Stay On Course

This Christmas I call your attention to one of the “players” in the Nativity story. The one I'm thinking about never broke into song with the "multitude of the heavenly host," didn’t kneel alongside the shepherds by the infant Jesus, nor did it bring any treasured gifts like the wise men. In fact, the “player” I have in mind remained at a considerable distance from that special scene—even light years away.

I’m referring to the star of Bethlehem, and here's why: 

In an article written for the Christmas season many years ago, Elder Neal A. Maxwell noted that on the night of the Savior’s birth, God didn’t just wave His hand and make a brilliant star appear out of nowhere. Thousands of years earlier, that star had intentionally been placed in a specific trajectory. By staying on its pre-determined path, it appeared exactly in the right place at precisely the right time. 

Like that star, your “trajectory” through this earth life was pre-determined, including the time and place of your birth. You showed up where and when you did because, as Elder James E. Talmage wrote, "God . . . knows what each will do under given conditions . . . [He] has a full knowledge of the nature and disposition of each of His children, a knowledge gained by long observation and experience in the past eternity of our primeval childhood."

Before you left His presence you told Him that you would do here what you’d committed to Him there. Elder Orson Hyde suggested that we may have even agreed in writing to what we committed to do here, saying,

"We understood things better there than we do in this lower world . . . It is not impossible that we signed the articles thereof with our own hands -- which articles may be retained in the archives above, to be presented to us when we rise from the dead, and be judged out of our own mouths, according to that which is written in the books" (Journal of Discourses 7:314-315).

But here I must point out an important difference between you and the star of Bethlehem. The star didn't have agency to wander off course. But you do. God gave you agency as a test to see if you will use it to keep the commitments you agreed to before you were born.   

So -- are you like the star--staying true to the course you agreed upon? Are you showing up when and where you said you would? Sadly, there are some who, once they get here, become so distracted by the noises, amusements, and influences of the world that their God-given navigation system becomes jammed. This is no accident. A very real enemy desires that you stray off your appointed course and that you "do your own thing." He knows that, just like the star, you have the capacity to make a difference in the lives of others. Knowing this, he will try to convince you to take a detour, to seek pleasure without restrictions. The enemy is particularly effective at persuading many that the detour is, after all, only temporary and that you can always "jump back on the train" whenever you want.

There are others who get sidetracked and lose energy, feeling overwhelmed by life's trials and stresses and because they doubt whether they really have what it takes to "stay the course." Of these Elder Neal A. Maxwell said:

"When in situations of stress we wonder if there is any more in us to give, we can be comforted to know that God, who knows our capacity perfectly, placed us here to succeed. No one was foreordained to fail or to be wicked . . . Let us remember that we were measured before and we were found equal to our tasks . . . When we feel overwhelmed, let us recall the assurance that God will not overprogram us; he will not press upon us more than we can bear" (Doctrine & Covenants 50:40).

I like very much this counsel from Elder Marvin J. Ashton:

“What really matters is . . . an understanding of who we are and what we’re doing here, and an absolute determination to return home. What young musician, after years of agonizing rehearsal, finally scheduled to debut in a [filled to] capacity concert hall, would, while en route to the performance, stop to join a long line forming at the latest hit movie, forgetting the thousands of people waiting to hear her? What world class runner, after training for well over a decade, would find himself in the Olympic finals, only to stop running halfway through his race to watch the high-jump finals taking place on the other side of the field?

“These examples may seem preposterous—but how much more tragic it is for someone who, equipped with a testimony of the truth and a knowledge of the purpose of life, becomes more absorbed in life today than in life forever . . . more concerned about his or her status and standing in mortality than in eternity” (“A Yearning For Home,” Ensign, Nov. 1992).

Please - stay true to the course you agreed upon. Remember: You gave your word. Straying into the dark and alluring emporiums and arcades of the great and spacious building is not what any of us signed on for.

Stay on course. Be known for doing here what you said you would do there. I assure you that marvelous blessings and opportunities will come your way once God knows that you can be trusted to do what you said you would. Be true.

Seeking Common Ground Is Not Really Our Goal

Many voices today are accusing Latter-day Saints of not being Christians. So in an effort to counter these charges, some of us try to prove to our detractors that we are just as Christian as they are. And we do it by pointing to references in the Bible on which we can both agree. This is known as "seeking common ground"--and it will ultimately bear no real fruit. As Elder Bruce R. McConkie once taught, the Bible is not common ground. It's a battleground. That's because for every reference we might find to bolster our case, others will find a reference that makes the opposite claim. (Isn't that why there are so many "Christian" churches today?)

Missionaries will forever spin their wheels using this "common ground" approach until they realize that the only real power to change men's hearts and bring about conversion is found in testifying of the divine calling of the Prophet Joseph Smith, the Restoration of the Lord's true Church, and the Book of Mormon. I know from experience that this is true--the power is real.

Think about it. If all we do is come up with something in the Bible to prove that we're just like other Christians, what reason would anyone have to be interested in our Church? Our job is not to find common ground. We don't put our profiles on Mormon.org to show the world that Mormons are nice, normal people who believe in Jesus just like other Christians do. We are ultimately charged with bearing witness that there's been a restoration of Christ's Church through the Prophet Joseph Smith, including a restoration of priesthood authority, the presence of real living prophets, and new revelations that clarify Biblical teachings that have heretofore created confusion and contention.

Does this make our detractors uncomfortable? You bet. Jesus made people uncomfortable too. But when He did, He didn't say, "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to offend. Here -- let's find some common ground on which we can both agree." No, He proclaimed His message without apology, undiluted.

The quotes that follow were written by Joseph Fielding McConkie. I believe there is great wisdom here:

A woman called our home one evening to tell me that she was having a discussion with a nonmember neighbor—not an argument—and what she needed, she said, was a scriptural reference to prove that God has a body. I directed her to Doctrine and Covenants 130:22, which reads: "The Father has a body of flesh and bones as tangible as man's; the Son also; but the Holy Ghost has not a body of flesh and bones, but is a personage of Spirit. Were it not so, the Holy Ghost could not dwell in us." Surely that is as plain and to the point as language permits.

My caller immediately objected. "What I need," she said, "is a Bible passage."

Now, I happen to know that there are more than five hundred passages of scriptures in the Bible that can be used to argue that God has a body, but I also know that such an argument is fruitless. We read our Bible text and say, "See, there's the proof." But no one ever responds by saying, "Wow, I didn't know that! May I be baptized?" What they say is, "The scriptures you are reading were not intended to be understood literally. They are simply figurative representations of God. If you are going to accept everything in the Bible as being literal, then when it says God is 'the rock of our salvation' you must believe he is a rock; or when it says he will keep us under the shadow of his wings, you must believe God is a bird and has wings." The discussion gets silly very quickly, and the silliest thing about it is that we allow ourselves to be a part of it.

So I told my caller that the way we knew that God had a body was that He told us and that we had no better authority than that. We hadn't learned it from the Bible. With a tone of disappointment in her voice she said, "Well, thanks, anyway. I'll see if I can find someone else who can help me," and hung up.

. . . A young man came to my office one morning before class and told me that he just about had his nonmember roommate converted. "All I need," he said, "is a passage of scripture that proves that marriages are supposed to be eternal. Can you help me?" he asked.

"That's easy enough," I said. "We have God's word on the matter in Doctrine and Covenants 132."

"No, no," he interjected, "what I need is a Bible passage."

"We are not practicing eternal marriage because of any Bible text," I responded. "We do it because God commanded us to do so through a living prophet."

"You mean you don't know of any Bible text that proves it?" he asked, tension and anxiety ringing in his voice.

"I don't even know a Bible text that I can torture into saying such a thing," I replied.

He responded, "I'd better see if there isn't someone else who can help me," and left.

