This Shall Ye Do In Remembrance

Today is my beautiful wife Ashley's birthday! She is such a beautiful soul who has made me happier than I have ever known.  She is sweet and pure and kind and wonderful, and every day with her is a blessing. I'm more grateful for her than I could possibly express.  Her birthday completes a set of four important December days that testify to me of the Atonement.  On the 11th (today), I celebrate her birthday.  On the 19th, I commemorate my Dad's passing.  On the 23rd we celebrate the birthday of the Prophet Joseph.  And on the 25th, we celebrate the birth of the Savior of the World.  Each of these events, reminds me of the goodness of God and of the gift of His Son and His Son's atonement.  It is a beautiful month of testimony!

Yesterday I had a thought as I was reading scriptures.  I had wondered for awhile why the Savior had waited until the end of his first day's visit to heal the Nephites.  Why, when he had had the people come forth one by one, didn't he just heal them right then and there of their afflictions.  My original thoughts, and they may not be wrong, were that He had either taken care of the most important things first, or that He had waited until the faith of the people was sufficient to be healed.

Yesterday another idea occurred to me.  I began thinking about the Savior's visit in terms of a teacher giving a lesson.  Every teacher and every writer knows that there are two moments in a lesson or in a book or article that those in attendance are most apt to remember: the beginning and the ending.  Many of the details in the middle are apt to be forgotten, but what is said in the beginning and the ending are the things that need to be remembered.

So structured as a lesson, the Savior began by introducing Himself and inviting the people to come forward one by one and feel the wounds of His love in His hands and feet.  There, standing before them and tangible and touchable, was evidence of Divine love and evidence of the atonement.  The Savior closed by introducing the sacrament, providing the people with emblems that represented those very wounds.  In connection with the sacrament, He healed their sick and blessed the people and their children.

Each time that they would then partake of those sacred emblems, they could remember the feeling of those wounds.  And then they would remember that the Savior had healed them and blessed them as they came unto Him.  What a wonderful opportunity to remember the sacrament must have represented for those privileged souls!

Most of us are not privileged to physically feel the wounds in His hands and feet and side in this life, but each of us has the opportunity to feel His healing and His blessings.  Each of us can then approach those sacred emblems with memories of what that atonement has meant, means, and will mean for us in the future.  What a great blessing!

Brett

The Gift of Seeing

This was definitely an interesting and unpredictable week. But being as none of you can go to most of your favorite websites without hearing about the election, I'm going to stop at that small observation. Instead I wanted to focus on an impression that has begun to occur to me during the past several weeks.

In the scriptures we read about Prophets, Seers, and Revelators. We are told that "a seer is greater than a prophet" as "a seer is a revelator and a prophet also; and a gift which is greater can no man have, except he should possess the power of God, which no man can; yet a man may have great power given him from God" (Mosiah 8:15-16). The scriptures explain further that "a seer can know of things which are past, and also of things which are to come, and by them shall all things be revealed, or, rather, shall secret things be made manifest, and hidden things shall come to light, and things which are not known shall be made known by them, and also things which shall be made known by them which otherwise could not be known. Thus God has provided a means that man, through faith, might work mighty miracles; therefore he becometh a great benefit to his fellow beings" (Mosiah 8:17-18).

Obviously when we speak of prophets, seers, and revelators (and especially of seers), we tend to refer to those who hold prophetic keys. But yet the scriptures also define the term "prophecy" more broadly, as "the testimony of Jesus" (Revelation 19:10) and Moses declared emphatically, "Would God that all the LORD's people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his spirit upon them!" (Numbers 11:29) In other words, there is a sense in which each of us is to be a prophet (with a small p). We are all to obtain and share the testimony of Jesus. Similarly, the Prophet Joseph declared, "God hath not revealed any thing to Joseph, but what he will make known unto the Twelve & even the least Saint may know all things as fas as he is able to bear them" (Joseph Smith, discourse, circa 26 June to 2 July 1839). In other words, in our own ways, and always in accordance with the principles of keys and stewardships, we are to be revelators. Which leads me to seership.

Perhaps I may be forgiven if, from time to time, I have aspired to certain callings where I could be seen or heard. I assume I am not the only person who has struggled with the desire for attention in the Church. Recently as I was praying and seeking to repent of this desire and asking for the Lord to inspire me to be called to any calling where I could serve (I did not have a calling), I had an impression come to my mind: "In this Church we serve to see, not to be seen."  That impression came like a lightning bolt to my mind and opened up new vistas of understanding, particularly concerning the calling of a seer.

