The Faith of an Engineer”, albeit an engineer who has a great deal of room to add to his modest knowledge of the scientific world and of religious truths.
In the Book of Mormon, we read the words of Alma, a prophet who was contending with a philosopher and an Anti-Christ named Korihor, who contended that there is no God and demanded proof of the Creator of all. Alma patiently questioned the man and, after being asked to provide a sign, Alma proclaimed, “Thou hast had signs enough; will ye tempt your God? Will ye say, Show unto me a sign, when ye have the testimony of all these thy brethren, and also all the holy prophets? The scriptures are laid before thee, yea, and all things denote there is a God; yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it, yea, and its motion, yea, and also all the planets which move in their regular form do witness that there is a Supreme Creator.”
This blunt proclamation sums up my faith as an engineer better than any other that I could compose myself. In my years of spiritual and secular study, I have found countless accounts testifying of a divine Creator, I have discovered his fingerprints all over the beautiful canvas of His creation, and I can see His intricately ordered patterns throughout nature and the cosmos.
In high school Physics, I watched a documentary that took us on a journey away from Earth to the outer reaches of our universe, or at least as far as we then understood our galaxy to extend. A narrator accompanied us on our expedition, and we learned about solar systems, black holes, gravitational pulls, solar flares, orbits, and more. On the return trip, we overshot our landing in a park and zoomed in on the right hand of a picnicker. As we zoomed past hair follicles, skin cells, blood vessels, atoms, ions, and quarks, the narrator explained what we were seeing as he had in our extraterrestrial voyage. When we finally returned to our proper frame and size, I was left reeling with a sense of nothingness in the vastness of cosmic creation but also a sense of wonder at the detail and order that went into the construction of one simple form of life in the immenseness of the universe. Even after this incredible journey of discovery, I had little desire to become a molecular biologist or an astrophysicist. But I still remember to this day the strong sense of conviction that settled over me that there must be a Creator who set this all in motion, and I’ve been looking for his fingerprints in my scientific studies ever since.There are those who claim that life began in a swampy pool or that miniscule particles, accelerating at incredible speeds, collided and released such massive quantities of energy that life, the universe, and everything was officially able to begin. I dare not throw in my hat with Dr. Eyring and hold a scholarly discussion with any man on such topics. After all, for good reason, I am an engineer and not a scientist. But when I think about one of these theories, the Big Bang Theory, I focus on the term “Bang”. When I think of an explosion, I envision chaos, disorder, and destruction. Again, I don’t dare to defend or attack these theories, but I do know that life, as I understand it, is all about patterns and structure, order, and construction which are the antonyms of those ideas that come to mind with the word “Bang”. However it was accomplished, the faith of this engineer is that there is a glorious plan behind creation and that there was indeed some Creator involved in setting everything in motion.
I can best summarize my feelings in this matter by borrowing from Spencer W. Kimball’s powerful dissertation on Absolute Truth. He asserted:
“The watchmaker in Switzerland, with materials at hand, made the watch that was found in the sand in a California desert. The people who found the watch had never been to Switzerland, nor seen the watchmaker, nor seen the watch made. The watchmaker still existed, no matter the extent of their ignorance or experience. If the watch had a tongue, it might even lie and say, ‘There is no watchmaker.’ That would not alter the truth.I can appreciate what President Kimball means when he says that men do not create truth but in fact discover it. My entire education can well be described as one discovery after another. I’m not talking about the kind of discovery where the scientist with the stringy, disheveled hair, the long white lab coat, and the thick German accent cries out “Eureka!” My second-hand (or one-millionth-hand) discoveries were all of a nature where I was able to finally understand how something works when I had, beforehand, had to accept that principal or theory on faith. Let me provide an example.“If men are really humble, they will realize that they discover, but do not create, truth. The Gods organized the earth of materials at hand, over which they had control and power. This truth is absolute. A million educated folk might speculate and determine in their minds that the earth came into being by chance. The truth remains. The earth was made by the Gods as was the watch by the watchmaker. Opinions do not change that."
