It has been a few weeks since my last post. My lapse in writing can be attributed to a definite malaise that has settled in on my mind. I am reminded this morning that I have been fulfilling the prophecy in D&C 84:54. I had allowed my mind to become darkened because of unbelief and because I had been treating lightly the things I have received.
It started with the memories of Patsy's mother's passing a year ago, then continued as I have observed my own father's slow but steady deterioration as he comes up against his 94th birthday. It's hard to stay positive about the future when you see a visual example of the overall entropy that settles in on the aged ones among us. There is a fatalistic sense of the inevitability of the death of everyone and everything you love that sometimes grips your heart and you forget that life is eternal in those moments of doubt and despair.
Added to that is what's been happening in the world around us - the Paris attacks, and just last week the tragic mass murder in San Bernardino. The latter-day Gadiantons are truly glorying in their bloodbaths around the world, unabated it seems by any who would dare to molest or make afraid. News of death is always in the headlines. It's depressing, isn't it?
We were in the bishop's office last week for tithing settlement. Sadly, the bishop mentioned that some in the Woodland Ward had asked for their names to be removed from the records of the Church because of the Church's recent clarification about the policies for handling cases where same sex couples are raising children in their homes and how those children will be dealt with administratively. His observations were that often members who advocate the "politically correct" social positions are perhaps not (and maybe they were never) truly converted. If they understood true doctrine, he asserted, they would not be caught up in the controversial political winds that swirl around us daily. Politics, it has always seemed to me, is a poor substitute for true doctrine.
Our extended family is not unlike everyone else's we know. There are few families in the Church who will not be touched by the same sex attraction realities that infiltrate the lives of those we love. I have said before, and reiterate here once again that this assault strikes at the very core of the eternal plan for families as laid out specifically and with little or no confusion in the inspired document The Family: A Proclamation To The World. While we continue to nurture, love and patiently teach those we love most who are saddened and confused about the Church position on these matters, we must never weaken our own resolve that God is in His heaven and is the author of the plan of salvation because He loves His children unconditionally. Offering empathy and love to all His children, as He does, is the essence of our attempts to become more like Him.
I know a man who has struggled with all the issues over same sex attraction for a lifetime. He was full of hate. He hated his parents, he hated his wife, he hated practically everyone he knew. I'm certain he must have hated me too at times. His countenance was dark and foreboding. Happiness eluded him. I know all the intimate details of his life because he shared them with me. I have stood by as he has sunk to the depths of despair over this issue, been the subject of Church disciplinary councils through the years, been divorced and remarried, acted out his fantasies and in short "done it all" over the course of his life. In search for happiness outside his temple marriage, however, he never found what he was seeking.
Now retired, he has been reborn after the manner of Alma the younger in answer to the pleas and persistent petitions of his father and those who loved him. I believe him when he tells me based upon his lifetime of "gayness" that homosexuality is a choice. As tortured as he has been, he knows that to be true. I do not know it the way he knows it. I know that is true from a doctrinal perspective. I can only take him at his word as a witness who has lived it. And I love him deeply and honestly for his choice to return, Alma-like, cleansed, purified and wholly committed to living out his remaining days in the bonds of his marriage covenant with his wife and with his God. His countenance has changed. He is full of light and truth. He is reaching for more light every day.
I will not multiply words in this post (as tempting as that is for me), because I have laid out the doctrine repeatedly in these pages.
However, as I thought about my visit with the bishop at tithing settlement and as I have pondered "true conversion" since, I can say without reservation that the antidote for throwing off the malaise of the effects of the things that tend to dampen my enthusiasm for living is the "magic" of daily scripture study.
When I am asked how I came to love the scriptures so much the answer is simple - it was my substitute for pornography. As a young married man, I had to find a "replacement therapy" and for me it was immersing myself in the scriptures on a daily basis.
It began with a fascination about the broad topic of the signs of the times and the prophecies of the last days. The eschatology of other religions also came to bear on my studies. After a trip to the Holy Land many years ago I immersed myself in all things Muslim. I am still deeply saddened over how the radicals of Islam have altered forever what was once a religion of peace, one that valued "the people of the book" (meaning the Bible - Christians and Jews alike), and treated them with respect and tolerance.
