"Ye are no more Strangers and Foreigners"

Ephraim Hanks, by Clark Kelley Price

A couple of months ago as I met with my bishop in the YSA ward for tithing settlement, I had brought up the issue of my age.  Since turning 31, I had felt somewhat out of place in the YSA ward, which seemed to be getting younger by the semester.  I told my bishop that I had been thinking of moving over to the family ward, kind of expecting him to say "That isn't necessary yet."  His response, however, was that it was time for me to make that switch and he thanked me for having been in his ward.  I must admit this kind of took me by surprise.  It is a peculiar feeling.  There are, of course, two main reasons for leaving a YSA ward, and everybody hopes that they will leave because of marriage rather than be invited to leave because of their age.  But luckily it had been something that had been on my mind for awhile and I had initiated the conversation, so at least I was somewhat in agreement that the move was a good thing for me.

This last Sunday was my first Sunday in the family ward.  I must admit that the sound of children crying was startling.  Even more startling, however, was the feeling of being alone in a place where I was supposed to feel like I was at home.  This was the first time in my life that I have gone to a Church meeting where I didn't know anyone else.  All throughout my life I have had at least one person that I knew in the Ward I was attending.  Even if I didn't know anyone else, I knew that one person.  Last Sunday I was on my own.  And as the single man sitting by myself, I must confess that for the first hour and a half of Church I did feel like "a stranger and foreigner" (Ephesians 2:19).

This was a unique experience for me because for the first time I can remember, I understood a little bit of what it must be like for investigators and new converts to come into the Church.  Being alone in a new place where everyone else seems to know each other is an uncomfortable feeling.  Of course I should probably have gone and introduced myself to random people and started making friends on my own, but anyone who knows me knows that that isn't really a strong aspect of my personality.  In new places I tend to be quiet and introverted rather than outgoing and social.

Half-way through Sunday School, something interesting happened.  A guy named Mark came and sat down next to me and introduced himself.  We talked about my studies and a few other things and then he proceeded to introduce me to a few people around me.  And suddenly I felt what I've been accustomed to feeling all my years in the Church: a sense of belonging, a sense of being at home.  It was a small act, but it made a world of difference to me.  In that small way, Mark was reenacting a scene that has been played out thousands of times--probably millions of times--throughout the history of the Church: he was rescuing a struggling Saint that he didn't really know.

On October 5, 1856, as Brigham Young stood before the congregation at October Conference, his message was simple: "Many of our brethren and sisters are on the Plains with hand-carts, and probably many are now seven hundred miles from this place, and they must be brought here, we must send assistance to them.  The text [of my sermon] will be to get them here!...That is my religion; that is the dictation of the Holy Ghost that I possess, it is to save the people.  We must bring them in from the Plains, and when we get them here, we will try to keep the same spirit that we have had, and teach them the way of life and salvation; tell them how they can be saved, and how they can save their friends" (Brigham Young, October 5, 1856, Complete Discourses of Brigham Young, 2:1177).  When Brigham gave this discourse, it is likely that few if any in that congregation had ever met a single member of the Martin and Willie Companies that they were being asked to sacrifice and risk their lives for.  All they knew was that those on the plains were members of the Church and were therefore brothers and sisters in the Gospel.  They were family.

Our text has never changed from that uttered by Brigham that October day.  We are to reach out and we are to lift up.  And often that takes little more than an effort to sit down next to a stranger and welcome him or her as a new friend.  In doing this we remember the words of Paul: "Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the household of God; And are built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone" (Ephesians 2:19-20).  They share with us a witness of the Gospel, a witness of the truthfulness of the Restoration, a witness of the divinity and saving power of Jesus Christ.  With a little effort, we can bring them in as fellowcitizens and members of the household of God.

Brett