The perspective represented by these exchanges, which is not an uncommon one, is a matter of considerable concern. It ignores the fact that there has been a restoration of the gospel. It represents a retreat to the Protestant position that the Bible is the final word on all things. It makes us a part of the argument over the meaning of the Bible instead of the solution to that argument. It is a way of saying that dead prophets outrank living ones and that modern revelation can be accepted only if Bible texts prove it to be true. This perspective short-circuits the conversion process and effectually denies the reality of the First Vision. It turns a deaf ear to every revelation we have received since the spring of 1820.

. . . The Book of Mormon testifies that many of the plain and precious parts of the Bible were taken from it before it went forth to the nations of the earth (see 1 Nephi 13:23-29). We can hardly be true to the book if we argue that all its doctrines can be found in the Bible. Such arguments remind me of the occasion when a very enterprising student came into my office carrying a manuscript of impressive proportions. He placed it on my desk and said he was anxious to take it to a publisher but wanted me to review it for him first. He explained that it was a defense of Mormonism in which he had proved all our doctrines by the Bible.

I asked him to close the door and in hushed tones said, "We have to get rid of this as quickly as we can!" There was obvious alarm in his voice when he asked what I meant. I said, "Look, if you have proven all of our doctrines by the Bible, then there is no need for Joseph Smith and the revelations of the Restoration." I added, with some emphasis, "This thing could destroy everything we stand for!" He grabbed his manuscript and made a quick exit.

. . . Our commission is to bear witness of the restored gospel in all the world. Any time the adversary can get us to substitute something else for that message, the victory is his. It is not our purpose to convert people to programs, to activities, or to a Latter-day Saint culture. Nor can we modify the message the Lord gave us in an attempt to be more acceptable. To make such things the focus of our efforts is to lose sight of our destiny and purpose and will eventually cause us to lose our own way. . . We can go out under the guise of telling the world about family home evening, but Christ did not shed his blood on Calvary, nor Joseph and Hyrum Smith theirs in Carthage, so that we might take the family home evening manual to those of every nation, kindred, tongue, and people. As wonderful as that program is, it is powerless to remit sins or seal families for time and eternity . . .To properly present our message requires that we testify that Joseph Smith is the great prophet of the Restoration. There is power in such a testimony, and every effort is made by the adversary to keep us from bearing it. Perhaps his most effective ploy is the notion that we should not testify about Joseph Smith for fear that people will think we worship him instead of Christ. The idea is to emphasize our faith in Christ while avoiding reference to Joseph Smith.

. . . Recently my wife and I were invited to speak to a group of seminary students on the subject of preparing for missions. Before we spoke, two of their number, a young woman and a young man, were asked to bear a brief testimony, apparently without warning. Obviously, the hope in calling on them was to simulate the opportunity they would have as missionaries and to invite the Spirit into our meeting. Neither student handled the situation very appropriately, and the hoped-for end was not accomplished. Because of that, as I began my talk, I suggested to the students that if they were called on, as two of their peers had just been, they could assure themselves and those present of a positive spiritual experience by testifying that Joseph Smith is a prophet. I assured them that if they would do that, the Spirit would quicken their minds and let them know what they should say.

After the meeting, one of the teachers asked if he could speak with me privately for a moment. He asked delicately, "Would it not have been more appropriate to tell the students that when called on unexpectedly to speak, they should testify of Christ and then extend the promise of the sustaining support of the Spirit?" He seemed stunned when I answered, "No."

I went on to tell him that the fact that Christ is the foundation of our faith is beyond question, nor can the importance of his role as our Savior or Redeemer be overstated. Every principle of the gospel stems from his atoning sacrifice. We are saved through his grace, and without his saving labors in our behalf there would be no salvation. Such principles cannot be compromised. Why then testify that Joseph Smith is his prophet? Because it is in the Book of Mormon that we find our knowledge and understanding of both the Fall and the Atonement (see 2 Nephi 2; 9); and because it was from the Prophet Joseph Smith that we learned that all principles of the gospel are simply an appendage to the Atonement.We exist as a church because there was a Joseph Smith. It is because there is a Book of Mormon, it is because John the Baptist came to the Prophet and gave him keys and authority, and because Peter, James, and John did likewise. Our testimony of Christ grows out of these truths; it cannot stand independent of them. We cannot bring people to Christ without bringing them to these principles. We testify of Joseph Smith because he is God's choice to be the revelator of Christ for this dispensation. We testify of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon because it is the pure source, given by God to our dispensation, to learn of his Son. We testify of the appearance of those who held authority anciently to Joseph Smith, because that evidences that God has given us the same knowledge and authority had by the ancients. If we are going to ignore those principles in the testimony we bear, then it is a reasonable assumption that the Spirit will ignore us when we attempt to bear that testimony. "You shall declare the things which have been revealed to my servant, Joseph Smith, Jun.," is the Lord's direction to us (D&C 31:4).

. . . Had Joseph Smith sought answers in the Bible, instead of on his knees in a quiet grove, we would still be waiting for the restoration of the gospel promised in the Bible. Similarly, in missionary work, as long as we attempt to show people the path of salvation as stemming from the Bible, we become nothing more than another of the squabbling sects of Christendom. Our responsibility is to teach investigators to pray and to show them how answers come. The well-trained missionary will answer investigators' questions by finding the simplest and most direct route to the Sacred Grove. It is not common ground we seek in giving answers, but holy ground. Those who have a Bible need now to become as those of whom we read in the Bible; that is, they need living prophets and the faith to call down the revelations of heaven upon their own heads.

. . . As Latter-day Saints we must know clearly where we stand. If our message is simply a reworking of key Bible texts for which we have gained some insights that others overlooked, then why not abandon the offensive notion that there was a universal apostasy, or that there is but one true church, and get on with the matter of mending fences with historical Christianity? If, on the other hand, we are serious in testifying that there was indeed an apostasy, that it was universal, that it included the loss of the priesthood and the saving truths of salvation and the knowledge of the very nature of God himself, then we must be prepared to stand alone. We are not attempting to rebuild out of the theological rubble of the past. We have no borrowed doctrines. We have no priesthood, no keys, no power, no authority that we have received from the world. Such being the case, we have no right to proclaim our message to the nations of the earth by seeking common ground. We must stand independent. Indeed, it is not common ground that we seek. We seek sacred ground, and upon that ground we must stand.

[Source: Joseph Fielding McConkie, Here We Stand.]

"This Space Reserved" . . . Not

Even though she's much shorter than I am, "Sister X" is someone I really look up to. Now in her 80's, hers has not been an easy life, having suffered many trials and family tragedies. But through it all she has never complained. Many admire how she has faithfully hung in there, a great example of what the Lord expects us to be -- a faithful friend, kind, charitable, willing to serve anywhere the Lord asks. Her life shows she takes seriously the words of our 13th Article of Faith: "We hope to be able to endure all things" -- with one exception: She cannot endure it when someone sits in her spot in the chapel.

"Sister X" is not alone. Many there are who act as if the seats they claim as their own were earned through their faithfulness in the pre-existence. To be forced to sit somewhere else is tantamount to asking Queen Elizabeth to carry her own luggage! Inconceivable!

Members who stake a claim to certain pews bring back memories of a college class where we studied the practices of churches in the 1700's. To help defray the costs of building a church, the more well-to-do could contribute a sizable sum, and in return they'd be allowed access to their exclusive "family pews," many of their own design. One of the benefits, of course, was that they'd be guaranteed to sit in the same spot week after week. 

The more conservative ones looked something like this -- a simple enclosure with a door on the end.

St. Margaret's Church, Felbrigg (Photo by Derek Lamden)

But this was nothing when compared to many parish churches in England. Some of those pews had backs so high nobody could see you. They gave their owners total privacy, some with curtains and high, ornately carved walls. Your neighbors couldn't tell whether you were awake or not!

Here are some examples:

Ferneley Family Pew, 1828.



Barnardiston Family Pew, Sts. Peter and Paul, Kedington, assembled in 1610 from pieces of the medieval screen that once separated the Holy of Holies from the rest of the church, but dissembled for the more fitting purpose of constructing a private sitting place for Important Persons.