In junior high Algebra, I learned a formula called the Quadratic Equation. My teacher taught us to remember this by singing the following to the tune of Pop Goes the Weasel:
x is equal to negative b
plus or minus the square root
of b squared minus 4ac
ALL over 2a
plus or minus the square root
of b squared minus 4ac
ALL over 2a
As I worked on those first homework assignments, I wasn’t sure why we were using this equation, where it came from, what a root was, or why eating Alpha-Bits cereal for breakfast didn’t give me Mighty Math Powers on Algebra test day. I did, however, get my homework answers to match those in the back of the textbook, and I did struggle to get that horribly catchy tune out of my head once we moved on to the next unit.
It wasn’t until years later, when I was working as an engineer and volunteering as a MathCounts coach at a local junior high, that I truly discovered the Quadratic Equation. I was helping one student on a problem that could easily be solved by completing the square, a mathematical trick I won’t endeavor to explain here. As we worked through the problem, a light bulb went on in my little brain, and I hypothesized that the Quadratic Equation was originally discovered through a similar process. As I drove home that afternoon, I drew variables and equations with my finger on my steering wheel and got from ax2+bx+c=0 to the infamous weasel-popping formula learned by Algebra students everywhere.
As a junior high student, I wasn’t equipped or prepared to understand all of the who’s, what’s, why’s, and how’s surrounding this mathematical construct. It was enough for me to learn when and how to use the formula. I didn’t need to recreate the formula from scratch and prove its validity. I trusted in McGraw-Hill, the textbook publisher, and the mathematician authors, and simply didn’t question the truthfulness or accuracy of the equation. Even when I rediscovered the formula years later, it wasn’t doubt in the accuracy of the formula that led me to finally prove the widely-used equation.
When I took Math 113 in college, Calculus 2, my professor had an interesting approach to teaching Calculus. At 8AM, as a college student, I had to drag myself out of bed and tape my eyelids open so as to survive the brutal hour of instruction that was to come. I collapsed into my seat in the lecture hall, pulled out my notepad and began to busily copy down those numbers, variables, and formulas that the professor was feverishly scrawling across the blackboard. He didn’t talk much. He mostly wrote. Throughout the lecture, if I tried to follow along in the book, I would hopelessly fall behind and miss some important step of the derivation being unveiled before us. So I learned to simply copy down what he wrote with the hopes of deciphering my notes later with the help of the Rosetta Stone. With a minute or two left before the end of the period, the professor’s progression of mathematical scribbles would inevitably arrive at an equation that I would recognize, one from the textbook, usually “Formula 1A”. In frustration, I would realize that the professor had spent 55 minutes deriving or proving the validity of the first formula we would be using in our homework assignment. In that entire lecture, I had not learned the purpose of the formula, how it was to be used, why the topic was pertinent to the section we were studying, or how these formulas might be applied in real-world applications. In disgust, I would close my notes and book and head to the library to read the textbook and begin to answer these questions. Over the course of that course, I had to teach myself Calculus. And when the semester ended, I was never more proud of an A in my whole life!
During this Calculus course, as with junior high Algebra, I was less concerned with the origin of formulas and equations as I was with the use of them. I found that through the using of mathematical formulas and principles, my faith and trust in them grew to a point where they were of value to me in my life, even when I knew not from where they had come.
As an engineer, I am less concerned about understanding exact principles of science than understanding how to manipulate and employ them for practical application. Scientists and engineers might butt heads over who is the smarter of the two. I’ll happily cede this distinction to the scientists. But I am happy to be numbered among the engineers who have helped to harness electric and magnetic fields to produce computers, mobile devices, cellular communications, and most of the modern technological devices that top Christmas lists for Santa each year.
Alma, the Book of Mormon prophet who defended his belief in a Creator to the Anti-Christ Korihor, gave a powerful sermon on faith. He used a seed as a metaphor for faith, claiming that faith begins simply as a desire to believe. Alma said,
There is a well-known expression that says that “Seeing is Believing.” The well-known counter to this claims that “Believing is Seeing.” I know many people whose belief shrinks as their vision expands. I think that Korihor would have found some logical explanation for any sign from the Creator he could have been shown in answer to his demand of Alma. Where I see signs around me daily that point toward a Supreme Creator in whom I entrust my faith, those Korihor’s of the world will only find ammunition that justifies their lack of faith. That is why I believe that Believing truly is Seeing. We must first have that desire to believe, and then we must act according to that desire.
