"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

"He saw them toiling in rowing"

Mt. Timpanogos Temple, 2008 by David Jolley

My last semester of coursework has begun and I couldn't be more excited for May to come!  It is strange to think that after this semester I will never take another college class again.  I have now been in college for approximately 11 years, a full third of my entire life.  Strangely enough, by the time I graduate, I will have been a college student for at least as long as I was a student in the public schools.  I could only wish that all of that study and training carried with it a large income and immediate job offers, but as we all know, life hardly ever offers us just what we would wish for.  Perhaps, however, there is some great wisdom in never getting exactly what we hope and wish for.  Perhaps no mortal experience could be more challenging and dangerous than to always get what we want, how we want it, when we want it.

Along these lines, I have thought a lot about an experience I had in the Mount Timpanogos Temple a couple of weeks ago when I went to do some ordinance work for the dead.  The wait was fairly surprising for a weeknight and so I found myself with ample time to sit and read in the scriptures before they were ready for me.  From time to time, I just open the pages and read wherever it lands.  This was one of those times where that approach actually proved to be a blessing rather than an exercise in reading about various Levitical practices surrounding the Old Testament (my apologies if anyone is extremely excited by the book of Leviticus).

One of the places I ended up reading was Mark 6:45-51.  In these verses I found an important message for me and perhaps it is worthwhile to others as well.  It is the story of the Savior walking on the water. Whereas Matthew emphasizes Peter's simultaneous experience with walking on the water, Mark's account (which most seem to believe came from Peter) is uniquely focused on the Savior.  The context of the story is interesting.  The Savior had just fed the five thousand and after everyone had eaten, He commanded His disciples "to get into the ship, and go to the other side before Bethsaida" (Mark 6:45), and to then wait for Him there.  When they had left and gotten out onto the Sea of Galilee, "He departed into a mountain to pray" (Mark 6:46).

It is here, with the Savior on the mountain and the disciples on the sea that the story became applicable to me.  While He was there on the mountain communing with His Father, a storm arose on the Sea.  Not long before this event the disciples had found themselves in a similar storm with the Master asleep on the boat, prompting their worried petition, "Master, carest thou not that we perish?" and His subsequent rebuke of the storm with the simple words "Peace, be still" (Mark 4:38-39).  But now they were alone in the ship and the Savior was not readily available to calm the storm for them.  What we read, instead is "And he saw them toiling in rowing; for the wind was contrary unto them" (Mark 6:48).  He was not unmindful of their plight.  He saw them and watched over them.

The reaction of the disciples during this storm was so different than the last.  When an immediate miracle was not available for the asking, they found the strength to keep rowing against the wind.  It's doubtful that they made much progress, for the wind was indeed "contrary to them."  But given the option between rowing and sinking, they continued to row.  The Savior sat there on the mountain watching them for some time.  "About the fourth watch of the night [somewhere between 2 and 4 in the morning], he cometh unto them walking upon the sea, and would have passed them by.  But when they saw him walking upon the sea, they supposed it had been a spirit, and cried out: For they all saw him, and were troubled.  And immediately he talked with them, and saith unto them, Be of good cheer: it is I; be not afraid.  And he went up unto them into the ship; and the wind ceased" (Mark 6:48-51).  He let them struggle and row against the wind for several hours.  And even when the time came for Him to come to them, it was necessary for them to hail Him before He came into the ship and the winds calmed down.

I believe that the Lord does this for each of us from time to time.  It sounds harsh and uncaring, that He would watch us struggle and row against strong winds when the power is in Him to calm the winds with a simple phrase.  But the disciples grew by struggling against the storm.  As painful as it can be to contemplate, we all grow by doing hard things, by drinking bitter cups, by rowing against the storm.

The part of the story that I love is that the record does not say that the Savior calmed the winds.  It says that "the wind ceased."  Life holds all kinds of storms for us.  Some of these are long and violent and cause us to wonder if they will ever end.  But storms end, winds calm down, and life goes on.  Indeed, life not only goes on, it gets better and better in the process.  We don't need a miracle to calm every storm.  Sometimes we just need to batten down the hatches, be patient, and keep rowing with faith that the Lord is watching over us and will never give us more than we can truly handle.  Indeed, often the words "Peace, be still" are meant not so much for the storm as they are for us.  If we will trust God, He will give us the strength to keep rowing and moving forward throughout the storm.

