Serving Others with the Pure Love of God

Luke wrote about a time when Jesus and some of his disciples walked about 30 miles, much of it uphill, from Capernaum to the little village of Nain. It appears that they may have traveled all night in order to get there in time for Jesus to meet a grieving widow at the burial procession for her only son. When he arrived, Jesus said to the grieving mother, “Weep not.” Then, to her dead son, Jesus said, “Young man, I say unto thee, Arise.” Luke recorded what happened next. “And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak. And [Jesus] delivered him to his mother.” (See Luke 7:11-16; The Widow of Nain (video); "B-Y-You Matter to Him, Keith Wilson, BYU Speeches, May 23, 2017.)

One thing about this story seems clear to me: Jesus was aware of this widow of Nain and of her distress. As a widow, she was financially dependent on her only son, who had now passed away, leaving her with the dismal prospect of being alone and destitute. But Jesus saw her. He knew her and her troubles. He had compassion on her and came to minister to her in her time of great need.

Have you experienced a time when you felt troubled, burdened or distressed and you learned from personal experience that the Lord saw you, knew you, had compassion on you, and was there to minister to you in your own time of need?

Many of us have had this kind of sacred personal, loving interaction with the Savior. Such experiences often come when our hearts are broken and our spirits are contrite, as we learn to come unto Christ, look unto him in every thought, and yield our hearts unto him. 

I know from personal experience that this kind of loving interaction with the Savior often happens as we seek to serve one another with the pure love of God.

For example, once, about ten years ago, I was going through a difficult time in my life. I was being stretched in my work, my church calling, and my family responsibilities, and I had developed a health condition that my doctor wasn’t able to explain. I was getting small sores all over my arms, stomach and legs. The sores itched and hurt, and when I scratched them, they bled. I remember feeling conflicted when I chose not to fulfill a temple assignment because I was afraid my sores would bleed and get blood on my white temple clothing. I went to my dermatologist for a series of tests, but it seemed like it was taking forever to get a diagnosis. I began searching for remedies, for anything that might help, but always without success. The hardest part for me was the uncertainty of not knowing what I was dealing with and not knowing whether or when my suffering might end.

After a couple of months of uncertainty and struggle, one Saturday afternoon our doorbell rang. I went to the door, and there stood a brother with whom I was serving as a counselor. This kind brother, who was my high priests quorum president, knew about my health concerns. He had come to bring us a nice dinner that his wife had prepared. I invited him into our home, and as we stood together talking, I was suddenly overcome with the knowledge, because of this act of service, that God was aware of me and knew of my suffering. I was aware of this couple’s love, but what affected me most profoundly was that I could feel the pure love of God flowing through them to me. The Spirit they brought confirmed to my spirit that God saw me, knew me and my sufferings, and had compassion on me. I was assured that I was not alone. I knew I would be okay. The dinner this couple brought was nourishing to my body, but the love of God that sent them to me, and that they brought with them to me, nourished my whole soul.

The Lord invites each of us to learn to serve as he does—with love that is pure. He wants us to learn to see and know others deeply and to have compassion on them as he does. (See Doctrine and Covenants 76:94.)

One such invitation from the Savior came in a poignant moment when Jesus was suffering on the cross for the sins of all mankind. Jesus looked down from the cross upon his mother and upon his disciple, John. The scriptural account recorded by John himself, speaking in third person, states:

“When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, Woman, behold thy son!

“Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy mother! And from that hour that disciple took her unto his own home.”

(John 19:26-27.)

Thus we see that, even in this moment of his own profound distress, Jesus saw John and his mother. He knew them and what they were going through and what they were facing. He had compassion on them, and particularly on his mother. What did he say to them? “Woman, behold thy son!” and to John, “Behold thy mother!” Jesus wanted them to see each other deeply, as he did, and he wanted them to have compassion on one another. In particular, Jesus wanted John to be a “son” to his mother. He clearly wanted his own mother to know, like the grieving widow of Nain, that she was cared for and that her needs would be met.

Michelle D. Craig recently spoke about the need each of us has to be seen and known as God sees and knows us. She quoted columnist David Brooks, who said:

“‘Many of our society’s great problems flow from people not feeling seen and known….  [There is a] core … trait that we all have to get … better at[, and that] is the trait of seeing each other deeply and being deeply seen.’”