Now I’ve deviated quite far from the Christmas theme of belief where I began. As a family, we have a Christmas Eve tradition of curling up on the couch in pajamas left by Mrs. Claus to watch a Christmas movie as we indulge in fudge, caramels, cookies, hot chocolate, wassail, and any other sugary treat we can get our hands on. This year, our movie was the Polar Express. This animated Christmas feature has surpassed Home Alone, A Christmas Story, and several others to be my all-time favorite. Every year I look forward to watching it.
The central theme to this story is one of belief in something that isn’t always seen. Now, as an engineer, I’ll not attempt to defend Santa Claus and the supposed 108 million homes he’s to visit in the 31 hours of Christmas that Santa has to work with thanks to time zones and the rotation of the earth. In fact, if I fall on board with most mainstream engineers, we would be talking about a sleigh capable of moving the required 650 miles per second (3,000 times the speed of sound) and, for comparison, the Ulysses space probe that clocks in at a relative snail’s pace of 27.4 miles per second. We’d be running tests on the land speed of arctic reindeer. We might be discussing the 500 thousand ton payload (assuming a 2 pound per child weight allotment) and the relative impact on air resistance, centrifugal forces, and energy absorption and the likelihood of sonic booms. The inevitable conclusion is that all of these factors would combine to create four million pounds of force pinning Mr. Kringle to the back of the sleigh and effectively reducing him to a quivering blob of pink goo. Therefore, most engineers would sadly concede that, if Santa did exist, he’s dead now.
But, as I watch the Polar Express each year, the logic of such calculated arguments falls on deaf ears as I join Hero Boy (as he is named in the credits) on a locomotive ride designed to restore my faith in those things that are not logical, in those truths that are not plainly seen, and in those hopes that I keep safely locked away deep in my heart.
The story begins with Hero Boy lying awake in his bed. “On Christmas Eve, many years ago, I lay quietly in my bed. I did not rustle the sheets. I breathed slowly and silently. I was listening for a sound I was afraid I'd never hear. The ringing bells of Santa's sleigh.”
As he lies there, he hears his father returning his distraught sister to her bed.
Remembering the ghost-like bum he had encountered earlier, the Hero Boy anxiously inquires,
In the excitement and the energetic prancing of the reindeer, one solitary sleigh bell breaks off the harness and lands at the feet of the boy. All other noise is tuned out and the boy focuses solely on the bell. He shakes it and still can’t hear the magical sound. Finally, he realizes that his faith must precede the confirmation he has so desperately been seeking. As the Book of Mormon prophet Mormon wrote, “Faith is things which are hoped for and not seen; wherefore, dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith.” The boy now understood this truth and finally let his doubts and fears go.
“Okay, okay. I believe… I believe.” He then shakes the bell one more time. This time, however, the magical, crystal clear ring reverberates loudly in his ears.
“What was that you said?” He looks up to see the magical man he had stubbornly doubted and yet fervently hoped for so strongly all night.
“I... I believe. I believe." The conviction grows in his voice as his faith begins to swell and enlargen. He feels enlightened. There, standing before him, is the reward for his trial of faith, an undeniable witness of the reality of Santa Claus. How satisfyingly delicious that reward must have been.
“I... I believe that this is yours.” He returns the bell to Santa but is in turn granted an opportunity to sit upon Saint Nicholas’ lap to ask for the first gift of Christmas. The boy doesn’t have to think hard and whispers his request into Santa’s ear. The kind man places the bell into the boy’s outstretched hand and then says, “This bell is a wonderful symbol of the spirit of Christmas... as am I. Just remember, the true spirit of Christmas lies in your heart. Merry Christmas.”
But the story is not finished. As the children board the train for the return trip, one shy little boy asks, “Could all...? Could all this be nothing but a dream?”
The hero boy resolutely declares, “No!”