Traditionally we think of a seer as one who has tremendous visions like Joseph Smith and Section 76, or his magisterial vision in January 1836, a part of which has become D&C 137. And indeed, such visions do come in the Lord's own time and way, and particularly to those who hold the keys of His kingdom (though they are not limited to them). But as I thought about this impression, I thought about the fact that the basic gift of a seer is the ability to see; and to see things that others do not see. Ammon described it as the ability to see "secret things" and "hidden things" in Mosiah 8. But as our hymn reminds us, celestial visions are not the only hidden and secret things in this world, for "in the quiet heart is hidden, sorrow that the eye can't see" ("Lord I would Follow Thee," Hymn 220). The gift of seership is not just to see that which is past or that which is to come, but also to see that which is present, but which is hidden and concealed from our view. It is therefore a gift that each of us needs to seek for an obtain if we are to truly "bear one another's burdens, that they may be light" (Mosiah 18:8).

To truly keep our baptismal covenants requires us to learn to see as our current Prophet, Seer, and Revelator learned to see. President Thomas S. Monson has been a seer for a long time because he learned to see the pains, heartaches, struggles, and challenges of those around him; and particularly those for whom he had a stewardship. The young bishop who cared for all those widows was a seer because he perceived their challenges and their pains and then he reached out to their relief. The calling as an Apostle did not bring the gift of seership to Thomas S. Monson any more than it brought the gift of faith to him. No, he brought those gifts to the calling, and then the Lord added upon them as he was willing to continue magnifying his calling and administering to the needs of those whom he was called to serve.

Because each calling in this Church carries with it a stewardship for souls and a commission to serve, each calling in this Church carries with it an opportunity to seek for and obtain the gift of spiritual sight, the gift of seership. As we pray to see more clearly, it will be as though we are the blind man in John 9. Through the hands of those whom He has appointed, He will lay His hands upon us (see D&C 36:2) and give us the opportunity to open our eyes and to begin seeing the needs of others related to that calling. If we are willing and will listen to the promptings of the Spirit, secret and hidden worries, needs, and concerns will begin to manifest themselves; we will begin to see what others cannot see.

Very few Latter-day Saints will ever be called to be an apostle. Very few will ever be sustained as a Prophet, Seer, and Revelator. Few will ever have the visions of heaven opened to their view during this life. But every single Latter-day Saint is entitled to and should seek to possess the spirit of prophecy and revelation.  And every single Latter-day Saint should seek to possess the gift of seership within his or her various responsibilities in the Kingdom. We need these gifts in our homes and in our families. We need these gifts as home and visiting teachers. We need these gifts in our various callings. To be able to receive revelation, to see needs, and to share our heartfelt testimonies of Jesus will allow us to "walk with God" (Moses 6:34; Moses 7:68) as did Enoch and his people.

Brett

Rereading 3 Nephi 11

This past week, I've been back in 3 Nephi 11.  This chapter holds special meaning for all Latter-day Saints, myself included.  When I was a missionary, this was the first chapter that we asked people to read out of the Book of Mormon.  In spite of the fact that they had no idea who the Nephites, the Lamanites, etc. were, it had a way of touching them.  Often my investigators struggled with reading, and so we would read it with them and explain it to them.  The visit of Jesus and the experience of the people in touching his wounds and falling at his feet moved them.  Reading these words with the people were some of my favorite experiences as a missionary, as the Spirit testified to their truth.  And so over the years, I would suspect that I have read this chapter well more than 100 times.  I know the story inside and out.  And yet, this week as I've turned back to this old familiar chapter, there have been things there that I never saw before.  So I wanted to write about a few of those things.

I have always been touched by the beginning of this chapter, as "a great multitude gathered together, of the people of Nephi, round about the temple which was in the land Bountiful" (3 Nephi 11:1).  In the shadow of the temple, they were "conversing about this Jesus Christ, of whom the sign had been given concerning his death" (3 Nephi 11:2).  It was in that setting that they heard a voice come out of the heavens.  Twice they heard the voice and did not understand it, but did not instantly know from whence it came.  Here they were, people gathered around a temple, speaking of Jesus, and yet they still did not comprehend the voice.  I love this because it is a reminder that even for those who are striving to be faithful, it requires significant work to come to understand the voice of the Lord.  They heard it; they felt it; but they did not understand it until they "did open their ears to hear it," "did fix "their eyes . . . toward the sound thereof," and "did look steadfastly towards heaven, from whence the sound came" (3 Nephi 11:5).  Understanding the voice of heaven required more than just ears; it required the effort of their whole soul.

