I was out last week at a family reunion, so did not post. While I was gone, Real Intent ran a great series on Addiction Recovery that is worth a look, even if you aren’t directly affected by addiction. There were four posts. (Ok, so I wrote two of them….)
A series at Real Intent on Addiction Recovery and the church’s 12-step program:
Addiction Recovery for Real Life
ARP and me
Addiction and Recovery Questions
Relapse, Repentance and Redemption
I hope you enjoy them.
Brief essays on my experience as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Mission Call Madness
A recent Salt Lake Tribune opinion piece about Bountiful HS grads who “announced” their mission calls as part of their graduation ceremony got me thinking about the mission call madness presently underway in Mormon culture.
Don’t get me wrong: a mission call is a big deal. And it’s awesome that so many young men and women are willing and able to serve.
But can I say I’m troubled by the increasing attention being paid to the opening of the call?
A thousand years ago when I received my mission call, it didn’t occur to me to wait to open it until my family and friends and neighbors could all be assembled to share in “my missionary moment.” I opened it at the mailbox (my girlfriend was there and she watched me open it; no, she didn’t “wait,” and yes, we did get married). And then I went inside and shared it with my mom. I don’t know if I called my dad at work or we waited until he got home to tell him. And then I probably called my brother and sisters. Others I informed by letter. (This was long before emails and Facebook.)
I remember a young man who was in my priest’s quorum when I was a bishop. He had matriculated to BYU, and received his call there. For the opening of his call, he’d arranged to Skype with his folks at home and had a room full of friends in Utah. He opened his call with the roomful of friends, only to realize he’d forgotten to link in to his home, so they agreed to re-stage the opening once the Skype connection was established for the benefit of the young man’s mother. (This story makes me think of that scene in Broadcast News when William Hurt re-films a news story in order to produce a tear in his news coverage.)
One doesn’t have to go far to find cinematic records of the opening of mission calls. Will these become the wedding videos of the latest generation?
Let’s think about the letter itself: a call to serve, a call issued by prophets, signed by a prophet, to serve the Lord in preaching his gospel. Most callings are extended privately, quietly, preceded by prayer in the best circumstances. But the mission call has become another rite of passage ripe for video post-production with music, subtitles and graphics, just like a wedding reception.
But shouldn’t we celebrate these callings? Shouldn’t we fete these young men and women who are so willing to serve? Shouldn’t we remember these great moments in their lives?
Sure. Celebrate them at home however you like. Open the call together. Congratulate the missionary and his or her parents. Share in the excitement at an exotic location or the relief at not having to learn a foreign language (or soothe the disappointment at a call to a different place than hoped). Share the results with family and friends.
But let’s remember: the significance of missionary service is not the call. It’s the work that follows the call. What’s impressive about a young person’s serving is not the call itself. It’s what that young person does before and after the call comes, the preparation and then the mission itself.
I’m all for celebrating missionary service. I’m all for hearing young missionaries speak before and after their missions (as long as those sacrament talks are appropriate for worship services). But just as we received counsel some time ago to curtail what was becoming sacrament meetings hijacked to fete the departing missionary, it seems we ought to lighten up in our over-the-top celebrations to open an envelope.
Don’t get me wrong: a mission call is a big deal. And it’s awesome that so many young men and women are willing and able to serve.
But can I say I’m troubled by the increasing attention being paid to the opening of the call?
A thousand years ago when I received my mission call, it didn’t occur to me to wait to open it until my family and friends and neighbors could all be assembled to share in “my missionary moment.” I opened it at the mailbox (my girlfriend was there and she watched me open it; no, she didn’t “wait,” and yes, we did get married). And then I went inside and shared it with my mom. I don’t know if I called my dad at work or we waited until he got home to tell him. And then I probably called my brother and sisters. Others I informed by letter. (This was long before emails and Facebook.)