The next morning, on Christmas morning, he shows the bell to his little sister. The parents, who have long since grown out of their childlike belief in Santa think the bell is broken. And in epilogue, the boy, who has now grown into a man but still maintains the Christmas faith of his childhood, exclaims, “At one time, most of my friends could hear the bell. But as years passed, it fell silent for all of them. Even Sarah found, one Christmas, that she could no longer hear its sweet sound. Though I've grown old the bell still rings for me, as it does for all who truly believe.”
Believing truly is seeing. Just ask the old man Simeon who was guided by the Spirit to the temple walls of Jerusalem where he encountered a couple and their newborn babe of eight days. This man was just and devout and anxiously awaited the coming of the Messiah along with the rest of his people. He had been told by the Holy Ghost that he would see his Savior and king before he was called to leave this life. As his body aged and withered, how often did he think on this heavenly promise. Did he have fears and doubts? Would you? This day, in front of the holy temple, Simeon took the babe in his arms and blessed God. “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word: For mine eyes have seen thy salvation, which thou hast prepared before the face of all people; a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel.” In his aged years, how acute was the eyesight of Simeon? The answer is unimportant as his spiritual eyes were a solid 20/20. Seeing is believing? Or is believing seeing? For Simeon, it was assuredly the latter.
One final family Christmas tradition that applies to the topic at hand involves Michael McLean’s Forgotten Carols. A tender and thought provoking story is told of a nurse for whom the bell stopped ringing long ago. For this woman, there was no magic in Christmas. There was also no family, trees or baked goods, or any of the typical joys of the holiday season. There was only work. Then she encountered John, a kindly old man requiring her care over the holidays. John welcomes Constance into his heart and tries to impart of his Christmas spirit by sharing the forgotten carols, those songs about the Savior’s life and birth that are not sung by choirs and carolers at Christmastime but have long been forgotten along with those individuals who first composed them. My favorite carol is sung by the shepherd boy who lay fast asleep when the angels came to herald the birth of the Christ child. This boy did not get to go to see the babe but, rather, had to hear the tale from his friends on the morn.
It wasn’t until years later, when I was working as an engineer and volunteering as a MathCounts coach at a local junior high, that I truly discovered the Quadratic Equation. I was helping one student on a problem that could easily be solved by completing the square, a mathematical trick I won’t endeavor to explain here. As we worked through the problem, a light bulb went on in my little brain, and I hypothesized that the Quadratic Equation was originally discovered through a similar process. As I drove home that afternoon, I drew variables and equations with my finger on my steering wheel and got from ax2+bx+c=0 to the infamous weasel-popping formula learned by Algebra students everywhere.
As a junior high student, I wasn’t equipped or prepared to understand all of the who’s, what’s, why’s, and how’s surrounding this mathematical construct. It was enough for me to learn when and how to use the formula. I didn’t need to recreate the formula from scratch and prove its validity. I trusted in McGraw-Hill, the textbook publisher, and the mathematician authors, and simply didn’t question the truthfulness or accuracy of the equation. Even when I rediscovered the formula years later, it wasn’t doubt in the accuracy of the formula that led me to finally prove the widely-used equation.
When I took Math 113 in college, Calculus 2, my professor had an interesting approach to teaching Calculus. At 8AM, as a college student, I had to drag myself out of bed and tape my eyelids open so as to survive the brutal hour of instruction that was to come. I collapsed into my seat in the lecture hall, pulled out my notepad and began to busily copy down those numbers, variables, and formulas that the professor was feverishly scrawling across the blackboard. He didn’t talk much. He mostly wrote. Throughout the lecture, if I tried to follow along in the book, I would hopelessly fall behind and miss some important step of the derivation being unveiled before us. So I learned to simply copy down what he wrote with the hopes of deciphering my notes later with the help of the Rosetta Stone. With a minute or two left before the end of the period, the professor’s progression of mathematical scribbles would inevitably arrive at an equation that I would recognize, one from the textbook, usually “Formula 1A”. In frustration, I would realize that the professor had spent 55 minutes deriving or proving the validity of the first formula we would be using in our homework assignment. In that entire lecture, I had not learned the purpose of the formula, how it was to be used, why the topic was pertinent to the section we were studying, or how these formulas might be applied in real-world applications. In disgust, I would close my notes and book and head to the library to read the textbook and begin to answer these questions. Over the course of that course, I had to teach myself Calculus. And when the semester ended, I was never more proud of an A in my whole life!During this Calculus course, as with junior high Algebra, I was less concerned with the origin of formulas and equations as I was with the use of them. I found that through the using of mathematical formulas and principles, my faith and trust in them grew to a point where they were of value to me in my life, even when I knew not from where they had come.