Brett

"I Knew Thee"

Much to my dismay, the time finally came for me to go back to Texas this week after a long and refreshing Christmas break.  I flew back on Thursday and it seems like I have been back here for a month already.  No matter how old I get, I suspect that it will always be hard for me to leave my home and those that I love.  But in some ways I find this refreshing.  It means that I am loved and more importantly, it means that I love others--particularly my family.  I suppose if you have to have a hard time with something in this world, there are worse things to have a hard time with than struggling with homesickness and missing one's friends and family.

I had such a wonderful time at home.  In addition to being able to see my own family, I was blessed to be able to see Julianne each day and to spend part of my holidays with her and her wonderful family.  She gave me a beautiful briefcase that I am looking forward to using this summer if I get a position teaching a Doctrine and Covenants class at BYU.  It looks really sharp and hopefully will disguise the fact that I don't look all that professorial on my own.

This is a little later than age 4, but just in case you don't believe that
I was a blond little boy, here is proof.

The last day or two before I flew home, I also reacquainted myself with a favorite past time of mine: digging through old boxes at my parents's home in search of family treasures (old letters, diaries, photographs, etc).  I'm certain that this sounds absolutely boring to most people under the sun, but I wouldn't make a very good historian if I didn't love finding old documents and trying to find something of value in them.  Luckily for me, my parents have a house filled with treasures like these and I am as giddy as a child in a candy store when I am looking through them.

This week I found a copy of a diary that my Nana Haycock wrote in 1985.  While I was reading through some of the entries, I was struck by just how well my Nana knew each of her grandchildren and how up to date she was on our lives.  One entry in particular stood out to me.  On Thursday April 18, 1985, she recorded a small birthday party that she and my grandfather had had with my family celebrating my fourth birthday (which would take place on the 21st).  Then my Nana wrote a few lines about me.  "He will be 4 years old on the 21st--and is such a handsome little blond, blue-eyed little fellow [I'll take such compliments wherever I can get them :)].  He loves books, lots of "papers"--pencils, etc, etc--a bit more on the serious side than many little boys; still loves lots of trucks, cars and such, however.  He and Lynley make quite a pair--she likes to follow Brett closely--a "me too" and needs to be included in all his activities--between them they can make life interesting."

I smiled as I read this little description of myself.  I'm sure my Nana was being polite in merely saying that my sister Lynley and I could "make life interesting."  But what stood out to me in this little diary entry was just how well my Nana knew me by the time I was four years old.  Somehow, by this point in my life--before I could read or write on my own--my Nana had understood that books and papers and a certain measure of seriousness (whether for good or for bad) were important parts of who I was as a person.  As I thought about this, I was reminded of my patriarchal blessing.  Although Patriarch Meryl Hymas is a close friend of my parents, I didn't spend much time around him while I was growing up.  Yet the things he said in my blessing were spot on and identified parts of my character and personality that I was just barely beginning to realize at the time he uttered them.

These two small examples were vivid reminders of the fact that our lives do not begin here when we are born.  The Lord told Jeremiah, "Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee; and before thou camest forth out of the womb I sanctified thee, and I ordained thee a prophet unto the nations" (Jeremiah 1:5).  So it is for each of us.  We may not have been called to be Prophets like Jeremiah, but we were nevertheless there, in the presence of the Lord before we came here.  And in coming here, we bring with us characteristics and personality traits that are thousands of years old, shaped by experiences and choices that we no longer recall.  One day the curtains will be pulled back and we will remember those experiences and choices and we will see that so much of who we are and what we love was shaped in the presence of our Father and His Divine Son.  What a wonderful experience that will be!

Just as my Nana knew me by the time I was four, I know that our Father in Heaven knows each of us perfectly.  He knows our likes and our dislikes; our fears and our struggles; our triumphs and our tragedies.  He knows us perfectly and He loves us perfectly.