But here is where my learning began.  The third time they heard the voice, they understood the words.  It was the Father introducing His Beloved Son.  He said, "Behold my Beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased, in whom I have glorified my name--hear ye him" (3 Nephi 11:7). And with that introduction, they saw the Savior descend from heaven.  But they still struggled to connect the words that they had heard with the things that they saw, thinking that the Savior was an angel rather than the very Son of God.  After He had descended, He spoke to them, saying "Behold, I am Jesus Christ, whom the prophets testified shall come into the world.  And behold, I am the life and the light of the world; and I have drunk out of that bitter cup which the Father hath given me, and have glorified the Father in taking upon me the sins of the world, in the which I have suffered the will of the Father in all things from the beginning" (3 Nephi 11:10-11).  With those words, those assembled remembered the words of the prophets and fell at His feet.  They finally understood, and with that understanding, they were ready to come unto Him and to feel the wounds in His hands and feet and side and then be taught.

As I thought about the early part of this chapter, I realized that it is a chapter about coming unto Christ.  The people began as good people who knew of Christ, who had heard the words of the Prophets, who loved His Temple, and who were spiritual enough to hear His voice.  And yet they had still not fully come unto Him.  There were righteous people who had faith in Him (see Ether 12:7), and yet they still had a lot of room to grow.  They heard the voice but they did not understand it.  When they understood the voice, they still did not fully understand what they were seeing with their eyes.  Perhaps some of us, at least myself, may be like these people.  Perhaps, we have not yet fully come unto Christ and do not yet enjoy the fullness of the blessings He offers us.

Those blessings came as the people experienced the gospel, linking what they had learned from the Prophets and heard from the voice of the Father with what they were seeing with their eyes and feeling with their hearts. Three times in this short experience, the word behold is used.  The Father invited the people to "behold" His Son.  The Son invited them to "behold" that He is the Messiah.  And the Son invited them to "behold" that He was the light and life of the world, that He had drunken the dregs of the bitter cup, that He had glorified the Father, that He had taken upon Him the sins of the world; and that He had suffered and done the will of the Father from the beginning.  The 1828 Webster's dictionary defines the word behold as "to fix the eyes upon; to see with attention; to observe with care."  It is not just to see something, it is to give rapt attention to what we are seeing; to see with an effort to comprehend.  As the people saw in this way, their hearts were touched and they "remembered that it had been prophesied among them that Christ should show himself unto them after his ascension into heaven" (3 Nephi 11:12).  It was this remembering that brought full comprehension to their minds and hearts, and to behold Him with perfect clarity, driving them to their knees in worship.  Is it any wonder that we are asked to "always remember Him" (D&C 20:77).

Only when they had fallen to their knees, only when they had remembered and truly understood, were they ready to come.  At that moment the Savior invited them to come and "feel the prints of the nails in my hands and in my feet, that ye may know that I am the God of Israel, and the God of the whole earth, and have been slain for the sins of the world" (3 Nephi 11:14).  Much later, after He had taught them His doctrine, He would heal them and bless their little ones (see 3 Nephi 17).

Perhaps some of you are like me and have an idea that if the Savior were to come today, the first thing He would do would be to heal us of all of our afflictions and challenges.  At the very least, He would immediately invite us forward to touch His sacred scars.  But 3 Nephi 11 suggests something different.  Before we can come unto Him and before He can heal us--even before He can really teach us--we must hear, understand, behold, comprehend, remember, and fall down in worship.  He cannot truly teach us nor heal the greatest wounds of our souls until we come unto Him and feel the power and depth of what He has done for us.  And we will not come unto Him and feel the power and depth of what He has done for us if we do not truly know Him and believe in Him.  We will not truly know Him and believe Him unless and until we have heard, recognized, and understood His voice.

And so we begin like the people of Nephi, spending time in His house, speaking of Christ and the prophets, and listening for His voice.  Having heard His voice, we seek for understanding and comprehension.  We accept the humble invitation of the Father to behold, to truly see and fix our gaze upon, His perfect Son.  And we accept the humble invitation of the Son to behold, to truly see and fix our gaze upon, His perfect sacrifice and His perfect example.  Having done these things, we will remember and come to a new understanding of the words and testimonies of the prophets.  And we will fall to our knees in humble adoration and heightened comprehension of who He is, and what that means for us.  In this humble state, He can lift us up, invite to feel of His sacrifice in greater depth, to be taught with greater clarity, and to be healed of our various afflictions.

That we may all so come.

Brett

Finding Joy

Just a short entry tonight.  I've realized that things are a bit busier on Sundays these days and so I don't always find time to write. This was an interesting conference weekend.  It was my first being married to Ashley and began with her being quite sick on Saturday, which definitely wasn't fun for her.  But all in all we had a good time together listening to the Prophets.

