Jacob the Prophet

Yesterday, I was in the Provo City Center Temple for an endowment session with two of my daughters. I had a name for the proxy ordinance from my family genealogy - the husband of my second cousin, twice removed, who was born in 1896 in Italy. 

I arrived an hour early so I could spend some time reading in The Book of Mormon. I began reading in Jacob 1. He was given the gold plates by his older brother, Nephi, to continue writing his account. I read:

"Wherefore we labored diligently among our people, that we might persuade them to come unto Christ, and partake of the goodness of God, that they might enter into his rest, lest by any means he should swear in his wrath they should not enter in, as in the provocation in the days of temptation while the children of Israel were in the wilderness.

"Wherefore, we would to God that we could persuade all men not to rebel against God, to provoke him to anger, but that all men would believe in Christ, and view his death, and suffer his cross and bear the shame of the world; wherefore, I, Jacob, take it upon me to fulfil the commandment of my brother Nephi." (Jacob 1:7-8).

This sincere prophet leader was anxious to fulfill his duty. He described how difficult it was to write on the gold plates, and he repeated the injunction of his brother, Nephi, to record and retain only those things that were precious and spirit-filled. He was to leave the historical aspects aside. "These plates" always referred to the small plates of Nephi, while "those plates" referred to the large plates of Nephi that contained the history. He preserved many plain and precious truths for us.

I was always impressed with Jacob, so much so that I named one of our sons Jacob, and I often referred to this faithful son as "Jacob the Prophet." He has proven worthy of that moniker in every way.

I pondered that phrase cited above, "bear the shame of the world," and would offer these thoughts for your consideration. It was easy to contemplate in those quiet confines of the temple chapel, and I recalled a passage from Joseph Smith's Lectures on Faith. If we would have the fellowship of our Savior Jesus Christ, we must be willing to endure humiliation, to “lay down his all, his character and reputation, his honor, and applause, his good name among men, his houses, his lands, his brothers and sisters, his wife and children, and even his own life also-counting all things but fifth and dross for the excellency of the knowledge of Jesus Christ” (Lectures on Faith 6:5).

The man of faith must learn to walk with confidence amidst the shouts of scorn from those in the “great and spacious building” (1 Nephi 8:26). When people trust in the Lord their gaze is not diverted from the Savior, for they know full well that the “sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed [to] us.” (Romans 8:18; see also 1 Nephi 8:33; 2 Nephi 9:18.)

I am no longer embedded in the things of the world as I once was. It's easier for me to think loftier thoughts these days. And this thought has persisted through the night and into today. What are we willing to give up for the "excellency" of the knowledge of Jesus Christ? There is an exchange posited here. We are informed by Jacob that we can't have it both ways. Either we love Christ or we love the ways and the praise of the world. It is an "either-or" proposition. That's a hard doctrine, but one, when embraced and lived, brings peace and solace to the soul.

There was a time in my life when I had to choose that choice. I walked away from a compromising position and decided I would pursue my long-desired ambition to teach released-time Seminary (religious training) to high school students. I had three simple goals upon returning from my mission to Great Britain in 1969: 1) Be a tour guide on Temple Square; 2) teach Seminary; and 3) sing in the Tabernacle Choir. I had already achieved number one, and now, I thought somewhat naively, it was time to pursue number two.

I was accepted for my student teaching at Brighton High School, then I was offered a full-time contract for the next school year. When they put the paper work in front of me, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It was a paltry sum of money that would not be possible to support our growing family. I had to turn it down. I found other employment, and that choice has proven to be efficacious in every way. The third goal was never realized, singing in the Tabernacle Choir.

My point in sharing that story is when we eschew the luring enticing of the world's demands and choose Christ instead, we are sustained, blessed and magnified in ways we never would have imagined. Some things just make no sense on paper. Pragmatism often wins out when pitted against spiritual goals. Remember that when given the choice (and all of you surely will be) choosing Christ and His kingdom here on earth above all other considerations will serve you well in the long run. Take it from one who is now at the end of the "long" run through mortality, there is peace.

Here's the irony of it all - I have now been asked to teach remote Institute at this late stage. The compensation? None. The satisfaction? Immense. We learned a lot through the imposed vaccines and quarantines associated with COVID-19 as we have now passed the four-year anniversary of that worldwide pandemic, and one of those realities was that we could gather remotely via technology. I will now have that opportunity to scratch that itch that was not possible so long ago.

So, lesson learned. Take the long view, be patient, and all things will work together for your good and hopefully for the blessing of those you serve.