Brett

A Tribute to a Wonderful Man

President and Sister Bawden

Yesterday while I was at the Church History Library in Salt Lake, I learned of the death of my Mission President, President William D. Bawden.  I was taken by surprise because he has always been such a pillar of strength to me.  He was a friend, a confidant, a wise counselor, and an example of righteousness in my life, and I will miss him dearly.

Every now and again we come across someone who blesses our life for eternity; who shows us the way of the Master not by lofty speeches or high-sounding sermons, but by love, meekness, gentleness, and godliness.  President Bawden was one of those men.  I don't remember many of the things he said, but I will never forget the way that he made me feel.

When I first arrived in Arkansas, I was lonely and scared.  All during my growing up years, I had been labeled as "shy," and I didn't know how I would possibly be able to fulfill my calling as a missionary.  President Bawden believed in me, encouraged me, and taught me that I had something to share.

I will never forget the first day that I met him.  Two things stand out about that day.  Back in those days, you could go to the gate to wait for those who were arriving and so President and the Assistants to the President were there to greet us (the arriving missionaries) at the gate.  As we walked through the airport, I remember President Bawden telling us how much we would love the people of Arkansas, that we would learn so much from their love of the Savior.  That statement was so very true, and has never left me.  I knew right then that I had a Mission President who loved the people and who could see their goodness even as baptismal numbers were relatively low.  The second thing that impressed me was our first interview, later that day.  I was self-conscious about my Spanish and I assumed that if there were Spanish elders in Arkansas, then my Mission President must also speak Spanish.  As he greeted me for our interview, he asked me to offer a prayer.  Still thinking that he spoke Spanish, I asked if he wanted me to offer it in Spanish--assuming that he would want to see just how much this young elder had picked up in the MTC.  President Bawden chuckled and said that he would like to know what I was saying and so he requested that I pray in English.  It wasn't embarrassing or humiliating, just good light-hearted humor that set a young self-conscious elder at ease in this new and frightening situation.

I don't have the words available to pay a proper tribute to President Bawden, but I pray that my life will be constantly guided by the principles he taught me and the kindness and love he demonstrated to me.  My life will be forever blessed by my association with William D. Bawden, Jr.

Brett

The Widow's Mite

The Widow's Mite

At long last and much to my relief, this semester is almost over.  This time next Sunday I will be happily at home with family and with Julianne, beginning to enjoy the Christmas season.  It is always hard when you are in school because Christmas time can't really begin until everything else is finished.  The temperatures in Fort Worth also tend to make it feel more like October than December.  But soon enough I will be home with family, decorations, and plenty of Christmas cheer!

I don't have much to write this week because quite frankly I am about authored out right now.  But here is something I studied and thought about for my lesson on tithing today.

This week I was perhaps more impressed than I have ever been before as I read the story of the widow's mite.  I was struck by the setting and the way that this dear woman fit into it.  With less than a week remaining in his mortal life, the Savior was using an opportunity to train his disciples, the men that would have to become the faces of His Church and stand before the world, testifying with power of the truth of His gospel.  He warned them about becoming like "the scribes which love to go in long clothing, and love salutations in the marketplaces, And the chief seats in the synagogues, and the uppermost rooms at feasts: Which devour widows' houses, and for a pretence make long prayers" (Mark 12:38-40).  In short, He warned His disciples about becoming men who preach for show and live the gospel outwardly, but not inwardly.  He didn't want them to become popular preachers even though He desired them to become powerful and bold witnesses to all the world.

And then, watching the people cast money into the treasury, with some rich men making large and very visible donations, He spotted this poor woman who exemplified everything He wanted His disciples to be.  "And there came a certain poor widow, and she threw in two mites, which make a farthing.  And he called unto him his disciples, and saith unto them, Verily I say unto you, That his poor widow hath cast more in than all they which have cast into the treasury: For all they did cast in of their abundance; but she of her want did cast in all that she had, even all her living" (Mark 12:42-44).  While others were worshiping for show, allowing the sounds of their donations to witness their wealth and "generosity" to the world, this poor widow cast in two mites that would likely not have made a single sound when they hit the other coins.  Why was she making this donation when she had so little?  Surely her two mites would do almost nothing toward the upkeep of the Temple?  Was it even worth it for her to give these two small coins?

