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Ministering
Nephi's "burning love"
It's amazing how much we can learn from a story the second time it's told. Details and viewpoints you missed entirely the first go-round tend to come out in subsequent tellings (like Joseph Smith's First Vision). You may not have caught it, but this month in Come, Follow Me, we're reading one such re-telling that teaches us some important truths about love-- what it is and what it isn't. Perfect for Valentine's Day.
You're not ready for Zion if you won't even clean the building
On June 5, 1976, Idaho's Teton Dam broke, sending a massive wall of water fifteen feet high over the valley below. The 80 million gallons of water that rushed over Sugar City and Rexburg carried away houses, demolished businesses, and covered the whole community in a thick layer of rancid muck. Pres. Henry B. Eyring, then president of Ricks College (now BYU-I) noticed that some individuals went to work and became heroes to their fellow men, while others ran from every opportunity to serve, betraying their wards, quorums, and even their own family members to the disaster. Being an analytical businessman, Pres. Eyring performed "a small but scientifically significant study" into why some people rose up while others ran away. What he found was very interesting
Until the day I die
I loved the second area of my mission. The Bishop was engaged in missionary work, the ward mission leader was a rock star, and the members were warm and accepting. It was really awesome-- definitely one of the highlights of my whole mission. I was there quite a while; I spent 6 months (and 5 companions) in that ward. But no matter how awesome an area is, you can still burn out.
The last calling we receive
Three weeks ago, my wife and I received a phone call. Hope, my 57-year-old mother-in-law, had run out of chemotherapy options and was starting in-home hospice. Doctors estimated she had only a few weeks left. Hope wanted to hug her grandchildren again while she could, so we loaded the kids in the car and began the eight-hour journey to North Carolina. Two hours away from my in-laws' house, we received another call. Hope's condition had deteriorated rapidly. She was unconscious and gasping for breath. My wife joined a video call and pleaded with her mother to hold on just a few more hours so she could give her one last hug. But Hope couldn't hold on any longer.
The gift of our calling
It was five years, almost to the day, but if you saw a picture of that Bishop from the start of his term, you'd be forgiven for thinking 15 or 20 years had passed. The marital disputes, the midnight runs to the chapel to forestall eviction, and the last-second interviews had taken their toll on both his hairline and his beltline. "Busy as a man can be," indeed. But finally, it was time to pass the baton. The new Bishop took the stand to bear his testimony. "Brothers and sisters, during this season of the year we express gratitude for gifts. I want to start by thanking our Bishop for the gift of his devoted service in our ward." A moment of silence follows-- the Latter-day Saint chapel equivalent to hearty applause. "I thank my wife and children for the gift of accepting the call to sustain me without hesitation." Another well-deserved round of silent mental clapping. "And I especially want to thank God for His gift of calling to me to be the new Bishop." Wait... what?
Trials that harden, trials that soften
2020 wasn't the dumpster fire everyone makes it out to be, but it has been a roller coaster year. COVID, lockdowns and their religious liberty concerns, and the most contentious election of my lifetime. Thankfully, my ward has been less affected than many. Very few members got sick and no one died. Most members were able to work remotely. Our state eased restrictions earlier than others, allowing us to resume in-person Church meetings with proper safety measures after just a few months. On the political front, our members have largely refrained from "political statements and unkind references in our Church meetings" (so far). We are truly very blessed, and things seem to be returning to at least a semblance of normalcy. However, in my ward and thousands of wards like it, we are noticing that while circumstances are returning to normal, we as a people are very different from how we were one year ago. And in some ways, that scares us.
Sorry Lord, could you repeat that?
This past week in Come, Follow Me, we read "the crowning event recorded in the Book of Mormon," the "personal ministry of the Lord Jesus Christ among the Nephites soon after His resurrection." After 600 years, the Nephites were finally privileged to stand in the presence of their Lord and Savior. You would think that Christ would be met with joyful, anticipated celebration. But that's not what happened at all. In fact, when the time came, it just really didn't click at first.
What is this thing you call "success?"
Once they were "the very vilest of sinners," but a visit from an angel and a long time of anguished repentance transformed the sons of Mosiah into righteous missionaries:They were desirous that salvation should be declared to every creature, for they could not bear that any human soul should perish... They had waxed strong in the knowledge of the truth; for they were men of a sound understanding and they had searched the scriptures diligently, that they might know the word of God... They had given themselves to much prayer, and fasting; therefore they had the spirit of prophecy, and the spirit of revelation, and when they taught, they taught with power and authority of God.All the sons of Mosiah were righteous and faithful. And when they left on their mission to the Lamanites, they all received a divine promise of success and the "salvation of many souls." And yet they had very different mission experiences at first.
You are unqualified for your calling (and that's OK)
When I was little, I thought missionaries were basically superheroes. I pictured stalwart, obedient, faithful young men and women going all over the world, guided by the Spirit and teaching the truth in majesty and power, saving souls like a spiritual Superman. But then I went on a mission and learned that you can take a teenager to the temple, endow him with power from on high, set him apart from the world, commission him as a duly ordained minister and representative of Christ, put a name tag on him, and send him out with the Spirit... but a teenager will still be a teenager. Laziness, apathy, rebelliousness, phone addictions, slacking off, hormones, and general stupidity abound in the mission field just as they do at home. Having worked closely with missionaries both on and off my own mission, I think it's safe to say that across the board, teenagers just aren't qualified to be missionaries. In fact, I would dare say no one is qualified to be a missionary. Or an Elders Quorum President. Or a Bishop. Or the Prophet. We are all every one of us supremely unqualified for the job.
Unwearyingness
Christ gave His chosen Twelve Disciples in both continents a rare opportunity. One by one, he asked them "What is it that ye desire of me, after that I am gone to the Father?" Eleven of the Jewish Disciples and nine of the Nephite Disciples asked for the same thing: We desire that after we have lived unto the age of man, that our ministry, wherein thou hast called us, may have an end, that we may speedily come unto thee in thy kingdom.But John and three unnamed Nephites requested to remain on the earth and serve the Lord long after their natural lifespans. I used to wonder why the disciples were not unanimous in asking for that blessing. After all, who wouldn't want to be a missionary forever?
Let's be anxious. Let's be devastated. Then let's do something about it
In chapter 6 of Moroni, we get a glimpse of what it was like to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Nephite Saints:And the church did meet together oft, to fast and to pray, and to speak one with another concerning the welfare of their souls.In the Church today, you'll see a lot of fasting (like today). You'll see a lot of praying. And you'll probably see a little too much speaking one with another. But how often do we speak to each other about the welfare of our souls?
Ministering: less talk, more action
A few weeks ago, I was called to be the ward mission leader. Since then, I have been pondering what I need to do to magnify my calling. I have served with many different ward mission leaders both on and off my mission. Some jumped in with the missionaries. Others never learned the missionaries' names. Some rarely missed an opportunity to attend teaching appointments. Others rarely attended Church itself. Some were overbearing in their calling. Others couldn't bear to be in their calling. It's a wide spectrum. So how does the Lord want me to serve? What should my focus be? How can I put new energy into visiting the "same ten people?" Or do we need a new approach entirely? These are weighty questions on my mind. I've been trying to discern how Christ wants me to serve in this capacity.