- Noah was a drunk
- Abraham was too old
- Isaac was a daydreamer
- Jacob was a liar
- Leah was ugly
- Joseph was abused
- Moses had a stuttering problem
- Gideon was afraid
- Samson had long hair and was a womanizer
- Rahab was a prostitute
- Jeremiah and Timothy were too young
- David had an affair and was a murderer
- Elijah was suicidal
- Isaiah preached naked
- Jonah ran from God
- Naomi was a widow
- Job went bankrupt
- Peter denied Christ
- The Disciples fell asleep while praying
- Martha worried about everything
- The Samaritan woman was divorced, more than once
- Zaccheus was too small
- Paul was over zealous
- Timothy had an ulcer..AND
- Lazarus was dead!
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
God Chooses Men Based on The Inner Vessel
God Chooses Men To Serve Based On The Inner Vessel
Not what they are but what they can Become
It is the lesson of "The Cracked Pot."
Many years ago, in a very poor Middle East village, stood an ancient stone well. Along side of that well sat two large watering pots. One of them was like new, beautifully formed, even had graceful etchings along its curved handle.
The other, not as new yet still useful,
You see, it had become cracked over the years.
Time after time, the pot was passed over by the people with the exception of a little village girl. She had grown fond of the neglected pitcher.
Every day she would chose it instead of the beautiful pot.
One morning, the old pot asked the little girl, "Why do you continue to use me, when you know I am flawed and cannot hold the water you and your family so desperately needs?"
The little girl spoke not a word, but carried the broken pot to a familiar pathway that she traveled daily.
With her tiny voice she said, "This is why I pick you."
There before the pot was a row of delicate wild flowers that had bloomed along the trail because of the water that had trickled and leaked from the pot. The buried seeds of the flowers had been watered as she made her way home each day. The cracked pot for the first time had seen its worth through the eyes of a grateful little girl.
In order to see the task the Lord would have us or others fulfill he has admonished us to become as little children.
Matthew 18:4
"And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.
Monday, January 23, 2012
As A Young Man The World Is For The Taking
As a young man,
I thought myself happy at the time, my head full
of every popular song that came along, the future
before me. I could be an artist, a great novelist, an
architect, a senator, a singer: having no demonstrable
capacity for any of these pursuits made them all
appear equally possible to me. All that mattered, I
felt, was my inclination; I saw life as a set of free
choices. Only later did it occur to me that every
road taken is another untaken, every choice a narrowing.
A sadder maturity convinces me that, as
in a chess game, every move helps commit one to
the next, and each person’s situation at a given
moment is the sum of the moves he has made before.
By Thomas Griffith "New York Times"
I thought myself happy at the time, my head full
of every popular song that came along, the future
before me. I could be an artist, a great novelist, an
architect, a senator, a singer: having no demonstrable
capacity for any of these pursuits made them all
appear equally possible to me. All that mattered, I
felt, was my inclination; I saw life as a set of free
choices. Only later did it occur to me that every
road taken is another untaken, every choice a narrowing.
A sadder maturity convinces me that, as
in a chess game, every move helps commit one to
the next, and each person’s situation at a given
moment is the sum of the moves he has made before.
By Thomas Griffith "New York Times"
Giving and Getting F. Burton Howard
Throughout our years at the university, and for a considerable time thereafter, my wife and I lived in a congested area near downtown Salt Lake City. After graduating from law school, I was fortunate in obtaining a job at the state capitol. Church callings and the proximity of our home to my office caused us to be in no hurry to leave our small apartment, even had our financial situation allowed us to. One of the economies which my wife allowed me to practice was walking to work. The distance was not too great and the Capitol Hill climb kept me fit.
One brilliant, warm day, I had come home for lunch. As I was returning to work I noticed a small boy sitting on the curb at the foot of the hill. I knew him by sight as a neighbor who lived in a large apartment house next door to us. His parents were divorced. His mother worked and often left him alone in the afternoon to look after himself. As I was in no hurry to begin my ascent, I stopped to talk with him for a moment.
"What are you doing?" I said.
"Waiting for my brother."
"Where is he?" I asked as I contemplated the hot climb up the hill. His answer brought me immediately to attention.
"He's in school."
"Don't you know that school isn't out until 3:30?" I gently asked.
He shuffled his toe in the dirt of the street and looked at me with what I am now positive was condescension. "Sure," he said, "but I don't want to miss him."
"Maybe the kid had a point," I thought as I climbed the hill. And I have pondered his statement many times since that day.
Of course he did. Whatever his reason for wanting his brother--whether for love or loneliness or just to deliver a family message--it was of sufficient importance for him to wait on the curb at the side of a hot street all afternoon. He was not going to miss his brother, whatever the discomfort or whatever the cost. He had nothing more important to do.
Giving and Getting
It is difficult to sit in the sun on a street corner when all the world is hell-bent on seeking shade. But, as with many other things, it is where you sit that counts--or where you stand--or what you stand for. And with some things there is nothing more important to do than pay the price; even though it entails inconvenience or sacrifice.
Before getting much older, my young friend would find no shortage of those who would tell him he paid too much to see his brother that hot afternoon.
"Don't be dumb," they would say.
"You could have watched television until just before school let out."
Or they would say, "You should have stayed in the shade at home, instead of sitting on that dusty old curb."
"Be smart," they would say. "Don't give more than you have to, just to see your brother."
But did he give too much? Was he just a naïve little boy? Can we learn something from him? To simplify the subject, let me suggest that the real question on that street corner was how much to give in exchange for his brother's company that hot afternoon.
This question perhaps can be best understood by subdividing it into two:
How much was he required to give and how much could he give? It is a paradox that, when we speak of how much must be given, we usually speak of getting. Only when we talk in terms of how much can be given, are we really speaking of giving.
Most of us were born with an egotistical streak. It is common in children. As we grow up we try to become less self-seeking and more interested in the welfare of others. But many labor mightily to obtain or retain as much as they can while giving up as little as possible in every giving and getting transaction. I suppose everyone has played Monopoly with such a person. It is sobering to realize that life is a never-ending series of such transactions, dozens each day, and that the sum total of all these seemingly insignificant things constitutes our mortal probation.
A Time of Waiting
I remember what it is like to attend a university. I don't think I would voluntarily trade places with any of you, even if I could be young again. I remember the pain. I remember staying up all night to prepare for an examination. I vividly recall homework and homesickness, grades and graduation. I remember part-time jobs that never paid enough and roommates that borrowed things. I remember worrying about what to do and what to be (which, by the way, I believe are the same thing). I remember the relief when the books closed for the last time, and the diplomas were finally awarded. I remember thinking that at last I could get on with the real business of living.
The university was for me as it is for you, a time of waiting--and therein lies a danger. Everything a student does seems pointed to the future. Students are transients. Their hearts are often elsewhere. Summer jobs, lectures, credits--all of these promise a time when prosperity and peace will finally reign--when they can come home after work to a real home and do what they want; when one well-paying job will allow enjoyment of the important things like marriage or family or church service.