The donation of this poor widow was not simply all her living, it was all of her heart and all of her love.  Unless I am mistaken, this poor woman was as aware of the large donations others were making as everyone else was.  Perhaps she made her donation almost timidly, knowing it was so little compared to what others were giving.  But her love of God impelled her to make it, no matter how little it was.  It was this gift, the gift of her whole soul, that made her the example the Savior wanted His disciples to see and follow.  The gift of her soul touched the very God of Heaven and was acceptable to Him.

I imagine that this poor widow never thought anyone else noticed her that day.  But her offering has been enshrined in the hearts and minds of men and women for two thousand years because the only person whose opinion mattered that day did notice her and fully accepted her great sacrifice.

As one who has been given so much more of this world's goods, I pray that I might be blessed to be able to give in the same way this good woman gave.  I pray that my acts of obedience will not be done to show off before the world, but that they might be acts of devotion and discipleship driven by a sincere love of God.  I pray that my offering might be even half as weighty as was the gift of this dear woman.

Brett

"I require all"

I've finally made it to the end of the semester!  This has truly been one of the longest and most intense semesters of my life, and just the mere contemplation of the fact that I am only 3.5 class periods, 1 book, and approximately 20 pages of writing away from being finished with it makes me very happy indeed.  And then on the flip side I realize that all of that must be done before noon a week from Thursday, so it will be a very busy week and a half.  But come December 14 at 6 am as I board the plane to Denver or Phoenix (I forget which) en route to Utah, I will be very a very happy man.  I will also be very grateful if my second bout of sickness this semester (this time mixed with the worst asthma flare up I've had in a decade) will be completely over by then.  Needless to say, it's been an eventful week.

But today as I've been thinking about my eventful week and everything I need to accomplish in the next week and a half before three weeks of joy and emancipation, I have come to the realization that I am grateful for challenges and difficult requirements.  Challenges and difficult requirements allow us opportunities to experience the Lord's blessings in ways and at times that we would never be able to experience if all were ease and luxury.  For instance, if someone had asked me on Sunday how I would feel if I knew that by Monday night I was going to become so sick with my asthma and a second cold that I would end up needing to visit the doctor three times this week, I would likely have told you that this scenario was one of the worst possible things that could happen to me right now.  There was simply too much to be done, and being sick was not on my list of desired experiences.  But being ordered onto bed rest and having to miss two classes and a discussion group turned out to be great blessings because they gave me time to write without needing to worry about class for a couple of days.  Somehow, the Lord knew what I needed and was able to use these circumstances to help me.

Joseph Smith Jr. Journal, 12 July 1838, manuscript text of D&C 119 from Joseph Smith Papers Website

I came across another example of this lesson today as I began studying for my lesson on tithing next Sunday.  Characteristically when I study for a lesson on a specific doctrine, I go first to the most specific text I can remember on that doctrine.  Today I turned to D&C 119, which gives us the definition of tithing as paying "one tenth of all [our] interest annually" and reminds us that tithing is to be "a standing law unto [the Lord's people] forever" (D&C 119:4).  I wasn't expecting to stay here long, as the definition in verse four was all that I had come for.  But the historian inside myself got the better of me and I decided that it was important for me to read the verse in context, and since it was such a short section that wasn't hard.  What I found there, however, completely changed my views of this section and sent me looking for more material in my trusty copy of The Joseph Smith Papers Journals Volume 1 (abbreviated JSPJ).

I wanted to know the context in which this revelation had come about.  I knew that the revelation had been given on July 8, 1838, not long after Joseph Smith and the body of the Saints had moved from Kirtland to Missouri.  The Prophet's Journal (pictured above) didn't give much context, except for showing the question that had preceded the revelation.  The leaders of the Church apparently had asked, "O! Lord show unto thy servants how much thou requirest of the properties of thy people for a Tithing?" (JSPJ 1:288)  This was a curious question to me.  It isn't often in the Church that we ask the Lord "How much do you want?"  In some regards it seemed to me like the Brethren were asking, "How much do we have to ask for?"  And while I am probably reading too much into the words on the page, it seemed to be a question asked with a measure of trepidation.