Then it shifted to reading the New Testament and the Old Testament in depth as I taught the four-year series in gospel doctrine. I fell in love with the principal author of the New Testament, the Apostle Paul. He became a true hero to me. He helped me understand my Mormonism so much better than any other commentaries I had previously read. And conversely, Joseph Smith's writings helped me understand Paul better too. I have always found a marvelous harmony in Joseph and Paul.
Throughout all my explorations in the scriptures and amassing a library I have now mostly given away except for the treasured volumes I simply had to retain, The Book of Mormon continues to light my path. It is my considered belief that those who struggle most with the Church and with doctrine are not immersing themselves daily in the word of God as found in the standard works published by the Church.
Whatever your challenges may be, try this simple experiment. Take down that dusty volume, The Book of Mormon, from your bookshelf, or ask the Church to send you one for free (scroll down to the bottom of this blog and you will find the link). Then do this: For thirty days set aside a half hour and open the book to any page anywhere inside the covers and read at random. You can always go back later and read it from start to finish, but for the purpose of this exercise just thumb through the pages at random every day for thirty minutes. Don't miss a day. At the end of the thirty days see if your life hasn't been improved in some small way. See if ingesting God's word from those pages doesn't help you with whatever it is that is causing your malaise of spirit.
As I am His witness, I testify that The Book of Mormon is the word of God. It is truly a Second Witness of Jesus Christ. Almost any page will seal that testimony in your heart if you seek to know it in the sincerity of your search for truth. Your conversion will be in direct proportion to the degree of diligence you apply to this simple test. No one I know ever left this Church who was reading The Book of Mormon daily. It's such a simple spiritual antidote.
Dare to get converted, truly converted, and then stay converted. And continue in patience to reach out and love those around you who aren't so sure about that.
Showing posts with label true shepherd. Show all posts
Showing posts with label true shepherd. Show all posts
Saturday, December 5, 2015
Monday, February 7, 2011
God Succors His Children
January is traditionally the ward conference season in the Church. Mormons do meetings well. We slice and dice our meetings in lots of different ways -- by the general church membership, auxiliary conferences, priesthood meetings, regions, stakes, wards and branches. Meetings and conferences are us.
A few weeks ago we were attending a ward conference where a deeply devoted stake president was speaking. He told a story I want to share here because it demonstrated so beautifully the principle President Spencer W. Kimball taught many years ago:
“God does notice us, and he watches over us. But it is usually through another person that he meets our needs. Therefore, it is vital that we serve each other in the kingdom. The people of the Church need each other’s strength, support, and leadership in a community of believers as an enclave of disciples. In the Doctrine and Covenants we read about how important it is to ‘… succor the weak, lift up the hands which hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees.’ (D&C 81:5). So often, our acts of service consist of simple encouragement or of giving mundane help with mundane tasks, but what glorious consequences can flow from mundane acts and from small but deliberate deeds!” (Teachings of Presidents of the Church, 82).
This stake president is like so many priesthood and auxiliary leaders in the Church. He's an ordinary man, humble and possessed with a testimony of his Savior Jesus Christ that is clearly anchored in his heart and soul. They, like each of us, are undershepherds of the true Shepherd. Leaders in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are lay leaders drawn from their various congregations to serve for an undetermined period of years. They serve without compensation, meaning they are not paid in dollars, but I can attest they receive much more than they give because they serve their flocks with love and concern.
He told of going to a small town in northern Utah on a weekend road trip with his wife. While she was looking through antiques in a small shop, he was drawn to a used book store next door. He immediately had my attention. Nobody loves the bowels of Zion Book Store more than I. It's where I found my copy of Foxe's Book of Martyrs in that dingy basement catacomb -- original hard cover, perfect condition and I consider it a treasure of inestimable value. I love old book stores, just like this good man does.
As he wandered the aisles, he was drawn to a box that obviously contained a "quad" edition of the scriptures containing all the standard works we publish to the world as the collected canon of God's word -- the Holy Bible, the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, and the Pearl of Great Price. In one bound volume, he expected to find what he was looking for, since the box was clearly labeled and showed little sign of use. It was marked for sale for $5.