Interior of Kederminster Family Pew, decorated with coats of arms, and containing hat pegs and benches.



(The preceding 4 examples, including captions, were found on http://laudemgloriae.blogspot.com/2009/11/family-pew.html )

These photos call to mind a 1955 article about reverence in church meetings by President David O. McKay. Commenting on the rudeness of young people who leave church meetings before dismissal, he said, "They should have lived in colonial days when just to make sure they stayed through the service young men were locked in their pews by their superiors."

Christopher Wren, one of the most highly acclaimed architects in all of England and the designer of famous cathedrals and palaces, hated the notion of family pews which afforded fashionable privileges to the rich, leaving standing room only or limited space in the upstairs galleries for the poor. After all, he reasoned, the gospel should be available to all without class distinction. Eventually the practice was discontinued.

But back to our day. I cannot deny that sitting in the same place every week lends continuity and stability to our Sunday worship. But seriously, folks -- can we really feel justified in reacting in red-hot anger when a stranger "jumps our claim"? Or refusing to budge when they ask that we (gasp!) move to the center of the pew?

Our tithes and offerings do not guarantee season tickets. Let us walk the charitable walk and not just talk the talk.

The Hall Class

I once heard about a special meeting held for ordinance workers in the Provo Temple. The President of the Church was there to address them, and when he became aware that some hadn't shown up for the meeting, he made this statement: “When you are where you ought to be, you will hear what the Lord wants you to hear.”

The purpose of our Sunday meetings is that we “hear what the Lord wants us to hear”—not so that we can simply look at each other at the end of the three hours and proclaim, "A good time was had by all.”

As Sunday School president, I've noted that Handbook 2 contains this statement: “All Church members ages 12 and older are members of Sunday School.” After searching the entire Handbook I was unable to find any footnote after that statement that says
". . . unless of course you are in one of the following categories:

1. "Members who prefer to hang out with friends in the chapel, the hall, or the library, or who're conducting more 'important' Church business.

2. "Young Women leaders who are convinced that they need 40 minutes to 'prepare their room' but spend most of that time visiting."

When I think about those who do not attend Sunday School I can't help wondering how many of them are the same ones who long to feel more “spiritual,” who pray every day for greater spiritual guidance, who long to find solutions to challenges they've been struggling with week after week (year after year?) --all of whom feeling that the heavens are sealed and the Lord has "forgotten" them. Are these the same ones who anguish over addictions they wish they could overcome but never seem to find the necessary willpower? Are these the fathers and mothers who continually agonize over how to get along better with their children? The husbands and wives who cannot seem to resolve their differences?

And then I wonder: How many times has the Lord heard the prayers and longings of His children and said, “I will provide the answers, solutions, uplift, and encouragement they seek by inspiring their Sunday School instructors to make a special comment, read a particular quote, tell a story, or bear testimony in such a way that they receive the answers they seek. But there's a catch: The members must be in class. If they will only be where they ought to be, they will hear and feel the answers they’ve been seeking.”

Just wondering.

Reaching Out

Experts caution hikers and campers to avoid making eye contact if confronted by a bear because bears perceive this as a threat. Even among humans, eye contact between strangers is a source of discomfort and anxiety. Just watch people's eyes as they move past one another in stores and on the street.

While this is understandable among total strangers in a public setting, I've never understood why there's so much of this avoidance of eye contact at church. Many of us act as if our baptismal covenant contains the following fine print: "I know we're all brothers and sisters, that we've agreed to bear one another's burdens, etc. etc., but when I'm at church, I'm only going to speak to those I already know. I will not make eye contact with or speak to those I don't."

Sound farfetched? Then consider this true story of a general authority as related by Elder M. Russell Ballard:

Elder Devere Harris of the First Quorum of the Seventy told me of a recent visit he made to a long-established ward in Utah. He said, "I entered there as a stranger and tried every way that I knew to strike up a conversation, or to say hello, or to be kind, or to be greeted, or to be known. Everyone ignored me; nobody would speak to me -- no one!"

"Finally, a man recognized me. He said, 'Oh, Elder Harris!' The bishop turned around and said, 'What did you say?' The brother said, 'This is Elder Harris of the First Quorum of the Seventy.'

"Well, things changed. It wasn't long before I was asked to sit on the stand; they wondered if i wouldn't like to bear my testimony. After the meeting, many people shook my hand. As I left, I thought, 'What a tragedy! A gray-haired man who was unknown walks into a meeting. Nobody recognizes him, nobody says hello, nobody is kind. Then, because of his Church position, everybody changes and wants to be friendly'" ("The Hand of Fellowship, Ensign, Nov. 1988).

I know from personal experience -- both as a giver and a receiver -- how much it can brighten the day of someone you don't know by making eye contact, reaching out, saying hello, and introducing yourself. [But please don't be like a certain man I know. He does all of these things, but only so he can launch into a discussion about himself.]

The streets of this world are full of people who eyes are either looking straight ahead or are cast down. I cannot visualize the same thing on celestial streets. Can you?

The Eyewitness

The following incident is true. It happened to a woman I once met. As you read it, imagine yourself in her place, trying to feel what she may have felt. 

You are alone in your faded, yellow station wagon on a dark street. It is winter. You are waiting at a red light. Another car pulls up behind you, but you probably don't notice. It's driven by a young man, a 17-year-old high school senior on his way to a friend's house where a school choral group is practicing for the upcoming Christmas program. In a few moments your lives will become intertwined.

Traffic is light. No cars are coming from the opposite direction. To your left is a Shell station. Across the street on your left is a vacant lot. The light turns green. You accelerate. Halfway through the intersection there's an earth-shattering crash causing you to lose control of the car. You veer to the left, drive over the sidewalk and bounce through the vacant lot, slowly coming to a stop. You're very shaken up, crying and scared, but uninjured. A fellow from the Shell station runs across the street to see if you're alright. Through your tears you ask him what happened, and he tells you that another car crashed into yours, causing you to veer off into the vacant lot. You never saw it coming.

The car that hit you sits in the middle of the intersection. The driver, a man, remains at the wheel. Sitting in the passenger seat is a woman, his wife. They just sit there and do not appear to be injured.

A few motorists stop to see if they can be of assistance. One of them is the high school student who was waiting behind you at the light. He tells you he saw what happened, gives you his name and phone number, and leaves. Only later do you learn that he was the only eyewitness.

A day or two later you meet with an insurance adjuster. During the conversation you give him the name of the eyewitness. Within a few days, the insurance investigator goes to the high school. There, with permission of the school authorities, he interviews the young man who confirms that the traffic light was definitely green when you entered the intersection.

It appears to be an open-and-shut case. Your statement and that of the eyewitness affirm that the other driver was at fault. But many months later you are stunned to learn that the other driver is suing you. He claims that it was he, not you, who had the green light. You feel like the wind has been knocked out of you. You wonder, "How can this be? It was so obvious that he was the one at fault!"

Your world has now turned upside down. Your nights are worry-filled and sleepless. You hire an attorney. A court date is set. The attorney contacts the parents of the high school student, only to learn that he's now in college out of state. The parents contact their son, and arrangements are made to fly him home to testify at the trial.

When the day arrives, you scan the almost empty courtroom. Very few spectators are there.  Then you see them -- the driver of the other car and his wife. They stare at you in anger. You look away. Then you see a young man -- the student -- and you realize how much you depend on his testimony today.

He is called to the stand and sworn in. His voice is very quiet. So quiet, in fact, that the judge twice interrupts, asking him to speak louder so the jury can hear him. The other driver and his wife are looking daggers at the young man. He tries not to return their gaze.

You are surprised by how few questions he is asked -- seems like only two or three --then he's excused. Though brief, his testimony was exactly what you'd hoped for.

The witness leaves the courtroom with an older man, probably his father. He doesn't have time to wait around for the verdict because he has a plane to catch. After a gut-wrenching wait, the verdict is in. The jury believes you and your witness. You have won! The ordeal that has tormented you for the better part of a year is over.