I remember a young man who was in my priest’s quorum when I was a bishop. He had matriculated to BYU, and received his call there. For the opening of his call, he’d arranged to Skype with his folks at home and had a room full of friends in Utah. He opened his call with the roomful of friends, only to realize he’d forgotten to link in to his home, so they agreed to re-stage the opening once the Skype connection was established for the benefit of the young man’s mother. (This story makes me think of that scene in Broadcast News when William Hurt re-films a news story in order to produce a tear in his news coverage.)
One doesn’t have to go far to find cinematic records of the opening of mission calls. Will these become the wedding videos of the latest generation?
Let’s think about the letter itself: a call to serve, a call issued by prophets, signed by a prophet, to serve the Lord in preaching his gospel. Most callings are extended privately, quietly, preceded by prayer in the best circumstances. But the mission call has become another rite of passage ripe for video post-production with music, subtitles and graphics, just like a wedding reception.
But shouldn’t we celebrate these callings? Shouldn’t we fete these young men and women who are so willing to serve? Shouldn’t we remember these great moments in their lives?
Sure. Celebrate them at home however you like. Open the call together. Congratulate the missionary and his or her parents. Share in the excitement at an exotic location or the relief at not having to learn a foreign language (or soothe the disappointment at a call to a different place than hoped). Share the results with family and friends.
But let’s remember: the significance of missionary service is not the call. It’s the work that follows the call. What’s impressive about a young person’s serving is not the call itself. It’s what that young person does before and after the call comes, the preparation and then the mission itself.
I’m all for celebrating missionary service. I’m all for hearing young missionaries speak before and after their missions (as long as those sacrament talks are appropriate for worship services). But just as we received counsel some time ago to curtail what was becoming sacrament meetings hijacked to fete the departing missionary, it seems we ought to lighten up in our over-the-top celebrations to open an envelope.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Spiritual Mentors
The kernel of the idea for this post came from a comment over at Real Intent. In response to a discussion about asking the right questions, commenter Brenda wrote, “In conversation with a spiritual mentor I was asked to…”
I was intrigued with the idea of a spiritual mentor and began to reflect about my own life and to wonder if I had spiritual mentors, and if those mentors would even know who they were.
I have never had a formal mentor in any setting. At work I’ve had a few people that I call on occasionally for advice on career development matters, so I feel like they mentor me, but we don’t have a formal relationship around that mentoring. Similarly, at church I have not consciously entered into a formal mentoring relationship with anyone, though there are those I have looked to for guidance and counsel on spiritual things. Those have included over the years:
1. Ecclesiastical leaders – I’ve counseled with bishops and stake presidents, particularly in relation to my callings or when I’ve had specific questions (usually about my family) for which I wanted their counsel and advice.
2. Family members – I have gone to my parents when they were alive and to my siblings for advice on specific matters. My father and my father-in-law were particularly valuable sounding boards when they were still alive.
3. Friends – once in a while I’ve felt close enough with someone – usually someone with whom I’ve served – to ask for advice on a spiritual matter. It may have been a gospel question or a particular decision I’m trying to make an with which I’m struggling to get an answer.
4. My spouse – I value my wife’s view very highly. She is thoughtful and actively seeks the Lord’s influence in her life; she actively seeks the guidance of the spirit as a parent and in her callings. I will talk to her about questions I have or thoughts I’m considering to get her point of view.
Interestingly, missing from my spiritual mentors list are home teachers. I’ve never felt that closeness, and I’ve always felt my home teachers are for my family, not for me alone. That’s probably not completely reasonable thinking on my part, especially thinking back on the quality of my home teachers (excellent!) and their dedication (also excellent!) over time.
I’ve thought about why I haven’t had specific spiritual mentors, and I can think of a few reasons, some cultural and some more doctrinal:
1. We value self-reliance. For as long as I can remember we’ve taught self-reliance in the church. We teach Moroni 10 and D&C 6, 8 and 9 – we can get our answers to prayer, our own revelation. We were actively taught for a number of years in our area to “get off the bishop’s worry list,” which most of us translated as being spiritually self-reliant. While I agree it’s good for the bishop to have fewer people on his worry list, it’s probably not accurate to think in terms of spiritual self-reliance since we all are reliant upon the Savior and his atoning sacrifice for our redemption.