Sister Craig, went on to say:

“Jesus Christ sees people deeply. He sees individuals, their needs, and who they can become. Where others saw fishermen, sinners, or publicans, Jesus saw disciples; where others saw a man possessed by devils, Jesus looked past the outward distress, acknowledged the man, and healed him.

“Even in our busy lives, we can follow the example of Jesus and see individuals—their needs, their faith, their struggle, and who they can become.”

("Eyes to See," Michelle D. Craig, First Counselor in the Young Women General Presidency, October 2020 General Conference.)

We are all somewhere in the process of learning how to serve others with the pure love of God. Sometimes we get to experience what it is like to see others deeply as God does and to feel and share the love that God has for them. Other times we might experience what it is like to serve others when our focus is more on ourselves than on those we are serving. All of these experiences are potential learning and growing experiences for us.

For example, when I was young, I served as a missionary in the Netherlands. About 16 months into my two-year mission, I was assigned to serve as the mission office secretary for about six months. Toward the end of that assignment, when I was getting ready to become a full-time proselyting missionary again, I overheard my mission president telling another office missionary, “Elder Wiggins will be a great missionary. Elder Wiggins really loves the people.”

That last sentence stopped me in my tracks. I asked myself, “Do I? Do I really love the people?” The Lord’s Spirit witnessed to my spirit that there was a clear gap between the love with which I had been serving and the kind of love my mission president was talking about. I knew I had tried to be a faithful and devoted missionary. I had tried to serve dutifully and obediently. But I saw that I still had much to learn then (and I still do now) about losing myself in serving others with the pure love of Christ.

As I think about this now, I can see that whenever I serve in order to do my duty and to be obedient, my focus is on me and my duty and my obedience—on my being good. Doing so is not a bad thing. It just limits my ability to see and know others as deeply as God does, which also limits my ability to be a conduit for the pure love of God.

About 15 years ago I had an experience that showed me what a profound difference it can make when I do and do not seek to serve others with the pure love of Christ.

At that time, I was assigned to minister to a man in my ward who was battling alcoholism. For a while I visited him regularly and we had what I thought were very positive visits. But there came a time when he suddenly started keeping an outer gate to his home locked. This meant I couldn’t get in to the front door. He also never answered his phone. So I started leaving notes for him, wedging them into the latch on the door to the outer gate. I would go by at least once a month, hoping the gate would be unlocked, but it never was, and so I would leave him yet another note and would encourage him to reach out to me. I don’t remember how many months this went on, but in hindsight it was far too long.

Then one day I felt a deeper concern for this man. I thought about his situation and began to see him more deeply. He was an alcoholic, and it hit me that he was probably keeping his gate locked because he was having a relapse with his drinking and was embarrassed and ashamed. My heart went out to him. I remember kneeling that morning in my bedroom and pleading with the Lord to know what I could do to help him.

That afternoon, that very same day, I received a phone call from this man. I could tell he was in deep distress. He had hit rock bottom and borrowed someone’s phone to call and ask me for support. My heart broke, and I felt deep compassion for him. It was painful to know how much physical and emotional suffering this man had been undergoing as I was going about my life obliviously leaving him my occasional notes.

Thus began a long period when he and I spent a lot of time together. I attended meetings with him at Alcoholics Anonymous and our church’s addiction recovery program. He didn’t have a car, so we spent a lot of time talking in my car, as well as in his home and in my home. I am still touched by the fact that each time this man—my friend—earned a token at Alcoholics Anonymous for achieving a milestone for 30, 60 and 90 days and more of sobriety, he would bring home an extra token and give it to me.

I wish I had seen my friend more deeply sooner. I wish I had thought sooner to plead with Heavenly Father to know what I could do for him. It would be a natural reaction to choose to beat myself up for failing to serve him better. But the Lord soon showed me that even my meager, dutiful efforts to serve my friend had been meaningful and worthwhile. When my friend invited me back into his home, I was surprised to see on his kitchen table a stack of many of the notes I had left for him over those months at his locked gate. The Spirit confirmed to me that my small service had been accepted, blessed and magnified by the Lord. And I also came to recognize and appreciate that it was the Spirit of the Lord that pricked my heart to wake me up to the urgency of my friend's situation and cause me to turn to God for direction.

I know that our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love us. They see us and know us deeply. They have compassion on us and minister to us. As we turn to them and pray to know how we can serve one another with that same pure love, God will answer us. He will teach us. He will mentor us. And he will accept and sanctify even our most meager efforts to serve.