Later, after things have settled down, you write a letter to the young man. You tell him the good news. It's not just a hurried note saying "thanks a lot." Yours are words of heartfelt gratitude, written with great emotion because, quite literally, his actions freed you from fear and despair.

Now, reader, consider how you'd feel to be in that woman's shoes. How important to you was that young man's testimony? Oh, sure, you could have taken the stand and testified on your own behalf. But then, so would the other driver, followed by his wife. And we know whose side she would take. Without your eyewitness it would have come down to "she said vs. he said."

Can you feel, even slightly, how important it would be to have someone on your side -- someone who could testify on your behalf? What a comfort to know that someone would be there to back you up -- to speak out for you.

That incident came to my mind early this morning while I was pondering two verses of scripture. They refer to a future scene when we will stand before God to be judged. There He will measure us against the standards we've been taught by His Son and our prophet leaders. The only way to measure up and to qualify for eternal life is to be found without sin. But here's the problem: Nobody is without sin. Nobody on this earth can ever make himself clean enough on his or her own. .

So does nobody enter God's presence? Are we all to be cast out? Actually, if it were not for Christ, that would be the case. If left to our own feeble efforts to cleanse ourselves and rid ourselves of the ungodly choices we've made in this life -- then yes, we would all be cast out, because nobody can make himself clean again. There is only one way to accomplish this -- with the Savior's help.

To those who hope to be clean again, the Savior tells us how:   "Sanctify yourselves . . . purify your hearts, and cleanse your hands and your feet before me, that I may make you clean." You will note that he does not say, "Make yourselves clean," because that is impossible. He is the One -- the only One -- who can ultimately cleanse us, not we ourselves. He is the "cleaning Solution" that washes away darkness, uncleanness, addiction, ungodliness, wickedness, and disobedience. The cleansing process can only happen when we sincerely repent and allow His Atonement to take our sins away.

And if we take advantage of His selfless offer to cleanse us, the next verse makes the most important point of all. In it He tells us what He will do in the courtroom scene when we stand before the Father. Instead of being totally alone, He will be there with us -- as our Eyewitness-- and here is what He promises to do: "That I may testify unto your Father, and your God and my God, that you are clean . . ." (See Doctrine and Covenants 88:74-75.) And because Christ can only speak the truth, the Father will believe Him, and we will be allowed entrance to God's kingdom. Our sins will have been forgotten -- remitted -- and the penalty for having committed them will have been paid for by Jesus Christ.

The message of Christ's Atonement is that even when we stumble spiritually, no matter how far we fall, as long as we get back up and sincerely and contritely call upon His name, with a resolve to never repeat the sin, He will make us clean again -- not partially clean -- not almost clean -- not close enough clean -- but totally without sin. And in that final judgment scene He will be there at our side as our eyewitness, bearing testimony to the Father that we are spotless, because He has made us so.

As President Boyd K. Packer promised only 48 hours ago in a CES devotional at BYU -- and he said it twice for emphasis -- "You and He will remember your sins no more." I assure you this is a true doctrine. I could not live with any measure of hope for my future if I did not know this for myself.

PS: I was the eyewitness to the accident..

A Great Treasure

I finished reading the Book of Mormon this morning. Have lost track of how many times I've read it. All I know is it's not as many as I'd like. This time around was easier, though, because I'd set aside a specific time to read every day -- early morning. It simply became part of my regular schedule, and I strongly recommend it, even if it means getting up a little earlier.

Seminary students may be prone to ask, "How much do I have to read to make it count?" It doesn't matter. I always avoid those reading programs that tell you how many chapters a day you need to read in order to get through the scriptures in a certain amount of time. Seems to me that those who get caught up in that end up more concerned about the destination than the journey. Read a little or a lot -- but do it every day.

Why every day? I will answer by asking you how important the following personal attributes are to you:

1) Discernment -- the ability to comprehend what might be hidden or obscured. Those who have this attribute or gift are able to observe things in others that reveal their true motives or warn them of potential problems in relationships. They are also more likely to make correct decisions. Is this something you desire?

2) Insight -- the ability to see beneath what lies on the surface; to understand doctrine more clearly; to have a clearer view of the spiritual and see things from an eternal perspective.

3) Conviction -- another word for testimony. Strong, not wavering. Built on a firm, not shaky foundation. Able to avoid temptation; to do the right thing even when nobody's watching.

4) Spirituality -- to be able, in spite of the noises of this world, to sense the quiet impressions that come from the Holy Ghost.

So what do these four attributes have to do with reading the Book of Mormon? Consider this statement by President Ezra Taft Benson: "I have noted within the Church a difference in discernment, insight, conviction, and spirit between those who know and love [not just read] the Book of Mormon and those who do not. That book is a great sifter" (Christmas fireside, 7 Dec. 1986).

Every day that sifting process is going on. Some seek the guidance of the voice of the Good Shepherd. Others go their own way, confident in their own ability to make it through life, or only turning to the Lord when everything around them is falling apart.

I have the conviction that we may find daily spiritual uplift, discover the miracle of forgiveness, and literally receive the assurance of how near the Lord really is to us if we will read from the Book of Mormon. 

Conference Is Over -- Now What?

General Conference is over. So what? What I mean is, what are we going to do about it?

Well, we could rush back into the "real" world to see what we've been missing, you know, e-mails, Facebook, etc. etc. Or we could hustle off to see what movies are playing in the "great and spacious building" known as television (See Elder Boyd K. Packer, "Lehi's Dream and You," BYU devotional, Jan. 16, 2007). This is known as the "Let's see, conference was nice, but where was I?" response.

Or, we could join the many who'll be asking,"Which talk did you enjoy the most?" But wait. Is that why the talks were given? To be enjoyed? Not according to Elder Dallin Oaks, who taught:

"Last week I was talking with a member of the Quorum of the Twelve about comments we had received on our April conference talks. My friend said someone told him, 'I surely enjoyed your talk.' We agreed that this is not the kind of comment we like to receive. As my friend said, 'I didn’t give that talk to be enjoyed. What does he think I am, some kind of entertainer?' Another member of our quorum joined the conversation by saying, 'That reminds me of the story of a good minister. When a parishioner said, ‘I surely enjoyed your sermon today,’ the minister replied, ‘In that case, you didn’t understand it’ ” ("The Dedication of a Lifetime," CES Fireside for Young Adults, May 1, 2005).

The question I posed in my opening line contains a key word upon which the success of General Conference hinges. The word is do. What do we plan to do with what the prophets and apostles taught us?

Here's what I recommend: Now that the General Authorities have taught general gospel principles in General Conference, this is the time for another conference -- not a general one, but a specific conference where there are only two attendees: Ourself, and the Holy Ghost. This conference begins with a prayer in which we ask God to reveal through His Spirit the specific behaviors and attitudes we need to change as a result of what His prophets and apostles taught during the past two days. This is followed by some quiet time as we ponder the notes we took and the counsel we received. It is then, during that quiet time, that we wait for the answers that will come -- and they will come -- as feelings.  

And then comes the real test: Will we hearken, or merely hear. Will we make the commitment to do what we felt the Spirit prompt us to do? 

Long after the Conference Center lights are turned off and the doors are locked, I hope you will agree that this is the real purpose of General Conference.

A Tribute to Marion D. Hanks

Another giant redwood has fallen. Elder Marion D. Hanks, emeritus member of the Seventy who spent almost two-thirds of his life as a General Authority (including serving as mission president of Elders Jeffrey R. Holland and Quentin L. Cook) died on August 5, 2011.

Elder Hanks was a remarkable Church leader. His teachings and example contributed much to the development of my testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ. But even more than being a great leader, his life was an example of what it means to be Christ-like.

Unfortunately, some who read this article may only vaguely recognize his name. Fortunately for you, his teachings are accessible on the internet in the archives of General Conference talks and BYU devotional speeches. They are very much worth studying because they reveal insights into living a Christ-like life.