As an engineer, I am less concerned about understanding exact principles of science than understanding how to manipulate and employ them for practical application. Scientists and engineers might butt heads over who is the smarter of the two. I’ll happily cede this distinction to the scientists. But I am happy to be numbered among the engineers who have helped to harness electric and magnetic fields to produce computers, mobile devices, cellular communications, and most of the modern technological devices that top Christmas lists for Santa each year.
Alma, the Book of Mormon prophet who defended his belief in a Creator to the Anti-Christ Korihor, gave a powerful sermon on faith. He used a seed as a metaphor for faith, claiming that faith begins simply as a desire to believe. Alma said,
“Now, we will compare the word unto a seed. Now, if ye give place, that a seed may be planted in your heart, behold, if it be a true seed, or a good seed, if ye do not cast it out by your unbelief, that ye will resist the Spirit of the Lord, behold, it will begin to swell within your breasts; and when you feel these swelling motions, ye will begin to say within yourselves—It must needs be that this is a good seed, or that the word is good, for it beginneth to enlarge my soul; yea, it beginneth to enlighten my understanding, yea, it beginneth to be delicious to me.”There is truth out there. As an engineer, every project I worked on was a series of experiments and failures, tests and trials, and endless sessions of debugging and refining. My goal was to get something to work. I could take all the time in the world to study the principles and theories and to speculate on whether they would work as expected. But an engineering design remains a design unless tested, implemented, and refined. Sometimes, for me, the planting of a seed was a big risk. And sometimes it was not a good seed and did not sprout. But I would never know until I actually planted the seed. The faith of this engineer is that I must experiment upon the word. And I have learned to recognize a good seed, because a good SEED is one that will always Swell, Enlargen, and Enlighten, and one that is truly Delicious.
There is a well-known expression that says that “Seeing is Believing.” The well-known counter to this claims that “Believing is Seeing.” I know many people whose belief shrinks as their vision expands. I think that Korihor would have found some logical explanation for any sign from the Creator he could have been shown in answer to his demand of Alma. Where I see signs around me daily that point toward a Supreme Creator in whom I entrust my faith, those Korihor’s of the world will only find ammunition that justifies their lack of faith. That is why I believe that Believing truly is Seeing. We must first have that desire to believe, and then we must act according to that desire.
Now I’ve deviated quite far from the Christmas theme of belief where I began. As a family, we have a Christmas Eve tradition of curling up on the couch in pajamas left by Mrs. Claus to watch a Christmas movie as we indulge in fudge, caramels, cookies, hot chocolate, wassail, and any other sugary treat we can get our hands on. This year, our movie was the Polar Express. This animated Christmas feature has surpassed Home Alone, A Christmas Story, and several others to be my all-time favorite. Every year I look forward to watching it.
The central theme to this story is one of belief in something that isn’t always seen. Now, as an engineer, I’ll not attempt to defend Santa Claus and the supposed 108 million homes he’s to visit in the 31 hours of Christmas that Santa has to work with thanks to time zones and the rotation of the earth. In fact, if I fall on board with most mainstream engineers, we would be talking about a sleigh capable of moving the required 650 miles per second (3,000 times the speed of sound) and, for comparison, the Ulysses space probe that clocks in at a relative snail’s pace of 27.4 miles per second. We’d be running tests on the land speed of arctic reindeer. We might be discussing the 500 thousand ton payload (assuming a 2 pound per child weight allotment) and the relative impact on air resistance, centrifugal forces, and energy absorption and the likelihood of sonic booms. The inevitable conclusion is that all of these factors would combine to create four million pounds of force pinning Mr. Kringle to the back of the sleigh and effectively reducing him to a quivering blob of pink goo. Therefore, most engineers would sadly concede that, if Santa did exist, he’s dead now.But, as I watch the Polar Express each year, the logic of such calculated arguments falls on deaf ears as I join Hero Boy (as he is named in the credits) on a locomotive ride designed to restore my faith in those things that are not logical, in those truths that are not plainly seen, and in those hopes that I keep safely locked away deep in my heart.