2. There’s no calling of mentor. In the church we are happy to sustain people in the positions to which they have been called. We answer assignments from priesthood leaders because we sustain them. We prepare for Sunday School class because we sustain the teacher. We sing in the choir because we sustain the choir director. If someone is called to lead us, we follow. But rarely do we follow someone who is not called to lead us. We don’t appoint ourselves over others, and we don’t appoint others over ourselves. As I mentioned above, a home- or visiting-teacher might naturally fit in a mentoring role, but I’ve never had that experience, either as a home teacher or a home teachee.
3. We’re all alike. Because we are a lay church, we accept that we’re more or less all the same. Some of us are called to lead the rest of us from time to time, but otherwise we’re pretty similar. There are obvious differences: new members may feel less prepared than more seasoned ones. Members returning to activity after a long time away may feel more like new members. But except for temporary differences in callings, we’re all pretty much cut from the same cloth, so we don’t naturally assume that we can be mentored by someone else or that we could mentor someone else.
4. Those who do have more experience or wisdom (read: who are older) are also busy. There are some wise folks in our wards, people who have been around the block, who have been where we are at one point of another. But often they are the busy ones, either serving in high-pressure callings or having high-pressure situations at home. So we’re reluctant to reach out and seek their mentoring wisdom. Or maybe we’re just embarrassed to ask for help and we use their potential busy-ness as an excuse.
That said, I think there’s potential value in mentors in the church. Certainly for new members or members in transition (think Young Women moving into Relief Society or Young Men moving into the Elders Quorum), a mentor fills that role of Friend that President Hinckley said we all need. But even more established members can benefit from a listening ear, an understanding heart and wise experience.
Sometimes we draw that wisdom and counsel out of general circumstances to apply to our specific situations. We apply the teachings of a conference talk or a Relief Society lesson to our own lives.
But sometimes it would be nice to have that relationship that a mentor could provide – a regular sounding board as we navigate unknown waters, a voice of experience as we face new things, an alternate point of view as we evaluate options.
Of course there are some risks. A mentor cannot and should not take the place of personal revelation. Nor should the mentor replace the inspired counsel of a loving priesthood leader who has keys and responsibility. (I heard that second idea reinforced in recent seminary teacher training I attended. We were reminded that seminary teachers are not to replace bishops in the lives of their students, but should point students to their priesthood leaders. I’m aware that the professionals at LDS Family Services are trained to do the same.)
Have you had spiritual mentors in your life?
I was intrigued with the idea of a spiritual mentor and began to reflect about my own life and to wonder if I had spiritual mentors, and if those mentors would even know who they were.
I have never had a formal mentor in any setting. At work I’ve had a few people that I call on occasionally for advice on career development matters, so I feel like they mentor me, but we don’t have a formal relationship around that mentoring. Similarly, at church I have not consciously entered into a formal mentoring relationship with anyone, though there are those I have looked to for guidance and counsel on spiritual things. Those have included over the years:
1. Ecclesiastical leaders – I’ve counseled with bishops and stake presidents, particularly in relation to my callings or when I’ve had specific questions (usually about my family) for which I wanted their counsel and advice.
2. Family members – I have gone to my parents when they were alive and to my siblings for advice on specific matters. My father and my father-in-law were particularly valuable sounding boards when they were still alive.
3. Friends – once in a while I’ve felt close enough with someone – usually someone with whom I’ve served – to ask for advice on a spiritual matter. It may have been a gospel question or a particular decision I’m trying to make an with which I’m struggling to get an answer.
4. My spouse – I value my wife’s view very highly. She is thoughtful and actively seeks the Lord’s influence in her life; she actively seeks the guidance of the spirit as a parent and in her callings. I will talk to her about questions I have or thoughts I’m considering to get her point of view.