In the summer of 1985, I was about to be offered a teaching position within the Church Educational System. A final step in the hiring process involved an interview with a General Authority. Mine was with Elder Hanks. On the appointed day, my wife and I went to the old Church Administration Building for the meeting. (Even though there is now a 28-story Church Office Building standing behind it, this stately building, built during the administration of President Joseph F. Smith, is where, even today, are located the offices of the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve. It is not open to the public.)

Elder Hanks was known for his unselfish concern for others, and that was very apparent during the interview. He asked if we had any concerns about the decision to become a seminary instructor. I confessed that my only concerns centered on our financial situation. I was 37, married, with six children. The annual starting salary for new seminary instructors right out of college was about $24,000. I had been offered about 50% more than that because of my "life experience." But that still wouldn't provide enough for our needs. I explained that we had just sold our property in Oregon on a contract sale, meaning that the buyers were to send us a monthly payment for the next 20 years or so. Those payments would be counted on to supplement our CES income. There was no way we could survive financially if we had to depend on the CES salary alone.

Then I told him of another concern -- a pending matter with the IRS relating to a company for which I'd worked twelve years earlier. My wife and I had been minor stockholders, and due to certain financial improprieties of which we were not a part, the IRS had determined that all former stockholders owed a significant amount of back taxes and interest penalties. In our case the amount they wanted was about $100,000. While we were contesting their decision, we knew that, inevitably, the day would come when we had to pay something -- we just didn't know how much or when.

Elder Hanks listened carefully as I told him how heavily this matter weighed on us. He said he understood our concern but gave this counsel: "Don't let it consume you."

Shortly thereafter I accepted a teaching position in Phoenix where I taught during the 1985-86 school year. Midway through my second year, in February, 1987, Elder Hanks was the General Authority visitor at our stake conference. These were stressful days for my wife and me. One month earlier, the people who bought our Oregon property informed us that they were having financial problems. Included with their letter was a check for only one-third of the regular monthly payment. They said they were going to have to sell the property and wouldn't be able to make any more payments. (We later had to take the property back and find another buyer.) Our income was now significantly reduced, and I was very stressed about how to make ends meet.

So, here was Elder Hanks at our stake conference, and prior to one of the meetings I was standing at the back of the chapel as he walked by. While shaking hands with the members, he approached me. I could sense that he recognized me from our interview almost two years earlier. With that recognition in his eyes and a concern for others that was so like him, he said, "So, how is it going?" Well, that was not the time or place to go into all the details, so I somewhat hesitantly said, "OK" or something like that.

A few days later I wrote him a letter in which I thanked him for making the recent stake conference one of the best I'd ever attended -- and it was. Then I mentioned the hesitation with which I had answered his question -- "So, how's it going?" I told him of the bad news from Oregon and its serious impact on our family. I said I was seriously considering finding another job that would better provide for the needs of my family, adding, "Please understand that I'm not pleading for more money. I'm just wondering if, when I first thought about teaching seminary, I may have been more concerned about the welfare of the youth in the Church than that of my own family!"

A few weeks later I received a kind response (which I noted he'd typed himself). Here is an excerpt:

"You are correct in supposing that I understood in a measure your hesitancy in responding to my query about your present well being. I have been concerned and a bit apprehensive about that from the moment we talked.

"It is well and good to give one's self in the service of the Lord, and a choice and privileged blessing to do so. However, I do not look upon [full-time] seminary teaching as a calling but as a profession, and a profession which one should weigh as he would any other situation, whether or not that professional undertaking is wise for him and his family here and now . . . the balance must not be on what others need to the exclusion of your own most serious and sacred commitments and responsibilities.

"In short, if you can't make it teaching and you can otherwise, and this is best for your family, and it will relieve the strain and burden on your wife and children, then I would not hesitate to consider and accept a professional position that will permit you to live without the economic stresses that teaching sometimes imposes . . .

"Young people need good teachers, and I would not trade my years teaching for any other experience. Nonetheless, I never intended to do it full time and would have avoided that, if possible, for the above and other reasons . . .

"The Lord bless you in your decisions and in your future."

His counsel was much appreciated. But what meant even more to me was his statement that he'd been concerned about me "from the moment we talked." He actually remembered me, and I knew that he cared! If you want to know where to find Christ-like qualities in a person, you will find them in the life of Marion D. Hanks -- not just in his teachings, but in the way that he lived. He was a true disciple of the Master that he so faithfully served -- concerned about "the one" -- and I will always love him for that. 

Click below to see the article about his funeral.  

http://www.ldschurchnews.com/articles/61285/Funeral-for-Elder-Hanks.html

Spiritual Kryptonite

Television became available to American households in the early 1950’s. The first TV our family had looked like this.

The screen was small, and, of course, all programs were in black and white. We didn't have a color TV until I was seventeen. In my elementary school years, I don’t think there was a day that went by when, after school, we weren’t lying on the floor with our chins propped in our hands watching our favorite shows.

“Superman” was one of my favorites. It was based on the popular comic book hero, but it had real actors. There was no end to the suspenseful weekly dramas where Superman performed super-human rescues or fought off evil villains. (I do find it interesting, however, that although he could see through practically anything with his x-ray vision, blast his body thru impenetrable walls without receiving a scratch, and fly “faster than a speeding bullet” – when a bad guy would run out of ammo and throw the gun at him, Superman always ducked. Oh well.)

There was only one thing that could weaken or immobilize Superman: a crystallized material called kryptonite, from his home planet of Krypton. If Superman came into close proximity to kryptonite he would lose all of his super-powers and become weak, dizzy, and eventually lose consciousness. Not once did we ever hear our hero say, “I think I’ll see how close I can get to kryptonite without it killing me.” On the contrary—he stayed as far away as he could.

Pornography is like kryptonite, only worse. For decades, Church leaders have warned against it. It saps spiritual strength and results in the loss of the influence of the Holy Ghost. Many of those who view it will become addicted with an addiction every bit as strong as an addiction as heroin, cocaine, or meth. It can literally destroy individuals’ lives and family relationships.

Why is it, then, that in spite of all the warnings, so many among us are afflicted with this addiction? And why are some of us seemingly sticking our heads in the sand, unwilling to admit that this deadly enemy has scaled the walls and is, in reality, already inside our gates?

“Well, it may be happening in the outside world, but it can’t be happening within my ward, class, quorum . . . or family.” Think not? Think your ward/stake has a protective shield around it and that nobody is tinkering with the deadliest “spiritual kryptonite” of our day? Consider this: “A worried stake president [who prefers to remain anonymous] . . . interviewed one hundred young men regarding pornography use. Ninety-four out of one hundred young men admitted to viewing pornography occasionally or regularly.

"In a study reported to the Attorney General's Commission on Pornography by Dr. Jennings Bryant, '600 American males and females of high school age and above were interviewed about their out in real life involvement with pornography. 91% of the males and 82% of the females admitted to having been exposed to X-rated, hard-core pornography. Two-thirds of the males and 40% of the females reported wanting to try out some of the behaviors they had witnessed'" (Source: Confronting Pornography, ed. Chamberlain, Gray, Reid, 15, 68).

Studies show that fully one-third of all visits to Internet sites by adult users are to sexually oriented websites. According to Google Trends, in 2007, while Utah and/or Salt Lake City ranked tops in Internet searches by web users for words like “Jesus,” “family history,” “Harry Potter,” “Mormon,” “Lord of the Rings,” . . . “snowboarding,” “home storage,” and “Mitt Romney,” Utah and Salt lake City also ranked #1 in the nation in searches for “pornography,” “naked girls,” “striptease,” “topless,” “nude,” “strip poker,” “lingerie,” “blonde,” and “brunette.” (Source: "What Do Utahns Google?" Deseret News, Oct. 12, 2007.)