The story begins with Hero Boy lying awake in his bed. “On Christmas Eve, many years ago, I lay quietly in my bed. I did not rustle the sheets. I breathed slowly and silently. I was listening for a sound I was afraid I'd never hear. The ringing bells of Santa's sleigh.”
As he lies there, he hears his father returning his distraught sister to her bed.
Sarah: “He said Santa would have to fly faster than light to get to every house in one night. And to hold everyone's presents his sled would be bigger than an ocean liner.”When the house is quiet once more, the boy reaches for his encyclopedia and adds to his doubts by browsing the entries on reindeer and the North Pole. Suddenly the house begins to shake as if in an earthquake and an unbelievable train thunders to a stop outside on the snow-covered street. The train’s conductor steps down from a boxcar and hollers out:
Father: “Your brother said that? He was just kidding you. He knows there's a Santa.”
Sarah: “He said he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure if Santa was for real.”
Father: “Of course Santa is real. He's as real as Christmas itself.”
Conductor: “All aboard! All aboard! Well? You coming?”After boarding the train, making some new friends, enjoying some hot chocolate, and venturing out onto the top of one of the boxcars, Hero Boy runs into a mysterious drifter who is looking for a free ride on the roof of the train. The drifter asks him:
Boy: “Where?”
Conductor: “Why, to the North Pole, of course! This is the Polar Express.”
Boy: “The North Pole?”
Conductor: “Is this you?”
Boy: “Yeah.”
Conductor: “Well, it says here… no photo with a department-store Santa this year… no letter to Santa… and you made your sister put out the milk and cookies… Sounds to me like this is your crucial year. If I were you, I would think about climbing onboard.”
Drifter: “What exactly is your persuasion on the big man? Since you brought him up.”I don’t care who you are or what your personal belief system is. There is a little bit of this Hero Boy inside each and every one of us, and we resist the idea of blindly believing in something that we do not understand or something that we can’t see. Later on, the conductor is relating an experience that sparks a desire to believe within the Hero Boy’s heart and he struggles once more with the logic and doubts that have chased away his childlike Christmas faith. The conductor explains, “Years ago, on my first Christmas Eve run, I was up on the roof making my rounds when I slipped on the ice myself. I reached out for a hand iron, but it broke off. I slid and fell. And yet, I did not fall off this train.”
Boy: “Well, I... I want to believe. But...”
Drifter: “But you don't wanna be bamboozled. You don't wanna be led down the primrose path. You don't wanna be conned or duped… have the wool pulled over your eyes… Hoodwinked. You don't wanna be taken for a ride… railroaded… Seeing is believing. Am I right?”
Remembering the ghost-like bum he had encountered earlier, the Hero Boy anxiously inquires,
Boy: “Someone saved you?”Even after arriving at the North Pole and seeing toy workshops, elves, and reindeer, the Hero Boy is still striving to chase away lingering fears and doubt. Unlike his friends, he is unable to hear the sleigh bells echoing around the main square where the reindeer are being harnessed. His friend asks, “Aren’t those bells the most beautiful sound?” The crowd of children and elves erupts as Santa apparently enters the square. But the boy still can’t see him and still can’t bring himself to believe.
Conductor: “Or something.”
Boy: “An angel?”
Conductor: “Maybe.”
Boy: “Wait, wait! What did he look like? Did you see him?”
Conductor: “No, sir. But sometimes seeing is believing. And sometimes the most real things in the world are the things we can't see.”
Friend: “He's here! He's here!”
Boy: “Where?”
Friend: “I see him. He's over there.”
Boy: “I can't see him. I can't see him. I can't see him!”