Interestingly, missing from my spiritual mentors list are home teachers. I’ve never felt that closeness, and I’ve always felt my home teachers are for my family, not for me alone. That’s probably not completely reasonable thinking on my part, especially thinking back on the quality of my home teachers (excellent!) and their dedication (also excellent!) over time.
I’ve thought about why I haven’t had specific spiritual mentors, and I can think of a few reasons, some cultural and some more doctrinal:
1. We value self-reliance. For as long as I can remember we’ve taught self-reliance in the church. We teach Moroni 10 and D&C 6, 8 and 9 – we can get our answers to prayer, our own revelation. We were actively taught for a number of years in our area to “get off the bishop’s worry list,” which most of us translated as being spiritually self-reliant. While I agree it’s good for the bishop to have fewer people on his worry list, it’s probably not accurate to think in terms of spiritual self-reliance since we all are reliant upon the Savior and his atoning sacrifice for our redemption.
2. There’s no calling of mentor. In the church we are happy to sustain people in the positions to which they have been called. We answer assignments from priesthood leaders because we sustain them. We prepare for Sunday School class because we sustain the teacher. We sing in the choir because we sustain the choir director. If someone is called to lead us, we follow. But rarely do we follow someone who is not called to lead us. We don’t appoint ourselves over others, and we don’t appoint others over ourselves. As I mentioned above, a home- or visiting-teacher might naturally fit in a mentoring role, but I’ve never had that experience, either as a home teacher or a home teachee.
3. We’re all alike. Because we are a lay church, we accept that we’re more or less all the same. Some of us are called to lead the rest of us from time to time, but otherwise we’re pretty similar. There are obvious differences: new members may feel less prepared than more seasoned ones. Members returning to activity after a long time away may feel more like new members. But except for temporary differences in callings, we’re all pretty much cut from the same cloth, so we don’t naturally assume that we can be mentored by someone else or that we could mentor someone else.
4. Those who do have more experience or wisdom (read: who are older) are also busy. There are some wise folks in our wards, people who have been around the block, who have been where we are at one point of another. But often they are the busy ones, either serving in high-pressure callings or having high-pressure situations at home. So we’re reluctant to reach out and seek their mentoring wisdom. Or maybe we’re just embarrassed to ask for help and we use their potential busy-ness as an excuse.
That said, I think there’s potential value in mentors in the church. Certainly for new members or members in transition (think Young Women moving into Relief Society or Young Men moving into the Elders Quorum), a mentor fills that role of Friend that President Hinckley said we all need. But even more established members can benefit from a listening ear, an understanding heart and wise experience.
Sometimes we draw that wisdom and counsel out of general circumstances to apply to our specific situations. We apply the teachings of a conference talk or a Relief Society lesson to our own lives.
But sometimes it would be nice to have that relationship that a mentor could provide – a regular sounding board as we navigate unknown waters, a voice of experience as we face new things, an alternate point of view as we evaluate options.
Of course there are some risks. A mentor cannot and should not take the place of personal revelation. Nor should the mentor replace the inspired counsel of a loving priesthood leader who has keys and responsibility. (I heard that second idea reinforced in recent seminary teacher training I attended. We were reminded that seminary teachers are not to replace bishops in the lives of their students, but should point students to their priesthood leaders. I’m aware that the professionals at LDS Family Services are trained to do the same.)
Have you had spiritual mentors in your life?
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Revisiting electronic scriptures
Some time ago, MMM did a great post on electronic vs paper scriptures and I joined in the discussion, as well. I’ve had some subsequent thoughts, particularly after the recent Leadership Broadcast on missionary work in which Elder Perry announced a significant increase in electronic media use by missionaries in the future.
The topic came up in a seminary teacher’s training meeting I attended last weekend, and our CES coordinator indicated that there is no policy on electronic scripture use in the seminary classroom. It’s up to individual teachers to decide how to use them (or whether to use them at all).