In the early 1980's, at a Regional LDS Boy Scout Encampment at Lake Pend Oreille, Idaho, I heard Elder Vaughn J. Featherstone relate the true account of a man who had held a high position in the Church but who’d been excommunicated for immoral behavior. In order to demonstrate to the Brethren how deeply the man had gotten addicted to pornography, the man’s file leader took examples of the man’s pornographic magazines to a meeting with the First Presidency. Elder Featherstone said that the leader laid the magazines on the table in front of the First Presidency, saying, “Just look at the kinds of evil to which this man has become addicted!”

But something happened which the leader did not expect. None of the Brethren let their eyes look upon the magazines or the images they contained. Each of them kept his eyes firmly locked on his. Their response?: “We don’t need to look at pornorgraphy to know how evil it is.” And in those words we find the key to safety. Follow counsel. Don't experiement, not even out of curiosity.

Joseph Smith taught that in the latter days, sexual immorality would be the source of more temptations, more buffetings, and more difficulties for the elders of Israel than any other (see Journal of Discourses 8:55).

Oh, that we could teach our men and boys that one doesn’t need to sample poison to know that it kills.

Superman never did.

Guardrails

Guardrails are a common sight in California's Yosemite Park. Anyone who would complain about them being an "eyesore" or clamor for their removal would be regarded as a crackpot.

These kids are standing behind the guardrail at the edge of one of the many waterfalls in Yosemite -- Vernal Fall.

Here is another view of Vernal Fall, 371 feet down to the massive boulders below. By now you've probably heard the tragic news of three young adults -- one young woman and two young men -- who were swept over these falls earlier this week. While we obviously feel great sympathy for their family members and friends, we cannot help but be astounded at their extremely poor judgment.

Around the falls and along the river that feeds into them are guardrails and warning signs. According to one news account, "The area is dotted with clear and multi-lingual displays warning of the dangers . . . One sign features a stick figure falling over a cliff."

Eyewitnesses reported how shocked they were upon seeing these three ignore the posted warning signs and climb over the guardrail. The young woman and one of the young men stepped onto rocks in the river which was running high and fast due to the summer snowmelt. The other young man had also climbed over the guardrail and was shooting photos of his "brave" friends.

So there they were, only a few dozen yards above the falls. It appeared that the young man was trying to make his way along the slippery rocks to the center of the swollen river. But he lost his footing and fell in. Then the young woman slipped into the fast-moving water. Their friend, the photographer, jumped into the river in a vain attempt to rescue them. One eyewitness said that just before the three were launched over the falls, one of the two young men made eye contact with him, and the look in his eyes was one of horror.

Because the river is running so high, some do not expect to find the bodies for weeks.

I once had an experience with guardrails. In the winter of 1970, I was among two busloads of BYU geology students who traveled into the mountains of eastern Utah on an overnight field trip. On the second day, the buses were traveling through the mountains along a narrow back-road. The going was slow because of large patches of ice and snow, and it was on one of those icy patches that our bus ran into trouble.

We were headed up an incline when the bus’s wheels suddenly lost traction and began spinning on the ice. At that moment, we all looked out our windows and had the frightening realization that not only were we not moving forward but the bus was sliding sideways very slightly towards the edge of the road where there was a steep drop-off. And worst of all—there was no guardrail.

Sensing the danger, our driver promptly stopped the bus and opened the door, instructing all of us to get out—fast. Fortunately, for now at least, the bus had stopped its sideways slide. Standing huddled in the cold, we watched as our driver repeatedly tried inching the bus forward. But the wheels continued to spin on the ice. Suddenly, we were speechless as the bus once again slid a few more inches toward the edge. After several more attempts to move the bus forward, the driver was finally able to advance it beyond that slippery spot and away from the dangerous drop-off.

Greatly relieved to be out of danger, we got back on the bus and continued on our way.

That trip offered many opportunities to learn about interesting geologic formations, including a visit to Dinosaur National Monument. But I only have a vague recollection of any of that. After all these years, the only clear memory of that trip is that I came home with a very strong appreciation for guardrails.

What about the spiritual guardrails in our lives? The ones placed along life's road by God's prophets. It would take too long to list them all, but you know what I'm talking about. They are standards which, if followed, offer protection from spiritual injury, addiction, and much sorrow. Some, trusting that God is truly watching out for us, stay behind the guardrail. Others, like those three young people, tell themselves "I can handle it."

Do we rationalize an occasional jump over the guardrails the Lord has put in place -- such as viewing spiritually deadly and addicting images on the Internet; accepting bloody violence as the norm in what we call "entertainment"; using the vulgar language that is becoming so commonplace in the world? many do so, telling themselves that spiritual guardrails are intended for the "weaker" ones among us, but that these "stronger souls" can hop over them any time they want to sample a little worldly excitement. "After all,: they reason, "I can jump back to the safe side any time I want."

Unfortunately, spiritual injury isn't like physical injury. There's no bleeding, no broken bones sticking through the flesh, no gaping wounds. Spiritual injury is often undetectable, even to the one who is injured. But it's there, and it has a debilitating effect on our spirit. The greatest impact is that the Holy Ghost leaves us on our own.

I suggest that we consider the spiritual guardrails in our lives and resolve to respect them and stay on the right side of them. How else can we become the sanctified souls that we were sent here to become?

On Education

What I'm about to share strikes close to home, because, to some extent, I fall into the category of people I'm describing. It's written out of concern, not by way of criticism.

In recent years I've had the opportunity to associate closely with young people in the 18-30 age group. Prior to that I'd served in various settings as a religious instructor to high school teens of all ages. It was a great experience. Yet while I always found them to be delightful, energetic, and fun-loving, I found that regardless of their age there was a common thread, particularly among the young men: the lack of planning for post-high-school education.

I'm concerned that many young men, once high school graduation has passed, have no educational or career goals. There were times that I wanted to hold up a huge banner that said,"Breaking News: Scientists Have Discovered That There Is Life After High School!"

Of greater concern is the number of young men returning from LDS missions who have no idea what they want to do with their lives. When I've asked them about their future plans, college isn't even on their list of options. Instead of choosing a specific career path aligned with their unique abilities and interests, many simply drift into a job -- any job. I know the feeling.

Although I did take some college, before and after my mission, I hadn't a clue what I really wanted to study or what career path I wanted to follow. Since returning from my mission and getting married, I have had 8 different jobs. Only one of them was because I actually planned it. The others all came about by happenstance.

I admit that few really end up in a the "dream job" they envisioned when they were in their teens, but there still remains that basic need to get an education. Addressing the young men of the Church in the October 2006 general priesthood meeting, President Gordon B. Hinckley gave this counsel: "I call your attention to another matter that gives me great concern. In revelation the Lord has mandated that this people get all the education they can. He has been very clear about this. But there is a troubling trend taking place. Elder Rolfe Kerr, Commissioner of Church Education, advises me that in the United States nearly 73 percent of young women graduate from high school, compared to 65 percent of young men. Young men are more likely to drop out of school than young women. "Approximately 61 percent of young men enroll in college immediately following high school, compared to 72 percent for young women. In 1950, 70 percent of those enrolled in college were males, and 30 percent were females; by 2010 projections estimate 40 percent will be males, and 60 percent will be females. "Women have earned more bachelor’s degrees than men every year since 1982 and more master’s degrees since 1986. "It is plainly evident from these statistics that young women are exceeding young men in pursuing educational programs. And so I say to you young men, rise up and discipline yourself to take advantage of educational opportunities. Do you wish to marry a girl whose education has been far superior to your own? We speak of being “equally yoked.” That applies, I think, to the matter of education. "In addition, your education will strengthen your service in the Church. A study was made some years ago that indicated the higher the education, the greater the faith and participation in religious activity" ("Rise Up, O Men of God," Ensign, Nov. 2006.)