One of my favorite talks was President Russell M. Nelson's talk about "joy" and about how we can find joy in even the most difficult of life's circumstances.  He spoke about Lehi's great words that "men are that they might have joy" (2 Ne. 2:25) and then he talked about how the joy we experience is not dependent upon life's circumstances, but upon the direction of our focus.

His words reminded me of a sacred moment that I experienced nearly a year ago on December 20, 2015.  My Dad had just died the day before.  All of us were in absolute shock, as none of us had had any clue that there was anything wrong with Dad's heart.  I'm not even sure that Dad had any clue--though he did have a propensity for not telling us when he was having surgeries.  But that Saturday was an absolute blur.  To be perfectly honest, I'm not entirely sure what happened that day other than the fact that Dad died, I didn't sleep, and many wonderful people came to show their love and their shock.  Rob and I stayed in Orem that night, not wanting to leave Mom alone and probably not wanting to go anywhere else for ourselves either.

The next morning, Mom needed to make a quick trip out to Pleasant Grove in connection with the funeral and so Rob drove her out there.  Mere seconds after they had left, I became aware that I was alone in the house for the first time since Dad had died and I could see the exact spot where I had seen him and learned that he had passed.  I began to hyperventilate and didn't want to be alone there.  I picked up the phone to call my sister to see if I could go over there rather than be alone in the house at that moment.  But just as I was about to push the call icon, I had a distinct feeling: "Spend some alone with your Dad."  Not only was I supposed to stay in the house alone for that hour, but I was supposed to go out to the area where I had seen him lay and think about him.  In all honesty that impression was counterintuitive to my mind, but I followed it.

Going out to the family room, I knelt down where Dad had last been and began to pray.  With tears streaming down my cheeks, I had a thought that I ought to look at some of the things that Dad might have seen in his last moments of mortality.  A couple of things in particular stood out to me.  One was a small sign that read simply "JOY" and the other was a small carving depicting the Last Supper and the Sacrament.  A lot of other thoughts went through my mind in those moments there as I thought of my Dad, but one of the most profound was that because of what the Sacrament meant, I could indeed have JOY.  Regardless of the pain I was feeling, there were and are answers in the gospel of Jesus Christ, answers that transcended, gave purpose to, and healed the pain of death.  I was still pained and heartbroken by my Dad's death.  I still hurt at his loss and miss him when I think of it today.  But in that sacred moment, I knew that the things of which I had taught and testified for years were all true and had a greater value and power than I had ever understood.  There really were and are answers.  There really was and is healing and comfort.

It was of this joy that President Nelson testified so powerfully today.  No matter the depths of our pain; no matter the size of our loss; there can be and is joy available to each one of us because of Jesus.  It is the ultimate message of hope in a troubled and at times discouraging world.

Brett

A New Season

At the PCC 1986 in some sort of 3 point stance.  Dad is in the blue shirt, I'm on the end.

Saturday begins another BYU football season.  I have to admit that the approach of this particular season is a bit emotional for me.  Anyone who knows me knows that I am as devoted a BYU fan as there is on the face of the earth, to the point that watching them play gives me anxiety.  But it's not worries about wins or losses or whatever that give me pause this year.

My love for BYU football grew out of and was always attached to my relationship with my Dad.  I remember watching the games with him on the rare Saturdays that he had off and then going to games with my Papa Haycock and Aunt Marilyn when Dad had to work.  I remember singing the fight song with Dad.  And I particularly remember watching some of the most important games with him:  The 1988 Freedom Bowl, the 1990 Miami game, the 1996 Cotton Bowl, and so forth.  In recent years, Rob and Dad and I went to many games together at Lavell Edward Stadium.  We cheered together.  Dad calmed me down when my fandom got away with me. Without fail, Dad would buy Rob and I a water and a hot dog, despite our efforts to take care of that for ourselves and for him.  We celebrated wins and commiserated losses.  And mostly we just enjoyed spending time together.

In short, BYU football was always about more than just football for me.  It was and is about the relationships connected with it, and especially my relationships with Dad and Rob.  With that in mind, I made a short trip to the cemetery yesterday and told Dad about the upcoming season.  I'm sure he's busy as there is a lot of work to do where he is, but I decided it wasn't inappropriate to invite him to come to the games with Rob and I this year, if he had time; and that he could bring Grandpa Dowdle and Papa Haycock with him too.  Even if they aren't able to make it, I know that both Rob and I will definitely be thinking of them while we are there.