C. S. Lewis once said,
Nearly all vices are rooted in the future. Gratitude looks to the past and love to the present; fear, avarice, lust and ambition look ahead. [The Screwtape Letters (Time Incorporated, 1963), p. 49]
The prophet Jacob put it another way. He spoke of the necessity of understanding "things as they really are, and of things as they really will be." He described the Jews as searching for things that they could not understand and being blinded because of "looking beyond the mark" (Jacob 4:13–14).
The Real Test Is Today, Not Tomorrow
So it is that college students, and others as well, often look beyond the mark. They live in inexpensive apartments. They economize on their grocery bills. They walk to school or work. They take out loans they do not know how to repay. They live on hand-me-downs and food baskets from their parents. They look for bargains. They accept student rates at theaters and take vacations that don't cost much. They settle for less in order to have more some day. Because much of what they live for lies in the future, young people sometimes forget that the real test is never tomorrow but it is always today.
Students are usually in a hurry to get on with life. Some remind me of a missionary I had in the mission field. He once penned an unforgettable line: "President," he wrote, "do you know any quick way to memorize the discussions? If you do, send it to me right away."
Because students are anxious to begin living, they tend to look for shortcuts. They sometimes merely endure difficult courses. They have been known to avoid hard teachers and to read long books in outline form. Students have often been known to cram for examinations, and burn the midnight oil. All of this is done in expectation of better things to come. Sadly, those who burn the candle at both ends are usually more concerned with getting than with giving.
Because there is never enough time, students sometimes develop an attitude which will severely interfere with their spiritual progress, not only as students but throughout their lives as well. They try to get by. The question becomes "How much must I give to get the grade?" not "How can I master the subject?" or "How can I get out of school?" not "What can I learn here?"
No Such Things as a Free Lunch
In another related area, students are besieged with offers for free things--free karate lessons, free records and tapes, incredible returns on investments. The bookstore is filled with books having titles such as How to Make a Killing in Real Estate, How to Avoid Probate, How to Make a Million Dollars, How to Sell Anything to Anyone, Shortcuts to Effective Public Speaking, 10 Days to a Better Personality, Calculus Made Easy.
It is easy to forget Euclid's warning that there is no royal road to geometry or the well-known comment that there is no such thing as a free lunch. Little by little, often imperceptibly, our minds become conditioned to getting the things we want with as little effort as possible. We guard our giving, that we may have more time for getting. Many seek grades without effort, athletic attainment without training, musical excellence without practice. They try to lose weight without dieting and want to be free without being responsible. Others become more concerned with finding the right person than they are with being the right person.
It is not that these things are illegal or immoral, but they do have one thing in common. They all represent, at least in part, an attempt to acquire something of real worth without paying adequate consideration for it. And it is a short leap from these attitudes to others which are more serious. As minds become conditioned to getting things without effort, or with as little effort as possible, it is easy to rationalize that it is a clever thing to secure advantage without paying the price.
For example, how many automobiles are not insured as required by law? How many own tapes or video cassettes which have been copied in violation of copyright laws? How many don't tell the full truth when they buy or sell bicycles, stereos, used cars or other things? How many think that radar detectors should be standard equipment on every automobile? How many court unmerited popularity by telling off-color stories? How many seek artificial sensual stimulation as a substitute for righteous joy? How many of us are anxious to have success without sacrifice? It can't be done, you know.
Be More Concerned with Giving Than with Gain
In this regard, there is an interesting story in the scriptures. On one occasion, late in life, King David offended the Lord. He sinned greatly and asked the Lord to remove his iniquity, acknowledging that he had done a foolish thing. To punish David, the Lord sent a pestilence upon Israel and 70,000 men died. David complained to the Lord and said, "I have sinned, and I have done wickedly: but these [meaning the people], what have they done? let thine hand, I pray thee, be against me, and against my father's house" (2 Samuel 24:17).
That same day the prophet Gad came to David and said that the Lord would remove the plague if David would build an altar on the threshingfloor of Araunah the Jebusite and offer an acceptable sacrifice there. David was anxious to lift the Lord's curse. He quickly went to Araunah's place of business, and then the scripture details this most interesting account:
And Araunah looked, and saw the king and his servants coming on toward him: and Araunah went out, and bowed himself before the king on his face upon the ground.
And Araunah said, Wherefore is my lord the king come to his servant? And David said, To buy the threshingfloor of thee, to build an altar unto the Lord, that the plague may be stayed from the people.
And Araunah said unto David, Let my lord the king take and offer up what seemeth good unto him: behold here be oxen for burnt sacrifice, and threshing instruments and other instruments of the oxen for wood.
All these things did Araunah . . . [offer] unto the king. And Araunah said unto the king, The Lord thy God accept thee.
Here David could have made a fatal mistake. He could have been more concerned with gain than with giving. But he wisely said unto Araunah,
Nay; but I will surely buy it of thee at a price: neither will I offer burnt offerings unto the Lord my God of that which doth cost me nothing. So David bought the threshingfloor and the oxen for fifty shekels of silver [which was no small sum in those days].
And David built there an altar unto the Lord, and offered burnt offerings and peace offerings. So the Lord was intreated for the land, and the plague was stayed from Israel. [2 Samuel 24:20–25; emphasis added]
Why was David concerned about personally paying for the offering the prophet commanded him to make? Was it because he knew there is always a cost when real sacrifice is made? Should it be of concern to us if we fail to pay honest measure for that which we receive? Can we hope to learn a language if we are unwilling to make an effort? Is it possible to be forgiven without honestly repenting? Should we seek a witness before the trial of our faith? I believe all of these attitudes which many of us have shared at one time or another may jeopardize our salvation. Let me tell you why.
Satan Offered Salvation without Risk
The scriptures tell us that Satan once came before God in the premortal existence with a plan to redeem all mankind and not lose one soul. You all remember the story. In exchange for what he offered, the son of the morning wanted honor (see Moses 4:1) and the power of God (see D&C 29:36, Moses 4:3). Because we had free agency there, as we do now, Satan induced one third of all of the spirit children of God to turn away from the plan proposed by Jesus Christ and to fight for his proposal (see D&C 29:36, Abraham 3:28). When his scheme was rejected, Satan rebelled and sought to destroy the very agency he had to use to gain approval of his plan (see Moses 4:3).
But how did he manage to draw one third of us away from God? I believe that it was simply by saying that there were unnecessary hazards in Christ's plan, and that the power of God was sufficient to save all men without effort and without the keeping of commandments. It was an attractive package. Many were deceived. In effect, they were offered salvation without risk. It wasn't that our spirit brothers and sisters didn't value free agency. They were undoubtedly taught about it and its importance. Probably they were committed to the concept, but because they were aware of the risks and were aware of their own weaknesses, they were unwilling to go to earth without a guaranteed round trip ticket. They valued the presence of God more than agency and lost both because they looked beyond the mark and could not see that it was impossible to have one without the other.