But then I began to consider the context in which they were asking this.  The Church was less than a year removed from the collapse of the Kirtland Safety Society, an event which had dramatically affected the membership and leadership of the Church.  Several members of the Quorum of the Twelve had apostatized and been excommunicated along with other high ranking officials who had questioned Joseph in the aftermath of the collapse.  Further, the whole nation was in the middle of a deep financial panic and depression, an event that ruined banks and businesses all across the country.  Joseph, Sidney, Brigham, and others had escaped Kirtland by the skin of their teeth.  And now, here in Missouri (where against all possible odds, things were only set to get worse), they had communities and temples to build.  Such things cost money, but asking for money from the Saints must have seemed to threaten to undo the remainder of the Church.  How could Joseph, at a time like this, approach the impoverished Saints with a message about tithing?

Given this context, the Lord's answer surprised me.  He did not start out by defining tithing as one tenth.  He started out by saying "Verily thus saith the Lord, I require all their surplus property to be put into the hands of the bishop of my church in Zion, for the building of mine house, and for the laying of the foundation of Zion and for the priesthood, and for the debts of the Presidency of my Church" (D&C 119:1-2).  I was impressed that in this situation, the Lord did not lower the requirement of asking for the all of the Saints.  Tithing was a commandment in addition to, not in place of, the Law of Consecration.  The Lord reminded the Saints that He required their all and He reminded them why He required it: to build temples, to erect Zion, and to do the work of the Church.

Given the circumstances, this may seem like a lot to ask.  It may seem unmerciful and perhaps even cruel to ask so much of a people who had so very little.  As a missionary few commitments were harder for me to ask of my investigators than tithing, because I knew how little they had and I know how scary a proposition tithing can be.  But I am grateful for a God who does not lessen the requirements he makes upon us when times are hard and funds are low.  No, if He truly believes in us and in our potential to become like him, those are the very moments in which He must keep the requirements high and unchanged.  No person has ever been made greater by giving or doing less; by having the expectations upon them lowered.  When God asks for our all, He asks for it with the full confidence that it is a price we are capable of paying, and for which He intends to reimburse us in full.

The record doesn't indicate just what the reaction of the Saints was to this revelation, but it has been accepted time and time again by the body of the Church.  Faithful saints have discovered joy in paying their tithes and offerings, and joy in consecrating their time, talents, and means to the work of Zion.  I am grateful for a Heavenly Father who loves me enough to require my best.  He knows me well enough to know when there are things that I need His help to do.  But He never allows His concerns that I succeed to diminish the amount that He asks me to do.  There are certainly days when I fall short of those expectations (in fact, there are seldom any days when I fully measure up), But He nevertheless keeps the bar high and continues to coach me toward the goal of eternal achievement.  High bars and lofty expectations, together with a forgiving heart when I fall short, have thus become emblems of His love for me as His son.

Brett

Ammon, a Descendent of Zarahemla

I had a wonderful Thanksgiving this week.  I was only able to be home from 10:00 am Tuesday until 6:00 am this morning, but I had a wonderful time with family and friends.  I enjoyed a delicious Thanksgiving dinner at home with my family and then another delicious dinner later that day with Julianne, her sister Rebecca, her brother-in-law Neil, and their daughter Madi.  I didn't know that I still had a "two Thanksgiving dinner day" left in me.  I was certain that I had finished with those some 11 years ago when I enjoyed my last Thanksgiving in my mission.  But I thoroughly enjoyed both dinners and didn't manage to make myself sick in the process.  And then, perhaps an even greater accomplishment was eating at Tucanos the next day with Julianne.  I'm certain that the surgeon general would not approve of such a slate, but I was mildly proud of myself nonetheless.  I didn't really want to come back to Texas today; and I surely didn't want to come back to the three major papers yet to be written and four books left to read.  But I suppose these things have to be done so I will do them.  I did far too little homework this week, but it was nice to feel like a regular person for once and just enjoy some time at home.