When he opened the box, however, he was surprised to discover an original patriarchal blessing with the signature of the patriarch who had lovingly prepared it for the recipient, a common practice in the Church. At the top was the name of a young woman, and all her personal information, including birthdate, an address and the names of her parents. He felt like someone who had just stumbled onto the scene of an accident, wanting to run away, but drawn mystically to what he held in his hands.
His dilemma was resolved when he heard a still small voice whisper softly to his heart, "Read it." It was two pages. As a stake president, he explained to his audience, he is at liberty to go to Church headquarters where copies of the patriarchal blessings of his stake members are deposited if he chooses to. He explained he had never done that, feeling he did not want to intrude on those sacred promises, considering them to be private and personal. He resisted the prompting to read it, then finally felt an urge to learn more and insert himself into the life that had been presented to him an a very innocuous happenstance not of his own making. The voice gently whispered, "She needs you."
As he read the two page blessing, he was drawn into the magnificent promises the patriarch had made to this daughter of our Heavenly Father. He knew the parents whose names appeared at the top of the blessing would be imagining the worst and probably needed comfort. It was obvious the scriptures had been a gift because there was an inscription in the front pages with loving counsel from her parents.
So a thousand thoughts then flooded his mind. Is she alive? Is she missing? Did she come to harm? Had she left the Church and renounced her faith? Were these spiritual treasures simply lost, misplaced or left behind and somehow mysteriously placed on the shelf where he found them? What was the answer? He wondered.
After standing and letting the Spirit soak over him in his quiet reflection, he decided to buy the book and the contents of the box - $5 for a set of scriptures and a patriarchal blessing was a small price to pay to return it if he could to this precious daughter of God. He felt like a messenger on a mission now.
He returned home the next day, but not before locating the parents in a town not far away from the bookstore. When he dialed a number he traced to the name and address on the patriarchal blessing, a female voice answered. "I'm calling for Susan (not her real name)," he sheepishly offered.
The woman responded, "She hasn't lived here for many years, may I ask who's calling?"
"I'm President Smith (not his real name)," he replied. "I am holding in my hand the quad set of the scriptures you must have given her, along with her patriarchal blessing, and I wanted to get it back to her if you can tell me how to contact her."
There was a long pause, then, "So, she gave that away too. . ." and her voice trailed off in tears.
He drove to their home later that night and visited with her parents. Susan had left home to go to school, and had cut off all contact with her parents. They didn't know where she was or what might have happened to her. Her spiritual heritage, represented by the book and the patriarchal blessing, had been rejected.
As Susan's mother lovingly stroked the leather binding with her daughter's name inscribed on the cover, then re-read Susan's blessing, her eyes filled with tears again. Here was the evidence suggesting what this dear mother had always hoped could not have happened. This grieving mother had not heard from her daughter for a number of years.
She thanked President Smith for his loving care of these priceless treasures. She told him she was still filled with hope that Susan would someday come home again to claim her spiritual inheritance.
President Smith testified to us that he was humbled to be the instrument in this experience. Like him, as the Spirit whispers to each of us, we may be also be called upon to help another in need. We are His hands here on earth to succor His children.
The Shepherd knows His sheep, and we are the undershepherds.
 |
| President Spencer W. Kimball |
“God does notice us, and he watches over us. But it is usually through another person that he meets our needs. Therefore, it is vital that we serve each other in the kingdom. The people of the Church need each other’s strength, support, and leadership in a community of believers as an enclave of disciples. In the Doctrine and Covenants we read about how important it is to ‘… succor the weak, lift up the hands which hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees.’ (D&C 81:5). So often, our acts of service consist of simple encouragement or of giving mundane help with mundane tasks, but what glorious consequences can flow from mundane acts and from small but deliberate deeds!” (Teachings of Presidents of the Church, 82).
This stake president is like so many priesthood and auxiliary leaders in the Church. He's an ordinary man, humble and possessed with a testimony of his Savior Jesus Christ that is clearly anchored in his heart and soul. They, like each of us, are undershepherds of the true Shepherd. Leaders in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are lay leaders drawn from their various congregations to serve for an undetermined period of years. They serve without compensation, meaning they are not paid in dollars, but I can attest they receive much more than they give because they serve their flocks with love and concern.