In a sense they wanted the mortal experience and a token probation. After punishment with a few stripes, they wanted to be returned again to that place they loved so much. But they were afraid of the real risk of mortality--of the discipline and the cost. They knew full well that there was death and evil inherent in the flesh (see 2 Nephi 2:29). They knew that many would find it difficult to walk by faith and would stumble and succumb to temptation (see Moses 5:7–8). They knew that without temptation they could not become agents unto themselves (see D&C 29:39).
That price was unacceptable to many who did not want to leave home. They began to cast about for an easier way and, when it was offered, they accepted it. I have learned that the easy way to anything is almost always suspect.
It Is a Blessing to Earn What We Receive
After Adam's transgression, the Lord told him that the ground would be cursed for his sake (see Moses 4:23). It is interesting to me that one definition of the word sake is benefit. Thus, cursed was the ground for Adam's benefit. And by the sweat of his brow he was to earn his bread (see Moses 4:25). Work, then, was not to be a curse and earning things was to be a benefit.
This is still true today, notwithstanding the fact that much time and effort go into trying to beat the system. Work is still the ruling principle in the lives of the Latter-day Saints. We should not seek to acquire things without effort. Only that which is truly earned is ever really ours. It is a blessing to earn what we receive, and this applies to spiritual things as well.
I heard a sweet lady speak in church not long ago. She spoke of a difficult marriage and a husband who was unwilling to live the gospel. She spoke of abuse and emotional disorders. She spoke of trouble and debt. Real physical illness resulted from trying to hold her marriage together. My heart went out to her. Then she said, "But finally I asked my dear bishop what to do and he told me to get a divorce, so I did."
She said, "dear." She meant "poor." Shame on a bishop who would tell a woman to get a divorce. The effect of doing that was to deprive the woman of the opportunity of paying the price for her own inspiration or revelation. Certainly she was entitled to it. But as with all other valuable things, there is a price attached. I do not know whether the bishop told her the right thing or not. But I do believe that there are no shortcuts to inspiration. The price is always praying and studying the matter in your mind. Often there is fasting and patient waiting. No earthly power can change all of that. I fear that the woman was trying to find the will of the Lord for her without paying the price. That simply cannot be done. Yet how many of us say to our bishops, "Tell me what to do"?
"When You Find the Answer, Let Me Know"
On one occasion I was with President Marion G. Romney. He spoke to a large gathering of young people. Afterwards, a returned missionary came up to shake his hand. As he did, he said, "President Romney, when I was a missionary I had a question that no one knew the answer to. Let me take advantage of your time for a moment and ask you." He then asked a rather complicated question, the answer to which could have been found in the scriptures.
President Romney listened attentively for a few moments and then replied, "That is a very good question. When you find the answer, let me know, will you please?" As we left the hall he commented to me, obviously referring to the young man and his question, "My father taught me as a boy that when I wanted a drink I should go to where the spring flowed out of the ground and not downstream where the cattle had been muddying the water. He'll be better off if he finds the answer for himself."
But how easy it is to find someone else with the answers to our questions. How many want to know the mysteries of God without studying the scriptures? How many ask the Lord to do things which they should do for themselves? They forget there is no spiritual attainment without effort. The attitudes we sometimes develop in the world can be spiritually fatal if applied to such things as repentance or eternal marriage or keeping the commandments. Think of the consequences, for example, of asking, "Must I serve a mission?" compared to asking, "Can I serve a mission?"
Several Reasons to Earn What We Get
As I have thought about the subject, it seems that there are several reasons why the Lord wants us to earn what we get in this life.
First, if we get things without effort, we often fail to make the hard choices we were sent here to make. We may fail to exercise our agency and thereby be deprived of important blessings. We are then out of harmony with the Lord and lose the blessings and trials (for many trials are blessings) which he intended would be a part of our own particular probation. As an illustration, what would Cain have done to come up with an acceptable offering to the Lord, if he had not killed Abel? Could not introspection and prayer and an honest, humble sacrifice have made an eternal difference in his life?
Second, if we acquire things with little or no effort, we often develop an exaggerated view of our own ability and our own importance. If we think we are better than we really are, then we are in danger of not being sufficiently humble to be able to enter the Kingdom of God.
Third, when we get something for nothing, we often feel that others do the same. Then we become critical, feeling that patronage, nepotism, luck, influence, or favoritism have allowed them to acquire what they have. Jealousy and envy then easily enter our lives.
Fourth, when we get something for nothing, we often develop a delusion of being especially blessed by the Lord. This can discourage hard work on other projects and may bring great disappointment when similar slack efforts do not result in corresponding large rewards.
Fifth, when we get something for nothing, it is often at the expense of someone else's loss. If the whole truth were known, offense might be taken. I do not want to be included among those about whom the Savior said, "Woe unto him, through whom they come! It were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and he cast into the sea" (Luke 17:1–2).
Last of all, things cheaply purchased are seldom appreciated. Attitudes which cause us to look for bargains in some areas of life will carry over (because as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he) into more important things. We may then come to seek testimony without study and spiritual power without cost, and the greatest blessings of life may be cheapened or lost altogether as a result.
There is an important lesson here for Latter-day Saints. Somehow, some way, sooner or later, whether we want it that way or not, there are some experiences that all men must have. There are some truths that all must learn. There is a relationship between what we give and what we get. Shortcuts are often hazardous to the important things, both in this life and the life to come. There are no spiritual shortcuts to anything. We must learn that peace of mind has its price and that there can be no exaltation without effort.
The Satisfaction of Giving Lasts Longer
I spoke about a young boy sitting on a street corner. I said it often depends on where you sit or where you stand with reference to the important issues, whether you get a reward or not. You may be interested to know where I stand as a humble servant of the Lord with reference to getting and giving. I am deeply conscious of my own weaknesses in this area. Yet, as I have seen the dangers and struggled with personal self-interest, I have found that the satisfaction of giving lasts much longer than the sweetness of getting. Like Abraham, I have found "greater happiness and peace and rest for me" (Abraham 1:2) when I render honest sacrifice and pay fair and adequate consideration for what I get.
Therefore:
1. I have resolved never to ask the Church or anyone else to do for me what I should do for myself. Where possible, I prefer to be part of the solution and not part of the problem.
2. When I pray, I always try to pray "Thy will be done, not mine." President Tanner once said that too many of us merely take a shopping list to the Lord when we pray. I try not to do that unless it is absolutely necessary.
3. As a lawyer, before being called as a General Authority, I never accepted a case which would cause me to bend the law or ignore the facts; or which would give my client a benefit he didn't deserve. I still recoil from those who suggest such things and do not traffic with men and women who shade the truth for personal gain.
4. I am thankful that my eternal companion also believes in giving honest measure for what she gets. In fact, she gives more, and I appreciate that. It seems to me that a "something for nothing" attitude is inconsistent with eternal marriage.
5. I have never consciously misrepresented my income to the government, and have always paid taxes on that which I have earned. I have little sympathy with some vocal groups who look for ways to avoid this obligation. It seems to me that they want all of the benefits of democracy without paying for them.