Here's another concern: the under-education of many coming out of high school. Many are lacking basic communication skills (spelling, grammar, being able to write well) and are particularly ignorant about world history and current events. On that topic, you may find the following links of interest. The first is an excerpt from a speech by Ben Stein to the Commonwealth Club in San Francisco in 2008. Entertaining but so true.
http://www.bing.com/videos/watch/video/ben-stein-americas-education-crisis/0e72ea171fff3a1083520e72ea171fff3a108352-959054546245?q=Ferris+Bueller+%2b+Ben+Stein&FROM=LKVR5&GT1=LKVR5&FORM=LKVR29

The second link will take you to a very interesting report called "Still at Risk: What Students Don't Know Even Now." The title says it all. It's a 24-page report. If you don't have time to review it all, here's an excerpt: "As Emory Professor Mark Bauerlein reports in his forthcoming book, The Dumbest Generation, American youth have more schooling, money, leisure time, and information than any previous generation, yet they devote enormous quantities of time to social networking websites, television, and video games. Young people, on average, spend two to four hours daily watching television or playing video games; most cannot name their mayor, governor, or senator, and 45 percent are unable to comprehend a sample ballot. . . "Nearly a quarter of 17-year-olds did not know that George Washington commanded the American army in the Revolutionary War. Forty percent could not identify the proper half-century in which the First World War took place. One-fourth thought Christopher Columbus had landed in the New World after 1750. More than a quarter did not know that it is the Declaration of Independence that declares that all men “are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights.” See the report here: http://commoncore.org/_docs/CCreport_stillatrisk.pdf

In the U.S. Army's ads encouraging young people to enlist, they say, "Be all that you can be." Without a proper education, there's little chance. Hoping some of this may be useful to you.

Bobby

I’ll never forget the first time I saw Bobby Steinmetz take off his leg. It was the first day of freshman P.E. class, and we were changing out of our sweaty gym clothes and heading for the showers. Just as casually as you might remove your shoes and socks, Bobby unstrapped the artificial leg and hopped into the shower on his good one. The amputation was a few inches below the knee. None of us knew the story behind it, and nobody felt brave enough to ask. Someone said he’d slipped while trying to jump onto a train, but that sounded too far-fetched to me.

In spite of how he limped when he walked, Bobby struck me as pretty tough guy. The only classes we had together during our four years of high school were freshman and sophomore P.E. It wasn’t so strange that our paths didn’t cross elsewhere because we were part of the largest high school class the state of Oregon had ever seen—close to 900 students. But a tragic incident during our sophomore year brought us closer than either of us ever expected.

For a couple weeks our P.E. instructor, Mr. DiNucci, had been teaching us all kinds of wrestling moves. Each day we’d be matched up against another class member to practice what we’d learned. Wrestling was definitely not one of my favorite sports, made even more un-favorite because during one of our practice matches, my opponent’s elbow smashed into my face and broke my nose. While all my friends told me my nose looked cool hanging to one side, Dad took me to our family doctor who inserted cotton swabs on long wooden sticks into my nostrils and pushed things back into place. Painful.

At the end of our wrestling unit Mr. DiNucci announced we’d soon be having a written quiz. Then we’d move on to a different sport. On the day of the quiz we were all laying around on the padded floor of the wrestling room, working on our quiz papers. Some of us finished early, and that’s when the trouble began.

One of the guys grabbed Wayne Simmons’ pen, and we began tossing it among ourselves, playing “keep-away” from Wayne. Then someone lobbed it out into an open area on the wrestling mat, about 10 feet away. Bobby Steinmetz and I were the closest ones to it, so we both scurried toward it on our hands and knees, shoulder-to-shoulder. I was clenching a brand new pencil in my right hand—with the sharp tip pointing toward the ceiling. Bobby reached Wayne’s pen a half-second before I did. Grabbing the pen with his left hand, he pulled it toward his chest and rolled over sideways—right into me. His upper left arm and shoulder crashed directly into my right hand—the one holding the pencil. And there was a snapping sound.

When we’d recovered from the collision, the first thing I noticed was that only half of my pencil—the half with the eraser—was still in my hand. That's because Bobby had snapped it in half when he rolled into me. I began looking around for the broken half, but I couldn’t see it anywhere. And that was when I noticed that Bobby was grabbing his left arm in obvious pain. You know the area on your upper arm where they typically give vaccinations? Well, in that area of Bobby’s upper-left arm was a hole about the size of a dime. As I looked at it I remember thinking how strange it was that I could actually be looking inside of his arm and there be no blood running out. Then I looked more closely, and my stomach sank as I saw the broken end of my pencil looking back at me from inside Bobby’s arm. We were both stunned. While I was mumbling “I’m sorry,” over and over, we both realized he needed medical attention. So I walked with him towards Mr. DiNucci who was visiting with another instructor at the front of the room. I’m sure what I said didn’t make any sense at all … just a jumble of words: “Bobby’s arm . . . Pencil . . . Accident.”

Bobby was hustled off to the office of the school nurse. My fate was yet to be determined. I’ll never get over what did NOT happen next. Mr. DiNucci didn’t ask me anything about the incident, nor did any other teacher or administrator—not that day—not ever. Here I was expecting to be hauled off to the principal—or worse, to Mr. Kanas, the tough vice-principal. But no teacher or administrator said one word to me about what had happened.

I went through the rest of that day in a daze, wondering where and how Bobby was. I didn’t talk about what happened with anyone, not even my closest friends. With that gory scene replaying itself over and over in my mind, I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. When I got home, I didn't dare tell my folks. So I just kept it all wrapped up inside and felt awful.

Bobby didn’t show up for P.E. class the next day--or the day after—or the day after that. Every day that passed without seeing him only reinforced my worst fears: that his arm had been seriously damaged, or maybe even amputated! To match his leg! With every day that passed without seeing Bobby, I became more scared. I knew that it was only going to be a matter of time before my parents would receive a phone call from the school—or Bobby’s parents—or the police. But nobody ever called.

One day, after living with these gut-wrenching fears for almost two weeks, I walked into P.E. class—and there he was! As I said earlier, he was a pretty tough-acting guy, so I immediately feared that he was going to beat me up. But he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t say much to me at all. And when he did, he spoke softly. The only thing I remember was that he made some remark about “blood poisoning.” Clearly visible on his upper arm was a scar where an incision had been made. It looked about 3 inches long. I was so very relieved that he was ok and that he hadn’t lost his arm. But I didn’t know how to put any of my feelings into words, so I just kept quiet. No apologies. No “sure glad you’re ok.” Nothing.

I never did tell my parents.

Be Yourself

“Ever since I was a little kid, I didn’t want to be me. I wanted to be Billie Widdledon, and Billie Widdledon didn’t even like me. I walked like he walked—I talked like he talked—I signed up for the high school he signed up for. “Which was when Widdledon changed. He began to hang around Herby Vandeman. He mixed me up! I began to walk and talk like Billie Widdledon, walking and talking like Herby Vandeman. “And then it dawned on me that Herby Vandeman walked and talked like Joey Haverlin. … And Joey Haverlin walked and talked like Corky Sabison! So here I am, walking and talking like Billie Widdledon’s imitation of Herby Vandeman’s version of Joey Havelin, trying to walk and talk like Corky Sabison! “And who do you think Corky Sabison is always walking and talking like? Of all people—Dopey Wellington—that little pest who walks and talks like me!” (Jules Feiffer)

We're Expected To Judge . . . Righteously

Gone are the days when there were commonly accepted boundaries between right and wrong, moral and immoral. Society, in response to demands of vocal and often well-funded minorities, now asks for -- no, make that demands --that we toss out our old moral compass and develop their most treasured virtue: tolerance.

You know their arguments: "Choosing our own lifestyle is a basic civil right. As long as it doesn't hurt anyone else, what's the big deal?" And then they unload on us the biggest guilt trip of all: "And who are you to set yourself up as a judge?"

Even in church settings -- my church included -- there are those who say we shouldn't judge one another, being quick to quote Jesus: "Judge not, that ye be not judged" (Matthew 7:1). Sorry if this bursts your tolerance bubble, but that's not what He really said. In the LDS edition, if you look at the footnote for that verse you'll see that the Joseph Smith Translation reads as follows: "Judge not unrighteously, that ye be not judged; but judge righteous judgment."