Voice inside his head: “Doubter. Doubter!”
In the excitement and the energetic prancing of the reindeer, one solitary sleigh bell breaks off the harness and lands at the feet of the boy. All other noise is tuned out and the boy focuses solely on the bell. He shakes it and still can’t hear the magical sound. Finally, he realizes that his faith must precede the confirmation he has so desperately been seeking. As the Book of Mormon prophet Mormon wrote, “Faith is things which are hoped for and not seen; wherefore, dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith.” The boy now understood this truth and finally let his doubts and fears go.“Okay, okay. I believe… I believe.” He then shakes the bell one more time. This time, however, the magical, crystal clear ring reverberates loudly in his ears.
“What was that you said?” He looks up to see the magical man he had stubbornly doubted and yet fervently hoped for so strongly all night.
“I... I believe. I believe." The conviction grows in his voice as his faith begins to swell and enlargen. He feels enlightened. There, standing before him, is the reward for his trial of faith, an undeniable witness of the reality of Santa Claus. How satisfyingly delicious that reward must have been.
“I... I believe that this is yours.” He returns the bell to Santa but is in turn granted an opportunity to sit upon Saint Nicholas’ lap to ask for the first gift of Christmas. The boy doesn’t have to think hard and whispers his request into Santa’s ear. The kind man places the bell into the boy’s outstretched hand and then says, “This bell is a wonderful symbol of the spirit of Christmas... as am I. Just remember, the true spirit of Christmas lies in your heart. Merry Christmas.”But the story is not finished. As the children board the train for the return trip, one shy little boy asks, “Could all...? Could all this be nothing but a dream?”
The hero boy resolutely declares, “No!”
The next morning, on Christmas morning, he shows the bell to his little sister. The parents, who have long since grown out of their childlike belief in Santa think the bell is broken. And in epilogue, the boy, who has now grown into a man but still maintains the Christmas faith of his childhood, exclaims, “At one time, most of my friends could hear the bell. But as years passed, it fell silent for all of them. Even Sarah found, one Christmas, that she could no longer hear its sweet sound. Though I've grown old the bell still rings for me, as it does for all who truly believe.”
Believing truly is seeing. Just ask the old man Simeon who was guided by the Spirit to the temple walls of Jerusalem where he encountered a couple and their newborn babe of eight days. This man was just and devout and anxiously awaited the coming of the Messiah along with the rest of his people. He had been told by the Holy Ghost that he would see his Savior and king before he was called to leave this life. As his body aged and withered, how often did he think on this heavenly promise. Did he have fears and doubts? Would you? This day, in front of the holy temple, Simeon took the babe in his arms and blessed God. “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word: For mine eyes have seen thy salvation, which thou hast prepared before the face of all people; a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel.” In his aged years, how acute was the eyesight of Simeon? The answer is unimportant as his spiritual eyes were a solid 20/20. Seeing is believing? Or is believing seeing? For Simeon, it was assuredly the latter.One final family Christmas tradition that applies to the topic at hand involves Michael McLean’s Forgotten Carols. A tender and thought provoking story is told of a nurse for whom the bell stopped ringing long ago. For this woman, there was no magic in Christmas. There was also no family, trees or baked goods, or any of the typical joys of the holiday season. There was only work. Then she encountered John, a kindly old man requiring her care over the holidays. John welcomes Constance into his heart and tries to impart of his Christmas spirit by sharing the forgotten carols, those songs about the Savior’s life and birth that are not sung by choirs and carolers at Christmastime but have long been forgotten along with those individuals who first composed them. My favorite carol is sung by the shepherd boy who lay fast asleep when the angels came to herald the birth of the Christ child. This boy did not get to go to see the babe but, rather, had to hear the tale from his friends on the morn.
The flock was more than peaceful; the night was dark and deep;
The stillness wrapped around me; I drifted off to sleep.
And when my friends awoke me—Oh, what a tale they had to tell
They said the angels told them about a newborn King.
They had a star to guide them; they heard the heavens sing.
They said that when they found Him they knew they'd never be the same.
Somehow I did believe them, though everything I knew
Said I should not believe them; This story can't be true.