6. Likewise, I have never misrepresented my income to my bishop. I have always tried to pay just a little bit more tithing than I owed. I avoid thinking in terms of net or gross income and believe that gifts or profits from sale of my property are included in my increase. I recognize that all that I have comes from the Lord. I would willingly give up a new sports car or boat or a vacation, just for the privilege of paying tithing. I have done this all of my life and I have no regrets.
7. I believe in the "second mile." I have come to know that the first mile doesn't count for much and the one freely given counts for everything.
8. I have learned to distrust praise and to seek honest humility, which I define to be a true and correct estimate of what I really am in the sight of God. No more and no less.
9. I never sign up for sweepstakes, prizes, giveaways, free offers or chances of a lifetime. As I wait in airports around the world, there are sometimes slot machines there to help passengers pass the time. I never put any money in them, even spare change. I am actually afraid I will win something.
10. I ask myself often, "What would Christ do?" and then try to do it. As the answer to that question comes, it almost always involves giving, not getting.
There is No Exaltation without Effort
As children we all learned the stories of the "Goose That Laid the Golden Egg," of "Jack and the Magic Beans," of "The Three Wishes," and "King Midas," whose touch turned everything to gold. But it was Paul who said,
When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I become a man, I put away childish things. [1 Corinthians 13:11]
I suppose that most of us have dreamed of inheriting a million dollars, or making a killing in a business venture, or even just being free of the work-a-day world in order to do what we want. But it is unworthy of a Latter-day Saint to spend his time trying to achieve these or other things without effort. The real reason for our mortal probation is to confront challenges, not escape them. It is to learn to give, not to learn to get. In earth life, as in the university life, we cannot complain about not getting passing grades if we are unwilling to take the test. There are no shortcuts to the plan of salvation. There is no exaltation without effort. We have nothing more important to do than to fully, honestly, and completely obey the laws upon which blessings are predicated. Make no mistake about it, we will reap what we sow (see Galatians 6:7).
It has always interested me that the broad way seems pleasant enough at first, while the narrow strait way initially does not. It has nothing to commend it to the advertisers of the world. It is difficult to sell. It is a toll road. The tariff is work, discipline, service, and love for others. It is paying the price for everything we get, then giving it away. Once entered into, however, those who travel the straight road are never the same. What at first seemed unpleasant will turn out to be the sweetest and most desirable road of all. It is what we give ourselves to that brings meaning and purpose into our lives--not what we get or gain. Of this I testify in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
One brilliant, warm day, I had come home for lunch. As I was returning to work I noticed a small boy sitting on the curb at the foot of the hill. I knew him by sight as a neighbor who lived in a large apartment house next door to us. His parents were divorced. His mother worked and often left him alone in the afternoon to look after himself. As I was in no hurry to begin my ascent, I stopped to talk with him for a moment.
"What are you doing?" I said.
"Waiting for my brother."
"Where is he?" I asked as I contemplated the hot climb up the hill. His answer brought me immediately to attention.
"He's in school."
"Don't you know that school isn't out until 3:30?" I gently asked.
He shuffled his toe in the dirt of the street and looked at me with what I am now positive was condescension. "Sure," he said, "but I don't want to miss him."
"Maybe the kid had a point," I thought as I climbed the hill. And I have pondered his statement many times since that day.
Of course he did. Whatever his reason for wanting his brother--whether for love or loneliness or just to deliver a family message--it was of sufficient importance for him to wait on the curb at the side of a hot street all afternoon. He was not going to miss his brother, whatever the discomfort or whatever the cost. He had nothing more important to do.
Giving and Getting
It is difficult to sit in the sun on a street corner when all the world is hell-bent on seeking shade. But, as with many other things, it is where you sit that counts--or where you stand--or what you stand for. And with some things there is nothing more important to do than pay the price; even though it entails inconvenience or sacrifice.
Before getting much older, my young friend would find no shortage of those who would tell him he paid too much to see his brother that hot afternoon.
"Don't be dumb," they would say.
"You could have watched television until just before school let out."
Or they would say, "You should have stayed in the shade at home, instead of sitting on that dusty old curb."
"Be smart," they would say. "Don't give more than you have to, just to see your brother."
But did he give too much? Was he just a naïve little boy? Can we learn something from him? To simplify the subject, let me suggest that the real question on that street corner was how much to give in exchange for his brother's company that hot afternoon.
This question perhaps can be best understood by subdividing it into two:
How much was he required to give and how much could he give? It is a paradox that, when we speak of how much must be given, we usually speak of getting. Only when we talk in terms of how much can be given, are we really speaking of giving.
Most of us were born with an egotistical streak. It is common in children. As we grow up we try to become less self-seeking and more interested in the welfare of others. But many labor mightily to obtain or retain as much as they can while giving up as little as possible in every giving and getting transaction. I suppose everyone has played Monopoly with such a person. It is sobering to realize that life is a never-ending series of such transactions, dozens each day, and that the sum total of all these seemingly insignificant things constitutes our mortal probation.
A Time of Waiting
I remember what it is like to attend a university. I don't think I would voluntarily trade places with any of you, even if I could be young again. I remember the pain. I remember staying up all night to prepare for an examination. I vividly recall homework and homesickness, grades and graduation. I remember part-time jobs that never paid enough and roommates that borrowed things. I remember worrying about what to do and what to be (which, by the way, I believe are the same thing). I remember the relief when the books closed for the last time, and the diplomas were finally awarded. I remember thinking that at last I could get on with the real business of living.
The university was for me as it is for you, a time of waiting--and therein lies a danger. Everything a student does seems pointed to the future. Students are transients. Their hearts are often elsewhere. Summer jobs, lectures, credits--all of these promise a time when prosperity and peace will finally reign--when they can come home after work to a real home and do what they want; when one well-paying job will allow enjoyment of the important things like marriage or family or church service.
C. S. Lewis once said,
Nearly all vices are rooted in the future. Gratitude looks to the past and love to the present; fear, avarice, lust and ambition look ahead. [The Screwtape Letters (Time Incorporated, 1963), p. 49]
The prophet Jacob put it another way. He spoke of the necessity of understanding "things as they really are, and of things as they really will be." He described the Jews as searching for things that they could not understand and being blinded because of "looking beyond the mark" (Jacob 4:13–14).
The Real Test Is Today, Not Tomorrow
So it is that college students, and others as well, often look beyond the mark. They live in inexpensive apartments. They economize on their grocery bills. They walk to school or work. They take out loans they do not know how to repay. They live on hand-me-downs and food baskets from their parents. They look for bargains. They accept student rates at theaters and take vacations that don't cost much. They settle for less in order to have more some day. Because much of what they live for lies in the future, young people sometimes forget that the real test is never tomorrow but it is always today.
Students are usually in a hurry to get on with life. Some remind me of a missionary I had in the mission field. He once penned an unforgettable line: "President," he wrote, "do you know any quick way to memorize the discussions? If you do, send it to me right away."