Minerva Teichert, "Ammon Before King Limhi"

[Insert transition sentence that I am too lazy to write at the moment here].  This last week or so I have been reminded of one of my favorite Book of Mormon characters.  He is a man who gets little if any notice, and is generally confused with a man whom I confidently assume was named after him.  I'm writing about Ammon, the descendent of Zarahemla, who appears in Mosiah 7-8, 21-22.  Although he doesn't get much attention when we talk about the Book of Mormon, I firmly believe that he deserves some.

Ammon finds his way into the Book of Mormon some three years after the beginning of the reign of King Mosiah II, the son of King Benjamin.  Mormon tells us that Mosiah was "desirous to know concerning the people who went up to dwell in the land of Lehi-Nephi, or in the city of Lehi-Nephi; for his people had heard nothing from them from the time they left the land of Zarahemla."  And apparently Mosiah's people were anxious to hear from this group also, for they "wearied [Mosiah] with their teasings" (Mosiah 7:1).  To placate these complaints, Mosiah selected "sixteen of their strong men" to go and find this group that had left the land of Zarahemla with Zeniff.  At the head of this group was Ammon, "he being a strong and mighty man, and a descendent of Zarahemla" (Mosiah 7:3).

I have found through the years that the short genealogies listed in the scriptures are not things to be passed over and forgotten, but rather that they contain important information that helps us to understand the stories we are reading more fully.  The comment about Ammon's genealogy is short, but I believe it speaks volumes.  Zarahemla had been the king over the people of Zarahemla at the time that Mosiah I and his people found the city.  So Ammon was not merely a descendent of Zarahemla, he was (at least to some degree) an heir to a lost throne.  But this was not just any throne and Zarahemla had not just been any king.  Zarahemla had been a descendent of Mulek (Mosiah 25:2) who was the son of Zedekiah, king of Judah at the time that Lehi had left Jerusalem.  And although one of his brothers had had a higher and more direct claim upon the throne of David, Zedekiah was a descendent of David with a lineal claim upon his throne.  Ammon was therefore an heir of David with at least some claim to the Davidic throne.  Indeed, Ammon had a stronger claim to the throne than did Mosiah whom he served, for Lehi's family had not ceased to be a part of Israel when they came to the Americas.

Hopefully you will forgive the long and boring genealogy, but I think it is significant.  Although my study of history has largely been confined to American history, I know enough about European and Asian history to know that competing claims to authority usually ends up in war and bloodshed.  What's more, most strong men and women who have a legitimate claim to a throne usually don't allow somebody else to rule in their place.  And they certainly don't become dutiful servants of those other rulers.  But Ammon did.

I have often wondered what it was like for Ammon to be in this position of being an heir of David, with a legitimate right to rule in Israel (of which the Nephites were a part), but nevertheless being a faithful servant of Mosiah.  Furthermore, I have wondered what it was like for Mosiah to fully trust such a mighty and strong man with legitimate claims to the throne he (Mosiah) occupied.  Like David and Jonathan before them, we see only faithfulness and trust between these two men who might have been enemies.  Far from leading wars of rebellion in search of power, Ammon led what turned out to be a rescue mission that answered the prayers and pleadings of a lost group of Nephites.

In one way or another, all of us will have occasion to play the role of Ammon in our lives.  We all have moments when we are perhaps asked to follow and support someone who seems less talented or less qualified than us.  We may, at times, be asked to serve rather than lead, even though we know that we could get the job done well if we were asked to lead.  Similarly, in one way or another, all of us will have occasion to play the role of Mosiah and be asked to lead a person who may be more qualified than we see ourselves as being.  Like Mosiah we will have to be humble and trusting of such individuals, making good use of their strong talents and giving them opportunities to utilize them without fearing their stealing the spotlight and the mantle of leadership.  At one point or another, we will all have to come to a full realization of the truth spoken by the Lord that "all have not every gift given unto them . . . and to every man is given a gift by the Spirit of God.  To some is given one, and to some is given another, that all may be profited thereby" (D&C 46:11-12).

May we all learn to appreciate the gifts of others and also to serve in the callings to which we are appointed and uphold and sustain those who are called to preside over us.  By so doing, we will gain the power to rescue lost souls and to build the Kingdom of God on earth.

Brett