He told of going to a small town in northern Utah on a weekend road trip with his wife. While she was looking through antiques in a small shop, he was drawn to a used book store next door. He immediately had my attention. Nobody loves the bowels of Zion Book Store more than I. It's where I found my copy of Foxe's Book of Martyrs in that dingy basement catacomb -- original hard cover, perfect condition and I consider it a treasure of inestimable value. I love old book stores, just like this good man does.
As he wandered the aisles, he was drawn to a box that obviously contained a "quad" edition of the scriptures containing all the standard works we publish to the world as the collected canon of God's word -- the Holy Bible, the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, and the Pearl of Great Price. In one bound volume, he expected to find what he was looking for, since the box was clearly labeled and showed little sign of use. It was marked for sale for $5.
When he opened the box, however, he was surprised to discover an original patriarchal blessing with the signature of the patriarch who had lovingly prepared it for the recipient, a common practice in the Church. At the top was the name of a young woman, and all her personal information, including birthdate, an address and the names of her parents. He felt like someone who had just stumbled onto the scene of an accident, wanting to run away, but drawn mystically to what he held in his hands.
His dilemma was resolved when he heard a still small voice whisper softly to his heart, "Read it." It was two pages. As a stake president, he explained to his audience, he is at liberty to go to Church headquarters where copies of the patriarchal blessings of his stake members are deposited if he chooses to. He explained he had never done that, feeling he did not want to intrude on those sacred promises, considering them to be private and personal. He resisted the prompting to read it, then finally felt an urge to learn more and insert himself into the life that had been presented to him an a very innocuous happenstance not of his own making. The voice gently whispered, "She needs you."
As he read the two page blessing, he was drawn into the magnificent promises the patriarch had made to this daughter of our Heavenly Father. He knew the parents whose names appeared at the top of the blessing would be imagining the worst and probably needed comfort. It was obvious the scriptures had been a gift because there was an inscription in the front pages with loving counsel from her parents.
So a thousand thoughts then flooded his mind. Is she alive? Is she missing? Did she come to harm? Had she left the Church and renounced her faith? Were these spiritual treasures simply lost, misplaced or left behind and somehow mysteriously placed on the shelf where he found them? What was the answer? He wondered.
After standing and letting the Spirit soak over him in his quiet reflection, he decided to buy the book and the contents of the box - $5 for a set of scriptures and a patriarchal blessing was a small price to pay to return it if he could to this precious daughter of God. He felt like a messenger on a mission now.
He returned home the next day, but not before locating the parents in a town not far away from the bookstore. When he dialed a number he traced to the name and address on the patriarchal blessing, a female voice answered. "I'm calling for Susan (not her real name)," he sheepishly offered.
The woman responded, "She hasn't lived here for many years, may I ask who's calling?"
"I'm President Smith (not his real name)," he replied. "I am holding in my hand the quad set of the scriptures you must have given her, along with her patriarchal blessing, and I wanted to get it back to her if you can tell me how to contact her."
There was a long pause, then, "So, she gave that away too. . ." and her voice trailed off in tears.
He drove to their home later that night and visited with her parents. Susan had left home to go to school, and had cut off all contact with her parents. They didn't know where she was or what might have happened to her. Her spiritual heritage, represented by the book and the patriarchal blessing, had been rejected.
As Susan's mother lovingly stroked the leather binding with her daughter's name inscribed on the cover, then re-read Susan's blessing, her eyes filled with tears again. Here was the evidence suggesting what this dear mother had always hoped could not have happened. This grieving mother had not heard from her daughter for a number of years.
She thanked President Smith for his loving care of these priceless treasures. She told him she was still filled with hope that Susan would someday come home again to claim her spiritual inheritance.
President Smith testified to us that he was humbled to be the instrument in this experience. Like him, as the Spirit whispers to each of us, we may be also be called upon to help another in need. We are His hands here on earth to succor His children.
The Shepherd knows His sheep, and we are the undershepherds.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)