Because students are anxious to begin living, they tend to look for shortcuts. They sometimes merely endure difficult courses. They have been known to avoid hard teachers and to read long books in outline form. Students have often been known to cram for examinations, and burn the midnight oil. All of this is done in expectation of better things to come. Sadly, those who burn the candle at both ends are usually more concerned with getting than with giving.
Because there is never enough time, students sometimes develop an attitude which will severely interfere with their spiritual progress, not only as students but throughout their lives as well. They try to get by. The question becomes "How much must I give to get the grade?" not "How can I master the subject?" or "How can I get out of school?" not "What can I learn here?"
No Such Things as a Free Lunch
In another related area, students are besieged with offers for free things--free karate lessons, free records and tapes, incredible returns on investments. The bookstore is filled with books having titles such as How to Make a Killing in Real Estate, How to Avoid Probate, How to Make a Million Dollars, How to Sell Anything to Anyone, Shortcuts to Effective Public Speaking, 10 Days to a Better Personality, Calculus Made Easy.
It is easy to forget Euclid's warning that there is no royal road to geometry or the well-known comment that there is no such thing as a free lunch. Little by little, often imperceptibly, our minds become conditioned to getting the things we want with as little effort as possible. We guard our giving, that we may have more time for getting. Many seek grades without effort, athletic attainment without training, musical excellence without practice. They try to lose weight without dieting and want to be free without being responsible. Others become more concerned with finding the right person than they are with being the right person.
It is not that these things are illegal or immoral, but they do have one thing in common. They all represent, at least in part, an attempt to acquire something of real worth without paying adequate consideration for it. And it is a short leap from these attitudes to others which are more serious. As minds become conditioned to getting things without effort, or with as little effort as possible, it is easy to rationalize that it is a clever thing to secure advantage without paying the price.
For example, how many automobiles are not insured as required by law? How many own tapes or video cassettes which have been copied in violation of copyright laws? How many don't tell the full truth when they buy or sell bicycles, stereos, used cars or other things? How many think that radar detectors should be standard equipment on every automobile? How many court unmerited popularity by telling off-color stories? How many seek artificial sensual stimulation as a substitute for righteous joy? How many of us are anxious to have success without sacrifice? It can't be done, you know.
Be More Concerned with Giving Than with Gain
In this regard, there is an interesting story in the scriptures. On one occasion, late in life, King David offended the Lord. He sinned greatly and asked the Lord to remove his iniquity, acknowledging that he had done a foolish thing. To punish David, the Lord sent a pestilence upon Israel and 70,000 men died. David complained to the Lord and said, "I have sinned, and I have done wickedly: but these [meaning the people], what have they done? let thine hand, I pray thee, be against me, and against my father's house" (2 Samuel 24:17).
That same day the prophet Gad came to David and said that the Lord would remove the plague if David would build an altar on the threshingfloor of Araunah the Jebusite and offer an acceptable sacrifice there. David was anxious to lift the Lord's curse. He quickly went to Araunah's place of business, and then the scripture details this most interesting account:
And Araunah looked, and saw the king and his servants coming on toward him: and Araunah went out, and bowed himself before the king on his face upon the ground.
And Araunah said, Wherefore is my lord the king come to his servant? And David said, To buy the threshingfloor of thee, to build an altar unto the Lord, that the plague may be stayed from the people.
And Araunah said unto David, Let my lord the king take and offer up what seemeth good unto him: behold here be oxen for burnt sacrifice, and threshing instruments and other instruments of the oxen for wood.
All these things did Araunah . . . [offer] unto the king. And Araunah said unto the king, The Lord thy God accept thee.
Here David could have made a fatal mistake. He could have been more concerned with gain than with giving. But he wisely said unto Araunah,
Nay; but I will surely buy it of thee at a price: neither will I offer burnt offerings unto the Lord my God of that which doth cost me nothing. So David bought the threshingfloor and the oxen for fifty shekels of silver [which was no small sum in those days].
And David built there an altar unto the Lord, and offered burnt offerings and peace offerings. So the Lord was intreated for the land, and the plague was stayed from Israel. [2 Samuel 24:20–25; emphasis added]
Why was David concerned about personally paying for the offering the prophet commanded him to make? Was it because he knew there is always a cost when real sacrifice is made? Should it be of concern to us if we fail to pay honest measure for that which we receive? Can we hope to learn a language if we are unwilling to make an effort? Is it possible to be forgiven without honestly repenting? Should we seek a witness before the trial of our faith? I believe all of these attitudes which many of us have shared at one time or another may jeopardize our salvation. Let me tell you why.
Satan Offered Salvation without Risk
The scriptures tell us that Satan once came before God in the premortal existence with a plan to redeem all mankind and not lose one soul. You all remember the story. In exchange for what he offered, the son of the morning wanted honor (see Moses 4:1) and the power of God (see D&C 29:36, Moses 4:3). Because we had free agency there, as we do now, Satan induced one third of all of the spirit children of God to turn away from the plan proposed by Jesus Christ and to fight for his proposal (see D&C 29:36, Abraham 3:28). When his scheme was rejected, Satan rebelled and sought to destroy the very agency he had to use to gain approval of his plan (see Moses 4:3).
But how did he manage to draw one third of us away from God? I believe that it was simply by saying that there were unnecessary hazards in Christ's plan, and that the power of God was sufficient to save all men without effort and without the keeping of commandments. It was an attractive package. Many were deceived. In effect, they were offered salvation without risk. It wasn't that our spirit brothers and sisters didn't value free agency. They were undoubtedly taught about it and its importance. Probably they were committed to the concept, but because they were aware of the risks and were aware of their own weaknesses, they were unwilling to go to earth without a guaranteed round trip ticket. They valued the presence of God more than agency and lost both because they looked beyond the mark and could not see that it was impossible to have one without the other.
In a sense they wanted the mortal experience and a token probation. After punishment with a few stripes, they wanted to be returned again to that place they loved so much. But they were afraid of the real risk of mortality--of the discipline and the cost. They knew full well that there was death and evil inherent in the flesh (see 2 Nephi 2:29). They knew that many would find it difficult to walk by faith and would stumble and succumb to temptation (see Moses 5:7–8). They knew that without temptation they could not become agents unto themselves (see D&C 29:39).
That price was unacceptable to many who did not want to leave home. They began to cast about for an easier way and, when it was offered, they accepted it. I have learned that the easy way to anything is almost always suspect.
It Is a Blessing to Earn What We Receive
After Adam's transgression, the Lord told him that the ground would be cursed for his sake (see Moses 4:23). It is interesting to me that one definition of the word sake is benefit. Thus, cursed was the ground for Adam's benefit. And by the sweat of his brow he was to earn his bread (see Moses 4:25). Work, then, was not to be a curse and earning things was to be a benefit.
This is still true today, notwithstanding the fact that much time and effort go into trying to beat the system. Work is still the ruling principle in the lives of the Latter-day Saints. We should not seek to acquire things without effort. Only that which is truly earned is ever really ours. It is a blessing to earn what we receive, and this applies to spiritual things as well.