Brett

Just Checking In

It's been awhile since I last wrote.  I guess that life has gotten pretty busy.  Since then Ashley and I were married, had the honeymoon, and have been working our way back into regular life together.  Regular life is always a bit of a challenge.  I don't know anyone who enjoys waking up at 5 am and then commuting to work an hour, but it's a blessing to have a job that I love and to be able to work for a wife that I adore.

The sealing at the Provo City Center Temple was absolutely wonderful.  My friend Buddy Richards performed the sealing and it was wonderful.  The reception the night before was a beautiful occasion and afterwards my sister Lynley and Ashley's sister Tevi took us up Provo Canyon, up a dirt road most of the way up South Fork where we found this beautiful spot to take pictures.

Ash and I spent a short but wonderful honeymoon in Park City.  On one of the days we decided to drive up the Mirror Lake Highway.  It was absolutely gorgeous.  It was a little different than the regular stuff to do in Park City (less expensive and fewer people), but it was just a beautiful drive and we had a great time!

All in all, things are wonderful.  For a previously single 35 year old man, marriage has its moments where it is an adjustment.  But as Sister Neill F. Marriott said recently, "Love is making space in your life for someone else."  Nothing could be more rewarding than enjoying the space that Ashley has filled in my life.

Brett

But the Greatest of These is Charity

Today is Father's Day (ok, I'm counting it because it's 11:18 pm the night before, but it's close enough).  It is also the six-month anniversary of my Dad's passing.  I wanted to write a short post for my Dad today.  But before I get to that, I wanted to mention one thing that happened this past week.  On Monday, my Mom hosted a bridal shower for my beautiful Ashley.  It was a beautiful occasion that brought together a lot of the wonderful women in my family.  I was honored to see how many of them had come to celebrate with my Ashley--most of them never having met her before.  And then when the time came for Ashley to open the gifts, both Ashley and I were absolutely overwhelmed by the generosity and love of these amazing women.

Since the shower, others have also generously sent us beautiful items for which we are very grateful.  I confess that the gifts are the thing about marriage that are the hardest for me to accept.  I love each of them, but often feel wholly unworthy of such incredible generosity.  I just wanted to take a minute to say thank you to each of you for the blessing that you are in my life.  Each of you has given me a gift of time, friendship, service, and especially love.  I'm reminded of Paul's phrase, "But the greatest of these is charity" (1 Corinthians 13:13).  It is this gift which each of you has given most readily, and for which I am likely most unworthy.  But please know how very grateful I am for your generous bestowals.

This gift is something that my Dad possessed in enormous quantities.  As I've reflected on my Dad in recent months, my admiration of him has grown immensely.  In many ways, I'm not sure I fully appreciated the enormity of my Dad's greatness while he was alive.  Sadly, this is so often the case with the great ones; it takes their passing for us to grasp just how great a man or woman had walked among us.  It was only at the end of the evening that the two disciples on the Emmaus Road grasped who had walked with them, asking "Did not our heart burn within us while he talked with us by the way, and while he opened to us the scriptures?" (Luke 24:32)  At the end of his life, Joseph Smith uttered that famous phrase, "You never knew my heart[;] no man knows my hist[ory]."  Because it is never flashy or self-aggrandizing, it often takes time for us to come to a recognition of true greatness. And my Dad was truly great.

I am convinced that above all else, the thing that made my Dad a great man was his ability to love.  Dad learned to love others in a way that many people never achieve.  While most people--like myself--want to love others upon our own terms and conditions, my Dad discovered how to love people on their terms and conditions; loving them in the way that they needed to be loved, rather than loving them in the way that was easiest for him to love.  This gave Dad the ability to reach people from multiple walks of life and to love them.

It is easy to love people that seem to offer us some sort of advantages in exchange for our love.  In other words, it is easy to bestow effusive praise and love on those that we think may be able to help us get places in this world.  But this kind of quid pro quo relationship is not love.  My Dad didn't think in terms of who could get him places in this world.  He thought about who he could reach out to, who he could bless, who he could build.  As a result, Dad placed little value in the titles that we hold so dear in this world.  Whether someone was a doctor, a superintendent, a principal, a secretary, a teacher, or a janitor wasn't what mattered to my Dad.  What mattered to him was that they were people with hopes, dreams, worries, concerns, and potential.  What mattered to him was that they were his friends.  And all of Dad's friends deserved his time, love, and effort.

My Dad was great because he resisted the temptation to let the titles before and the initials after a name define the man or woman, and whether they were worth his attention.  Dad was great because he saw the potential within people as well as their pains, struggles, and present status.  No matter where they were, he believed that they could become great and that he had an obligation to help them achieve that greatness.  Truly, there "abideth faith, hope, and charity; but the greatest of these is charity."

Brett