But there was something magic in the air that made me feel as if I’d been there.
I asked a thousand questions; their answers startled me.
The more I heard, the more I thought I knew this cannot be.
And then the struggle started, my head was wrestling with my heart.
Why would a God from Heaven come to the world this way?
Why in a lowly stable would the Messiah lay?
I shook my head and asked them to tell the story one more time.
Yes I did believe them, though I'd not seen a thing.
I did not go to Bethlehem or hear the angels sing.
But there was something magic in the air that made me feel as if I’d been there.
I knew that, as the world moves on through time,
There would be more stories just like mine
About the souls who've chosen to believe in something that they never got to see.
So do you think you'll join us, though you've not seen a thing?
You were not there in Bethlehem to hear the angels sing.
But if you feel the spirit in the air, then just like me you'd know
That He was here! He was here! The King of kings and Lord of lords was here!
He was here! He was here! And He will come again, for He was here!
The stillness wrapped around me; I drifted off to sleep.
And when my friends awoke me—Oh, what a tale they had to tell
They said the angels told them about a newborn King.
They had a star to guide them; they heard the heavens sing.
They said that when they found Him they knew they'd never be the same.
Somehow I did believe them, though everything I knew
Said I should not believe them; This story can't be true.
But there was something magic in the air that made me feel as if I’d been there.
I asked a thousand questions; their answers startled me.
The more I heard, the more I thought I knew this cannot be.
And then the struggle started, my head was wrestling with my heart.
Why would a God from Heaven come to the world this way?
Why in a lowly stable would the Messiah lay?
I shook my head and asked them to tell the story one more time.
Yes I did believe them, though I'd not seen a thing.
I did not go to Bethlehem or hear the angels sing.
But there was something magic in the air that made me feel as if I’d been there.
I knew that, as the world moves on through time,
There would be more stories just like mine
About the souls who've chosen to believe in something that they never got to see.
So do you think you'll join us, though you've not seen a thing?
You were not there in Bethlehem to hear the angels sing.
But if you feel the spirit in the air, then just like me you'd know
That He was here! He was here! The King of kings and Lord of lords was here!
He was here! He was here! And He will come again, for He was here!
There is no difference between this shepherd boy and me. I’ve not seen a thing. I was not there in Bethlehem to hear the angels sing. I am like Simeon. I have been given special promises, and I must exercise lasting faith to believe that the Lord will follow through in His time and in His way. I am like the Hero Boy from The Polar Express. I don’t want to be bamboozled, conned, or duped. I don't want to be led down the primrose path. I don't want to be taken for a ride… railroaded. My fears and doubts are many. But there is a large part of me that is ready and willing to believe. My desire is strong. And, daily, the faith of this engineer is tested and is then rewarded with witness after witness that there is indeed a loving Creator, one who carefully constructed me in my special frame and fashion, with all of my strengths and all of my weaknesses, and one who crafted an incredible world for me where I can learn and grow to be more like a child, more like my Savior, and more like my Father in Heaven. Those signs are easy to see. But like Simeon, I can’t rely on my aged eyes that may be tinted with the lenses of secular skepticism and logical fallacies. It is through spiritual sunglasses that I can discern those fingerprints of the Creator all around me. It is by believing that I truly see.
Trains move quickly
To their journey's end.
Destinations...
Are where we begin again.
Ships go sailing,
Far across the sea.
Trusting starlight,
To get where they need to be.
When it seems that we have lost our way...
We find ourselves again on Christmas Day.
Believe in what your heart is saying,
Hear the melody that's playing
There's no time to waste,
There so much to celebrate.
Believe in what you feel inside,
And give your dreams the wings to fly.
You have everything you need, if you just Believe.
To their journey's end.
Destinations...
Are where we begin again.
Ships go sailing,
Far across the sea.
Trusting starlight,
To get where they need to be.
When it seems that we have lost our way...
We find ourselves again on Christmas Day.
Believe in what your heart is saying,
Hear the melody that's playing
There's no time to waste,
There so much to celebrate.
Believe in what you feel inside,
And give your dreams the wings to fly.
You have everything you need, if you just Believe.
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