I heard a sweet lady speak in church not long ago. She spoke of a difficult marriage and a husband who was unwilling to live the gospel. She spoke of abuse and emotional disorders. She spoke of trouble and debt. Real physical illness resulted from trying to hold her marriage together. My heart went out to her. Then she said, "But finally I asked my dear bishop what to do and he told me to get a divorce, so I did."
She said, "dear." She meant "poor." Shame on a bishop who would tell a woman to get a divorce. The effect of doing that was to deprive the woman of the opportunity of paying the price for her own inspiration or revelation. Certainly she was entitled to it. But as with all other valuable things, there is a price attached. I do not know whether the bishop told her the right thing or not. But I do believe that there are no shortcuts to inspiration. The price is always praying and studying the matter in your mind. Often there is fasting and patient waiting. No earthly power can change all of that. I fear that the woman was trying to find the will of the Lord for her without paying the price. That simply cannot be done. Yet how many of us say to our bishops, "Tell me what to do"?
"When You Find the Answer, Let Me Know"
On one occasion I was with President Marion G. Romney. He spoke to a large gathering of young people. Afterwards, a returned missionary came up to shake his hand. As he did, he said, "President Romney, when I was a missionary I had a question that no one knew the answer to. Let me take advantage of your time for a moment and ask you." He then asked a rather complicated question, the answer to which could have been found in the scriptures.
President Romney listened attentively for a few moments and then replied, "That is a very good question. When you find the answer, let me know, will you please?" As we left the hall he commented to me, obviously referring to the young man and his question, "My father taught me as a boy that when I wanted a drink I should go to where the spring flowed out of the ground and not downstream where the cattle had been muddying the water. He'll be better off if he finds the answer for himself."
But how easy it is to find someone else with the answers to our questions. How many want to know the mysteries of God without studying the scriptures? How many ask the Lord to do things which they should do for themselves? They forget there is no spiritual attainment without effort. The attitudes we sometimes develop in the world can be spiritually fatal if applied to such things as repentance or eternal marriage or keeping the commandments. Think of the consequences, for example, of asking, "Must I serve a mission?" compared to asking, "Can I serve a mission?"
Several Reasons to Earn What We Get
As I have thought about the subject, it seems that there are several reasons why the Lord wants us to earn what we get in this life.
First, if we get things without effort, we often fail to make the hard choices we were sent here to make. We may fail to exercise our agency and thereby be deprived of important blessings. We are then out of harmony with the Lord and lose the blessings and trials (for many trials are blessings) which he intended would be a part of our own particular probation. As an illustration, what would Cain have done to come up with an acceptable offering to the Lord, if he had not killed Abel? Could not introspection and prayer and an honest, humble sacrifice have made an eternal difference in his life?
Second, if we acquire things with little or no effort, we often develop an exaggerated view of our own ability and our own importance. If we think we are better than we really are, then we are in danger of not being sufficiently humble to be able to enter the Kingdom of God.
Third, when we get something for nothing, we often feel that others do the same. Then we become critical, feeling that patronage, nepotism, luck, influence, or favoritism have allowed them to acquire what they have. Jealousy and envy then easily enter our lives.
Fourth, when we get something for nothing, we often develop a delusion of being especially blessed by the Lord. This can discourage hard work on other projects and may bring great disappointment when similar slack efforts do not result in corresponding large rewards.
Fifth, when we get something for nothing, it is often at the expense of someone else's loss. If the whole truth were known, offense might be taken. I do not want to be included among those about whom the Savior said, "Woe unto him, through whom they come! It were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and he cast into the sea" (Luke 17:1–2).
Last of all, things cheaply purchased are seldom appreciated. Attitudes which cause us to look for bargains in some areas of life will carry over (because as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he) into more important things. We may then come to seek testimony without study and spiritual power without cost, and the greatest blessings of life may be cheapened or lost altogether as a result.
There is an important lesson here for Latter-day Saints. Somehow, some way, sooner or later, whether we want it that way or not, there are some experiences that all men must have. There are some truths that all must learn. There is a relationship between what we give and what we get. Shortcuts are often hazardous to the important things, both in this life and the life to come. There are no spiritual shortcuts to anything. We must learn that peace of mind has its price and that there can be no exaltation without effort.
The Satisfaction of Giving Lasts Longer
I spoke about a young boy sitting on a street corner. I said it often depends on where you sit or where you stand with reference to the important issues, whether you get a reward or not. You may be interested to know where I stand as a humble servant of the Lord with reference to getting and giving. I am deeply conscious of my own weaknesses in this area. Yet, as I have seen the dangers and struggled with personal self-interest, I have found that the satisfaction of giving lasts much longer than the sweetness of getting. Like Abraham, I have found "greater happiness and peace and rest for me" (Abraham 1:2) when I render honest sacrifice and pay fair and adequate consideration for what I get.
Therefore:
1. I have resolved never to ask the Church or anyone else to do for me what I should do for myself. Where possible, I prefer to be part of the solution and not part of the problem.
2. When I pray, I always try to pray "Thy will be done, not mine." President Tanner once said that too many of us merely take a shopping list to the Lord when we pray. I try not to do that unless it is absolutely necessary.
3. As a lawyer, before being called as a General Authority, I never accepted a case which would cause me to bend the law or ignore the facts; or which would give my client a benefit he didn't deserve. I still recoil from those who suggest such things and do not traffic with men and women who shade the truth for personal gain.
4. I am thankful that my eternal companion also believes in giving honest measure for what she gets. In fact, she gives more, and I appreciate that. It seems to me that a "something for nothing" attitude is inconsistent with eternal marriage.
5. I have never consciously misrepresented my income to the government, and have always paid taxes on that which I have earned. I have little sympathy with some vocal groups who look for ways to avoid this obligation. It seems to me that they want all of the benefits of democracy without paying for them.
6. Likewise, I have never misrepresented my income to my bishop. I have always tried to pay just a little bit more tithing than I owed. I avoid thinking in terms of net or gross income and believe that gifts or profits from sale of my property are included in my increase. I recognize that all that I have comes from the Lord. I would willingly give up a new sports car or boat or a vacation, just for the privilege of paying tithing. I have done this all of my life and I have no regrets.
7. I believe in the "second mile." I have come to know that the first mile doesn't count for much and the one freely given counts for everything.
8. I have learned to distrust praise and to seek honest humility, which I define to be a true and correct estimate of what I really am in the sight of God. No more and no less.
9. I never sign up for sweepstakes, prizes, giveaways, free offers or chances of a lifetime. As I wait in airports around the world, there are sometimes slot machines there to help passengers pass the time. I never put any money in them, even spare change. I am actually afraid I will win something.
10. I ask myself often, "What would Christ do?" and then try to do it. As the answer to that question comes, it almost always involves giving, not getting.