Here are some thoughts that came up in the discussion we had, and some of my own thoughts, as well:
- Most young people in the United States are going to encounter electronic scriptures at one time or another. And they will learn how to use them whether we teach them how in church or not. They are just smart that way. Those scriptures may be on a Kindle or a smart phone or an iPad or a laptop, but they’re going to run into them. They may use them for personal study, in church (because the electronic gadget is easier to carry than the scripture block), in family study or somewhere else. But most will learn at least how to access the scriptures.
- There is value in teaching young people the best way to use the tools at their disposal. Although they may stumble upon the features of whatever scripture app they have, there’s some value in showing them all it can do. I don’t know that seminary is the place to do that. Maybe it’s better taught at home in FHE or in Sunday School or somewhere else.
- Young people will sometime need to learn how to use their electronic devices for scripture study without being distracted by other things on the electronic device. There’s little doubt that initially they will be tempted to do all sorts of things with a hand-held device: text, play games, surf the net, etc., when they should be reading the scriptures. In that way they are no different from me! And part of that maturing process is learning to control the urge to surf when they should be studying. In the end, it will be tough to force someone to learn that lesson, and yet they will still need to learn.
- Even though missionaries will use electronic media, there is still a place for paper scriptures. Some may be “old school” enough to want to study from them for the same reason some of the oldsters I know want to: the feel of paper on skin is important to them; marking them is easy; seeing the notes made while marking is easy; seeing where a verse is on the page is important in remembering it, its context and its placement in the book. (Just because calculators are ubiquitous, we still teach kids to add, after all!)
- Even if missionaries use electronic tools, they’re still likely to teach from paper scriptures. I imagine we’ll still be giving away paper copies of the Book of Mormon for years to come, and there’s some value in a missionary’s knowing his or her way around it. Even if missionaries have some version of an iPad with videos and other media for teaching, it’s easy to imagine they’ll also use paper scriptures when teaching. And missionaries who serve in outlying areas without easy high-speed connections or without easy re-charging facilities will benefit from paper “back-up” scriptures.
We had some teachers in the four-stake training that have their kids use electronic scriptures regularly. And we have others who have them check them at the door. The class I team taught this past quarter was all paper (except me; I taught with my electronic version).
Monday, July 1, 2013
Let's talk about sex
We had an awesome 5th Sunday lesson
yesterday. Our bishop taught us about
teaching our children about sex.
Well, in fairness, he led with the law of chastity. He observed that some of our youth could not
adequately describe the law of chastity in a temple recommend interview. (And he acknowledged that especially the
younger youth could well be uncomfortable being asked to do so.)
He cited an awesome talk from Elder Ballard from the October2009 General Conference Priesthood Session in which he said,
I am especially concerned that we communicate openly and clearly with our sons about sexual matters. Your sons are growing up in a world that openly embraces and flaunts early, casual, and thoughtless promiscuity. Your sons simply cannot avoid the blatant sexual imagery, messages, and enticements that are all around them. Fathers and Church leaders need to have open and frequent discussions that teach and clarify how young men of the priesthood handle this issue. Be positive about how wonderful and beautiful physical intimacy can be when it happens within the bounds the Lord has set, including temple covenants and commitments of eternal marriage. Studies show that the biggest deterrent to casual sexual activity is a wholesome attitude that connects such personal relationships with genuine commitment and mature love. Fathers, if you have not had this “big talk” with your sons, please do so, and do it soon.
Our bishop naturally extended this discussion to include
mothers and daughters and fathers and daughters and mothers and sons, as well
as others who may have influence in a young person’s life.
In the ensuring discussion, we agreed that we need to start
early, that one “big talk” is not enough, and that our children will be taught
even if we choose not to do it, so it’s wise for parents to get their story in
front of their kids early and often.
Our bishop referred us to A Parent’s Guide, available at
lds.org ,
which offers excellent age-appropriate developmental information and teaching
recommendations. I first read A Parent’s
Guide twenty years ago (it’s been around for nearly thirty), and we’ve referred
to it many times in our parenting journey.
Another incredible resource he pointed us to was
completely new to me. Nearly hidden away
at the Mormon Channel is a series of videos about how and why to teach our
children these things. It’s called
Family Conversations: Talking About Healthy Sexuality, and you can find the
videos here. The videos are moderated by a professional at LDS Family Services, and the two
respondents are an LDS family therapist and a BYU professor.