He does not expect us to quietly sit by and endure the dishonorable, immoral, and sometimes downright stupid behavior of others. I think some of our members are like the young woman in this true story told by a professor of religion at BYU:

Several years ago one of my students asked if she could visit with me after class. She had been with me for two semesters of Book of Mormon, and she was, frankly, a delight to have in class. The light of the gospel radiated from her countenance. She came in to tell me good-bye. I said, "Well, I'll see you next year, won't I?" She shook her head and said, "No, I won't be coming back to BYU."

I asked why. She said, "Brother Millet, I'm tired. No, it's more than that -- I'm worn out. I haven't slept for almost a year now." Was she tired of studying? I asked. Wouldn't a summer break do the trick? No, that wasn't it.

She explained that her roommates, all returned missionaries, had their boyfriends over each night until the early morning hours. More specifically, there was never a place for her to sleep, inasmuch as two of her roommates had their male companions in bed with them every night.

I was stunned. Shocked. Sickened. "Well, why didn't you tell someone? Why didn't you mention it to the landlord or the bishop?" Her answer was very revealing, and it also highlights a significant problem that many in this generation face.

She said, "But wouldn't that be judging them?" We then had a long, long discussion about what it means to judge righteous judgment . . . In our day, it seems as though the most serious flaw a person can have is to be intolerant. One would rather be immoral, unclean, degenerate. But whatever you do, don't dare be intolerant. (Robert L. Millet, A Call to Holiness, in Selected Writings of Robert L. Millet).

Yesterday I heard a religious commentator make the following statement on the radio: "God loves us all. And He or She loves us just as we are." I don't disagree about Him loving us, but make no mistake -- saying that God loves us is not the same as saying God tolerates whatever we say, do, listen to, watch, wear, think, or whatever lifestyle we promote. He willingly allows us the use of our agency to choose for ourselves, but that doesn't mean He doesn't have standards of right and wrong that He expects us to live by. It is by those standards that we shall ultimately be judged -- and judged "righteously."

Sadly, even at that day there will be those who will boldly say to His holy face: "Who are you to judge me?"

I Almost Kissed Her!

I'm in the check-out line with my ginormous box of Frosted Flakes (because it's on sale, that's why!) -- and other "necessities." The lady in front of me is putting her items on the conveyor. Seeing a bottle of wine in the mix the cashier asks for photo i.d. The woman, laughing, shows her driver's license photo and says, "I don't look like I'm 54, do I?" (What's the cashier going to say? "Well, ma'am, actually you look considerably older"?) The woman is now on a roll. "I work out, and I run marathons. I even climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro when I was 52!" Then she turns around and looks at me and my Frosted Flakes and says, quite seriously, "I can tell you work out too." Made this old man's day.

Our Challenge: To Walk the Walk

Our church's annual General Conference concluded 30 minutes ago. Over the past two days, we've listened to many hours of instruction and counsel from our leaders. In some of that counsel I recognized specific answers to current concerns, problems, and stresses in my life. But now comes the challenge. Now that it's over, will I simply turn off the broadcast and go right back to doing what I was doing before it all began? Or will I take time to turn off the noises and distractions around me and seriously ponder what I've heard? Will I make specific plans to change my behavior? Or will it be "business as usual" as described in this little poem:

The sermon was ended.

The priest had descended.

Much delighted were they,

But preferred their old way.

The proof of how firmly I believe what was taught is to be found in my actions, not by how much I praise the speakers. Do I walk the walk? Or do I simply talk the talk?

Here is a story of one who walked the walk:

"On the night of December 29, 1876, the Pacific Express, a two-engine, 11-car train, was heading west through Ohio during a heavy snowstorm. Among the passengers and crew on board were Philip Paul Bliss and his wife, Lucy. Philip Bliss was a Christian songwriter and gospel singer. He had married Lucy 17 years earlier after coming to love her for her Christian virtues. At approximately 7:30pm, while crossing a trestle bridge over the Ashtabula River, the bridge collapsed, sending the eleven railcars 75 feet to the river below. As water pressed up from the broken ice, the wooden cars, heated by kerosene stoves, ignited. According to an eyewitness, as reported in the Chicago Tribune the next day, when the train fell, Mr. Bliss freed himself and succeeded in crawling through a window. He turned around to pull his wife free but found she was pinned in the framework of the seats. Rather than escape, he devotedly stayed by her side in an attempt to free her before they were both engulfed and consumed in the flames. Ninety other people were killed or later died in the Ashtabula River railroad disaster, the worst such incident in American history to that point in time." (Brad Neiger, "To Act in Holiness Before the Lord," BYU devotional, April 4, 2006.)

It may interest you to know that, although Philip Bliss was not a Latter-day Saint, three of his songs appear in our current hymnbook. At the end of this afternoon's conference session, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sang one of them: "More Holiness Give Me." It is clear that Philip Bliss didn't just talk the talk.

I pray for the strength to walk the walk the Lord expects of us.

  

Jumping to Conclusions

There was no garbage pickup service in Beavercreek, Oregon. Residents of the rural community had to regularly haul their accumulated trash to the landfill in nearby Oregon City.

One Saturday a friend stopped at the only convenience store in Beavercreek to gas up his car. While he was waiting, a woman driving a pick-up truck pulled in at the opposite pump. Her truck was loaded with a huge pile of "stuff." Assuming she was hauling it to the landfill, my friend said, "I'll bet you'll be glad to get rid of all that junk!"

She gave him an icy look and said, "We're moving."    

Things are not always what they seem. If you don't believe me, keep reading.

Years ago an orthodox Jew from Ohio was vacationing in Israel. On his list of "must see" places to visit was a hotel restaurant in Jerusalem that was famous for it's extensive buffet. As he entered the restaurant, he saw that there were two separate buffet lines. Noting that he was a bit uncertain about which line to choose, the hostess said, "Milk or meat?" This was because of Jewish prohibition stated in the Torah that milk products cannot come in contact with those containing meat. Hence the two buffet lines. [One source I found indicated that even dirty dishes from the two cannot be washed in the same dishwasher load.] 

Choosing the "milk" line the tourist began to fill his plate, but suddenly he became upset and asked to speak with the manager. 

His complaint?

The steam rising from the Swedish meatballs in the meat line was drifting over the blintzes in the milk line.

                                                          

He demanded that management create a much greater distance between the two. Much controversy ensued, and somehow the issue was taken before a panel of very revered rabbis. The question before them was this: "Is steam considered to be food?" 

Lengthy discussions took place, and, at long last, the rabbis announced this strange ruling: "If a dog will eat it, it's food." To test this new rule, a canopy was constructed over the buffet table. It had a tapered, tent-like roof. Hot, steaming Swedish meatballs were placed directly under it. A small opening was made in the canopy's pointed peak into which a length of flexible tubing was connected. The other end of the tubing was placed at ground level, with the opening resting in a chafing dish. The idea was that as the steam wafted to the top of the canopy, it would enter the tubing. Then, as it cooled, tiny droplets of moisture would condense inside the tube and drip down into the chafing dish. And it worked.

The next step was to introduce a dog into the restaurant. Once he was inside, the doors were closed, and he was left to roam at will. For several minutes he explored the room, sniffing and searching for anything of interest. And then it happened. He found the chafing dish which by now contained a small pool of condensed steam. 

Everyone's attention was riveted on the dog. He dipped his nose down into the dish, sniffed it carefully, then walked away without drinking. Because the dog didn't drink the water, the rabbis ruled that steam is not food. The restaurant manager was elated because he didn't have to make any changes in the layout of the buffet.

I heard this story from a news reporter. He heard it from the restaurant's head chef -- who admitted to wiping down the chafing dish with Pine-Sol before the test began.

Like I said before, things are not always what they seem.