There is No Exaltation without Effort
As children we all learned the stories of the "Goose That Laid the Golden Egg," of "Jack and the Magic Beans," of "The Three Wishes," and "King Midas," whose touch turned everything to gold. But it was Paul who said,
When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I become a man, I put away childish things. [1 Corinthians 13:11]
I suppose that most of us have dreamed of inheriting a million dollars, or making a killing in a business venture, or even just being free of the work-a-day world in order to do what we want. But it is unworthy of a Latter-day Saint to spend his time trying to achieve these or other things without effort. The real reason for our mortal probation is to confront challenges, not escape them. It is to learn to give, not to learn to get. In earth life, as in the university life, we cannot complain about not getting passing grades if we are unwilling to take the test. There are no shortcuts to the plan of salvation. There is no exaltation without effort. We have nothing more important to do than to fully, honestly, and completely obey the laws upon which blessings are predicated. Make no mistake about it, we will reap what we sow (see Galatians 6:7).
It has always interested me that the broad way seems pleasant enough at first, while the narrow strait way initially does not. It has nothing to commend it to the advertisers of the world. It is difficult to sell. It is a toll road. The tariff is work, discipline, service, and love for others. It is paying the price for everything we get, then giving it away. Once entered into, however, those who travel the straight road are never the same. What at first seemed unpleasant will turn out to be the sweetest and most desirable road of all. It is what we give ourselves to that brings meaning and purpose into our lives--not what we get or gain. Of this I testify in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
The Currant Bush HUGH B. Brown
You sometimes wonder whether the Lord really knows what he ought to do with you. You sometimes wonder if you know better than he does about what you ought to do and ought to become. I am wondering if I may tell you a story that I have told quite often in the Church. It is a story that is older than you are. It’s a piece out of my own life, and I’ve told it in many stakes and missions. It has to do with an incident in my life when God showed me that he knew best.
I was living up in Canada. I had purchased a farm. It was run-down. I went out one morning and saw a currant bush. It had grown up over six feet high. It was going all to wood. There were no blossoms and no currants. I was raised on a fruit farm in Salt Lake before we went to Canada, and I knew what ought to happen to that currant bush. So I got some pruning shears and went after it, and I cut it down, and pruned it, and clipped it back until there was nothing left but a little clump of stumps. It was just coming daylight, and I thought I saw on top of each of these little stumps what appeared to be a tear, and I thought the currant bush was crying. I was kind of simpleminded (and I haven’t entirely gotten over it), and I looked at it, and smiled, and said, “What are you crying about?” You know, I thought I heard that currant bush talk. And I thought I heard it say this: “How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. I was almost as big as the shade tree and the fruit tree that are inside the fence, and now you have cut me down. Every plant in the garden will look down on me, because I didn’t make what I should have made. How could you do this to me? I thought you were the gardener here.” That’s what I thought I heard the currant bush say, and I thought it so much that I answered. I said, “Look, little currant bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be. I didn’t intend you to be a fruit tree or a shade tree. I want you to be a currant bush, and some day, little currant bush, when you are laden with fruit, you are going to say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to cut me down, for caring enough about me to hurt me. Thank you, Mr. Gardener.’”
Time passed. Years passed, and I found myself in England. I was in command of a cavalry unit in the Canadian Army. I had made rather rapid progress as far as promotions are concerned, and I held the rank of field officer in the British Canadian Army. And I was proud of my position. And there was an opportunity for me to become a general. I had taken all the examinations. I had the seniority. There was just one man between me and that which for ten years I had hoped to get, the office of general in the British Army. I swelled up with pride. And this one man became a casualty, and I received a telegram from London. It said: “Be in my office tomorrow morning at 10:00,” signed by General Turner in charge of all Canadian forces. I called in my valet, my personal servant. I told him to polish my buttons, to brush my hat and my boots, and to make me look like a general because that is what I was going to be. He did the best he could with what he had to work on, and I went up to London. I walked smartly into the office of the General, and I saluted him smartly, and he gave me the same kind of a salute a senior officer usually gives—a sort of “Get out of the way, worm!” He said, “Sit down, Brown.” Then he said, “I’m sorry I cannot make the appointment. You are entitled to it. You have passed all the examinations. You have the seniority. You’ve been a good officer, but I can’t make the appointment. You are to return to Canada and become a training officer and a transport officer. Someone else will be made a general.” That for which I had been hoping and praying for ten years suddenly slipped out of my fingers.
Then he went into the other room to answer the telephone, and I took a soldier’s privilege of looking on his desk. I saw my personal history sheet. Right across the bottom of it in bold, block-type letters was written, “THIS MAN IS A MORMON.” We were not very well liked in those days. When I saw that, I knew why I had not been appointed. I already held the highest rank of any Mormon in the British Army. He came back and said, “That’s all, Brown.” I saluted him again, but not quite as smartly. I saluted out of duty and went out. I got on the train and started back to my town, 120 miles away, with a broken heart, with bitterness in my soul. And every click of the wheels on the rails seemed to say, “You are a failure. You will be called a coward when you get home. You raised all those Mormon boys to join the army, then you sneak off home.” I knew what I was going to get, and when I got to my tent, I was so bitter that I threw my cap and my saddle brown belt on the cot. I clinched my fists and I shook them at heaven. I said, “How could you do this to me, God? I have done everything I could do to measure up. There is nothing that I could have done—that I should have done—that I haven’t done. How could you do this to me?” I was as bitter as gall.
And then I heard a voice, and I recognized the tone of this voice. It was my own voice, and the voice said, “I am the gardener here. I know what I want you to do.” The bitterness went out of my soul, and I fell on my knees by the cot to ask forgiveness for my ungratefulness and my bitterness. While kneeling there I heard a song being sung in an adjoining tent. A number of Mormon boys met regularly every Tuesday night. I usually met with them. We would sit on the floor and have a Mutual Improvement Association. As I was kneeling there, praying for forgiveness, I heard their voices singing:
“It may not be on the mountain height
Or over the stormy sea;
It may not be at the battle’s front
My Lord will have need of me;
But if, by a still, small voice he calls
To paths that I do not know,
I’ll answer, dear Lord, with my hand in thine:
I’ll go where you want me to go.”
(Hymns, no. 75.)
I arose from my knees a humble man. And now, almost fifty years later, I look up to him and say, “Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for cutting me down, for loving me enough to hurt me.” I see now that it was wise that I should not become a general at that time, because if I had I would have been senior officer of all western Canada, with a lifelong, handsome salary, a place to live, and a pension when I’m no good any longer, but I would have raised my six daughters and two sons in army barracks. They would no doubt have married out of the Church, and I think I would not have amounted to anything. I haven’t amounted to very much as it is, but I have done better than I would have done if the Lord had let me go the way I wanted to go.
I wanted to tell you that oft-repeated story because there are many of you who are going to have some very difficult experiences: disappointment, heartbreak, bereavement, defeat. You are going to be tested and tried to prove what you are made of. I just want you to know that if you don’t get what you think you ought to get, remember, “God is the gardener here. He knows what he wants you to be.” Submit yourselves to his will. Be worthy of his blessings, and you will get his blessings.
