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."
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