And by the way, despite my post’s title, it’s about much
more than sex. It’s about intimacy,
covenants, the Plan of Salvation, The Family: A Proclamation, our covenant relationship
to our Father in Heaven and more.
And that’s the point.
This particular video (click here) was especially poignant to me. In it we learn that studies show that when we
teach our children about healthy sexuality, we help to protect them from abuse
and from pornography. And we also learn
that our kids want the straight scoop, not just veiled metaphors in tired and
worn out object lessons.
I’ve been a dad for 32 years, and I think we’ve done
pretty well a lot of the time on this front.
But not always. And I’m still
learning. And I’m thrilled by the
resources that are available to us today.
(By the way, our awesome bishop also shared information
about the church’s websites for addiction recovery, overcoming pornography and dealing
with same-sex attraction.)
Monday, June 24, 2013
The Big Meeting
Like many others, I watched the leadership training broadcast yesterday afternoon, and like some I watched it at home. (No one but me got the comfort of my General Conference La-Z-Boy seat.)
I did not have huge expectations of great new innovations in the missionary program of the church. (It’s easy to say that after the fact, of course!) I was a little amused by some predictions of what would be announced at the meeting, or what people hoped would be announced.
In the end, the key messages of this meeting were not a lot different from similar meetings in the past: Missionary Work is one part of the work of Salvation. It is not the only part or the most important part, and it cannot be separated from the other parts. Do it. Do it now. And do lots of it. And don’t limit your efforts to finding new people to teach; work on re-finding those sheep who have been lost. And work on getting them all to the temple.
Oh, and we have lots more missionaries. And they’ll do some things a little differently as time goes on, making use of more modern equipment.
But You (meaning Me): get out of that La-Z-Boy and get to work.
It comes as no surprise that the message doesn’t change much. One Eternal Round and all that. And it comes as no surprise that there are some innovations (lower entry ages, electronic media, chapel tours).
What I also found wonderful was just watching Elder Holland conduct the meeting, watching him interact personally with the video “guests” from outside Provo, and having him share his testimony of this incredible work. Seeing that enormous missionary choir was really impressive. I felt sorry for those mission presidents and their wives, and I wondered how many sessions they had already sat through that day and how overwhelmed they might be as they drink from the firehose.
I remember first learning really about the “Unified Effort” when I was a bishop in South America. Our mission president was in our ward, and he taught us well the value of the ward council in helping people to stay active once baptized. We had two ward councils a month to keep track of our 75+/year converts. It was really impressive to see the whole ward council pull together to help these new converts stay active in the gospel (and that ward council was pretty successful at it, too).
The same theme was repeated when I was a bishop in the US when President Hinckley gave his famous “double the number of baptisms” fireside. But the principles were the same. Every new convert needs a friend, a responsibility and to be nurtured by the good word of God. That message certainly has not changed.
I’ve participated in various church councils since I served as a Deacon’s Quorum president over 40 years ago. I learned then what I know now: we almost never need a “new” program to do the work. We need to do the work. Yes, there will be minor shifts in focus from time to time. New tools may be available to aid us in the effort. But in the end, the work of salvation is one-on-one, face-to-face. An old Sting song years ago proclaimed, “Men go crazy in congregations; they only get better one by one.” (Not that I take all my gospel teaching from rock stars, mind you.)
So why such a big meeting to preach a message that has been preached before? I can think of several reasons:
- We need to be taught and re-taught. If we got things right the first time around, there would be no need for repentance. And President Packer (bless him!) taught us again in this meeting, we all need repentance.
- There are new people hearing this message for the first time. All those fresh-faced missionaries in the Marriott Center are new to this work. They didn’t see Elder Packer teach the 3-fold mission of the church in the 1980’s, nor hear the brethren teach the unified effort in the 1990s. And they’re not the only ones. Many members of ward and stake councils -- especially in growing areas of the church -- are new to this part of the work, and they are hearing this for the first time.