I was living up in Canada. I had purchased a farm. It was run-down. I went out one morning and saw a currant bush. It had grown up over six feet high. It was going all to wood. There were no blossoms and no currants. I was raised on a fruit farm in Salt Lake before we went to Canada, and I knew what ought to happen to that currant bush. So I got some pruning shears and went after it, and I cut it down, and pruned it, and clipped it back until there was nothing left but a little clump of stumps. It was just coming daylight, and I thought I saw on top of each of these little stumps what appeared to be a tear, and I thought the currant bush was crying. I was kind of simpleminded (and I haven’t entirely gotten over it), and I looked at it, and smiled, and said, “What are you crying about?” You know, I thought I heard that currant bush talk. And I thought I heard it say this: “How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. I was almost as big as the shade tree and the fruit tree that are inside the fence, and now you have cut me down. Every plant in the garden will look down on me, because I didn’t make what I should have made. How could you do this to me? I thought you were the gardener here.” That’s what I thought I heard the currant bush say, and I thought it so much that I answered. I said, “Look, little currant bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be. I didn’t intend you to be a fruit tree or a shade tree. I want you to be a currant bush, and some day, little currant bush, when you are laden with fruit, you are going to say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to cut me down, for caring enough about me to hurt me. Thank you, Mr. Gardener.’”
Time passed. Years passed, and I found myself in England. I was in command of a cavalry unit in the Canadian Army. I had made rather rapid progress as far as promotions are concerned, and I held the rank of field officer in the British Canadian Army. And I was proud of my position. And there was an opportunity for me to become a general. I had taken all the examinations. I had the seniority. There was just one man between me and that which for ten years I had hoped to get, the office of general in the British Army. I swelled up with pride. And this one man became a casualty, and I received a telegram from London. It said: “Be in my office tomorrow morning at 10:00,” signed by General Turner in charge of all Canadian forces. I called in my valet, my personal servant. I told him to polish my buttons, to brush my hat and my boots, and to make me look like a general because that is what I was going to be. He did the best he could with what he had to work on, and I went up to London. I walked smartly into the office of the General, and I saluted him smartly, and he gave me the same kind of a salute a senior officer usually gives—a sort of “Get out of the way, worm!” He said, “Sit down, Brown.” Then he said, “I’m sorry I cannot make the appointment. You are entitled to it. You have passed all the examinations. You have the seniority. You’ve been a good officer, but I can’t make the appointment. You are to return to Canada and become a training officer and a transport officer. Someone else will be made a general.” That for which I had been hoping and praying for ten years suddenly slipped out of my fingers.
Then he went into the other room to answer the telephone, and I took a soldier’s privilege of looking on his desk. I saw my personal history sheet. Right across the bottom of it in bold, block-type letters was written, “THIS MAN IS A MORMON.” We were not very well liked in those days. When I saw that, I knew why I had not been appointed. I already held the highest rank of any Mormon in the British Army. He came back and said, “That’s all, Brown.” I saluted him again, but not quite as smartly. I saluted out of duty and went out. I got on the train and started back to my town, 120 miles away, with a broken heart, with bitterness in my soul. And every click of the wheels on the rails seemed to say, “You are a failure. You will be called a coward when you get home. You raised all those Mormon boys to join the army, then you sneak off home.” I knew what I was going to get, and when I got to my tent, I was so bitter that I threw my cap and my saddle brown belt on the cot. I clinched my fists and I shook them at heaven. I said, “How could you do this to me, God? I have done everything I could do to measure up. There is nothing that I could have done—that I should have done—that I haven’t done. How could you do this to me?” I was as bitter as gall.
And then I heard a voice, and I recognized the tone of this voice. It was my own voice, and the voice said, “I am the gardener here. I know what I want you to do.” The bitterness went out of my soul, and I fell on my knees by the cot to ask forgiveness for my ungratefulness and my bitterness. While kneeling there I heard a song being sung in an adjoining tent. A number of Mormon boys met regularly every Tuesday night. I usually met with them. We would sit on the floor and have a Mutual Improvement Association. As I was kneeling there, praying for forgiveness, I heard their voices singing:
“It may not be on the mountain height
Or over the stormy sea;
It may not be at the battle’s front
My Lord will have need of me;
But if, by a still, small voice he calls
To paths that I do not know,
I’ll answer, dear Lord, with my hand in thine:
I’ll go where you want me to go.”
(Hymns, no. 75.)
I arose from my knees a humble man. And now, almost fifty years later, I look up to him and say, “Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for cutting me down, for loving me enough to hurt me.” I see now that it was wise that I should not become a general at that time, because if I had I would have been senior officer of all western Canada, with a lifelong, handsome salary, a place to live, and a pension when I’m no good any longer, but I would have raised my six daughters and two sons in army barracks. They would no doubt have married out of the Church, and I think I would not have amounted to anything. I haven’t amounted to very much as it is, but I have done better than I would have done if the Lord had let me go the way I wanted to go.
I wanted to tell you that oft-repeated story because there are many of you who are going to have some very difficult experiences: disappointment, heartbreak, bereavement, defeat. You are going to be tested and tried to prove what you are made of. I just want you to know that if you don’t get what you think you ought to get, remember, “God is the gardener here. He knows what he wants you to be.” Submit yourselves to his will. Be worthy of his blessings, and you will get his blessings.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Why should I serve a Mission?
Elder W. Grant Bangerter
President Kimball announced all young men should serve a mission.
On certain occasions have approached young men of missionary age and informed them that they have been called to serve a mission. Sometimes they explain that they have no desire to go on a misson .
I then tell them that is immaterial to me whether you serve a mission or not.
Of course it is not at all immaterial.
But I say I am only informing you of the calling the Lord has given you.
They often continue to offer every conceivable excuse to me of why they should not go
I simply tell them
DON’T TELL ME;
TELL THE LORD
HE IS THE ONE WHO EXTENDED THE CALL
YOU GO AND PRAY AND ASK HIM WHAT HE WANTS YOU TO DO
Almost always they return from that experience saying well. I suppose I had better go on a mission. For some of them it is then time for me to say:
Now we both understand that you are not quite prepared so let us begin to take the steps by which you will be qualified to go.
President Kimball announced all young men should serve a mission.
On certain occasions have approached young men of missionary age and informed them that they have been called to serve a mission. Sometimes they explain that they have no desire to go on a misson .
I then tell them that is immaterial to me whether you serve a mission or not.
Of course it is not at all immaterial.
But I say I am only informing you of the calling the Lord has given you.
They often continue to offer every conceivable excuse to me of why they should not go
I simply tell them
DON’T TELL ME;
TELL THE LORD
HE IS THE ONE WHO EXTENDED THE CALL
YOU GO AND PRAY AND ASK HIM WHAT HE WANTS YOU TO DO
Almost always they return from that experience saying well. I suppose I had better go on a mission. For some of them it is then time for me to say:
Now we both understand that you are not quite prepared so let us begin to take the steps by which you will be qualified to go.
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