The following poem, by Orson F. Whitney, is a beautiful and clear presentation of the grand council in heaven, and the eventst that took place there. So great is the importance of this grand council, and the roles we played there, and how wonderful it is, as Latter-day Saints, to be blessed with such a clear understanding of that time long ago.
Elect of Elohim
Orson F Whitney
In solemn counsel sat the Gods
From Kolob’s height supreme
Celestial light blazed forth afar,
Over countless kokobeam.
And faintest tinge the fiery fringe
Of that resplendent day
Lumed the dark abysmal realm
Where earth in chaos lay.
“Father”, the voice like music fell
clear as the murmuring flow
of mountain streamlet trickling down
from heights of virgin snow
“Father”, it said “Since one must die
thy children to redeem
from worlds all formless now and void
where myriad life shall teem
and mighty Michael foremost fall
that mortal man may be
and chosen Savior yet must send
lo, here am I, send Me”.
“I ask, I seek no recompense,
save that which then were mine
Mine be the willing sacrifice
The endless glory thine.”
Still rang that voice, when sudden rose
Aloft a towering form
Proudly erect, as lowering peak
Loomed by the gathering storm
A presence bright and beautiful
With eye of flashing fire
With lips whose haughty curl bespoke
A sense of inward ire.
“Send Me”, it said, it’s courtly smile
And scarce concealed disdain
And none shall hence from heaven to earth
That shall not rise again.
My saving plan exemption scorns,
Mans will, nay, mine alone
As recompense I claim the right
To sit on yonder throne.
Ceased Lucifer, the breathless hush
Resumed and denser grew,
All eyes were turned the general gaze
One common magnet drew
A moment there was solemn pause,
While rolled from lips omnipotent
The Fathers firm decree.
Jehovah, my messenger son Ahman,
Thee I send
And one shall go thy face before
While twelve thy steps attend
And many more on that far shore
Thy pathway shall restore
That I the first the last may come
And earth My glory share
By arm divine, both mine and thine
The lost shalt thou restore
That man redeemd with God may be
As God forever more
On thee alone mans fate depends
The fate of beings all
Thou shalt not fail though thou art free
Free, but too great to fall.
Return and to the parent fold
This wandering planet bring
And earth shall hail thee conqueror
And heaven proclaim thee king
Twas done, from congregations vast
Tulmoltus murmurs rose
Waves of conflicting sound
As when two meeting seas oppose
Twas finished, but the heavens wept
And still their annals tell
How one was choice of Elohim
Over one who fighting fell.
P. S. This poem can be found in the book “The Holy Temple”, by Boyd K. Packer.