- There is value in hearing renewed testimony of eternal things. If it were not so, why would we have General Conference twice a year? Why would we have fast & testimony meeting once a month? Each time we hear truth, we have an opportunity for the spirit to touch our hearts.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
"We're just like you."
We had a special stake conference this past weekend. Four general authorities (including an apostle, one of the presidents of the Seventy, another member of the Seventy and a counselor in the Presiding Bishopric) were in our state for a Priesthood Leadership Council on Saturday (a meeting with stake presidencies, bishops and perhaps other priesthood leaders from across the state), and then they fanned out over four stakes for special stake conferences on Sunday.
Our visitor was Bishop Davies, second counselor in the Presiding Bishopric. I didn’t know anything about him before he spoke to us. It turns out that for the decade prior to his call to serve in the Presiding Bishopric, he worked finding land for all those temples the church is building. And he had some cool stories to tell us about his interactions with President Hinckley on the site in Paris, and with the mayor of Philadelphia regarding the site there.
But those stories are not the point of this post. Instead it’s two other things that struck me.
First, he mentioned that in his role in the Presiding Bishopric he meets with the First Presidency every week. For last meeting before coming to our conference, President Eyring and President Uchtdorf were absent, and they met just with President Monson. Bishop Davies observed that he often reminds himself that it is a privilege that the vast majority of Latter-day Saints will never know: meeting the prophet face-to-face. I was heartened by his acknowledgement of that fact.
I’ve never met President Monson, though I have shaken hands with President Eyring and President Uchtdorf, both long before they served in the First Presidency (and perhaps before their call to the Quorum of the Twelve). And I’ve shaken hands with a couple of other apostles in my life, in connection with meetings where they spoke and shook hands with many people. I have no doubt they have no recollection of me, even though I remember the circumstances of each of those meetings clearly.
The other thing Bishop Davies said that touched me was really tender. He was speaking about his own family and told of a family member who had become distant from the church despite years of activity and parental teaching. He spoke of his love for this member of his family, and his acceptance of the circumstances. And he said something like, “So you see, even general authorities have similar struggles to yours. We’re just like you.”
And, though it’s true that he’s not like me because he meets weekly with the Lord’s prophet, I believe he is more like me that I would have imagined. And I’m grateful to learn from his example.
Our visitor was Bishop Davies, second counselor in the Presiding Bishopric. I didn’t know anything about him before he spoke to us. It turns out that for the decade prior to his call to serve in the Presiding Bishopric, he worked finding land for all those temples the church is building. And he had some cool stories to tell us about his interactions with President Hinckley on the site in Paris, and with the mayor of Philadelphia regarding the site there.
But those stories are not the point of this post. Instead it’s two other things that struck me.
First, he mentioned that in his role in the Presiding Bishopric he meets with the First Presidency every week. For last meeting before coming to our conference, President Eyring and President Uchtdorf were absent, and they met just with President Monson. Bishop Davies observed that he often reminds himself that it is a privilege that the vast majority of Latter-day Saints will never know: meeting the prophet face-to-face. I was heartened by his acknowledgement of that fact.
I’ve never met President Monson, though I have shaken hands with President Eyring and President Uchtdorf, both long before they served in the First Presidency (and perhaps before their call to the Quorum of the Twelve). And I’ve shaken hands with a couple of other apostles in my life, in connection with meetings where they spoke and shook hands with many people. I have no doubt they have no recollection of me, even though I remember the circumstances of each of those meetings clearly.
The other thing Bishop Davies said that touched me was really tender. He was speaking about his own family and told of a family member who had become distant from the church despite years of activity and parental teaching. He spoke of his love for this member of his family, and his acceptance of the circumstances. And he said something like, “So you see, even general authorities have similar struggles to yours. We’re just like you.”
And, though it’s true that he’s not like me because he meets weekly with the Lord’s prophet, I believe he is more like me that I would have imagined. And I’m grateful to learn from his example.
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