Christian Courage: The Price of Discipleship

This entry is part of my general conference application series.

Christian Courage: The Price of Discipleship, by Elder Robert D. Hales
Of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles


I have great colleagues at work who have varied backgrounds and religious beliefs. When we discuss religion, which happens more frequently than one might think it would, we do so openly and honestly without arguments or malice. However, my good friend, who works elsewhere, has an almost opposite work environment. He often feels looked down on and the end of jokes and ridicule because he lives what he believes and chooses to follow Christ.

Day. Night.

As I listened to this talk, Elder Hales' words seemed to be the perfect answer to my friend on how he can respond to accusations and ridicule he receives at work. He agreed. It was while studying the talk subsequently that I found specific applications to my life as well. It's nice that inspired words can teach and instruct in near-opposite situations. Elder Hales even acknowledges these differences. I love the following paragraph:

As we respond to others, each circumstance will be different. Fortunately, the Lord knows the hearts of our accusers and how we can most effectively respond to them. As true disciples seek guidance from the Spirit, they receive inspiration tailored to each encounter. And in every encounter, true disciples respond in ways that invite the Spirit of the Lord.

While I knew that the Lord knows our hearts, I don't think I had put that knowledge in the context of conflict resolution, standing as an example, and showing Christian courage before. Furthermore, I felt a bit chastened by the last line—Do I really respond appropriately when I feel challenged?

Probably not.

Should I?

If I want to be like Christ, I should.

Along the same vein, Elder Hales taught:

We must never become contentious when we are discussing our faith. ... More regrettable than the Church being accused of not being Christian is when Church members react to such accusations in an un-Christlike way! May our conversations with others always be marked by the fruits of the Spirit—"love, joy, peace,
longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, [and] temperance" (Galatians 5:22–23).

When I talk with others, including responding to criticism and accusations, I don't want to adopt a patronizingly superior attitude; I want to genuinely love them. Elder Hales reminded me of this, and what my motivation needs to be:

How we should respond to our accusers[?] I reply, we love them. Whatever their race, creed, religion, or political persuasion, if we follow Christ and show forth His courage, we must love them. We do not feel we are better than they are. Rather, we desire with our love to show them a better way—the way of Jesus Christ. His way leads to the gate of baptism, the strait and narrow path of righteous living, and the temple of God. ... Only through [Christ] can we [all] inherit the greatest gift we can receive—eternal life and eternal happiness.

When I'm next having a religious conversation, whether friendly or hostile, I want to remember Elder Hales' reminder to show love. I don't want to just find a way to end the conversation (when it's hostile), like I've done at times in the past; rather, I want to show Christian courage and remember that I'm not just talking about what I believe, I'm testifying of the Truth.

I loved how I felt when Elder Hales taught that the way of Christ leads not just to baptism, as important as baptism is; not just to a righteous way of life, as important as our devotion is; but that the way of Christ leads to the temple of God, to eternal life, and to eternal happiness.

With so much on the line, I don't ever want to respond without the guidance of the Spirit; I want to help others come to Christ, as others have lovingly helped me.

Our Hearts Knit as One

This entry is part of my general conference application series.

Our Hearts Knit as One, by President Henry B. Eyring
First Counselor in the First Presidency


I was thinking of President Eyring's words this last Monday when we had family night. David, my five-year-old, wanted to help me with the lesson, so I guided him to recount a story from the Friend which we had read the night previous. He was hesitant at first—suddenly shy—but warmed up when it came time to testify. The lesson was on listening to the Spirit, and he told of a time when he left a room at a Christmas party when the other children were watching a "bad movie," because he was uncomfortable. He had the greatest smile on his face as he told of how he had done the right thing by following the example of Jesus.

Of this, President Eyring remembered,

Every lesson in family night ... I would find a way to encourage someone to testify of the Savior and His mission. Sometimes the parents did it. On our best nights we found a way to encourage the children to do it, either by presenting the lesson or answering questions. When testimony about the Savior was borne, the Holy Ghost verified it. On those nights we felt our hearts being knit together.

I distinctly remember the Spirit that came into our home when my sweet, pure boy testified of the Holy Ghost and of Christ. We, too, felt our hearts being knit together as a family.

I think this kind of unity can heal our world. President Eyring reminded that "we see increased conflict between peoples in the world around us." What can we do to have this unity? Multiple solutions were discussed in his address, but I really liked the charge to "speak well of each other."

I've been thinking of something I overheard before a stake conference meeting the Saturday after voting (08 Nov 2008). While seated in the chapel, those sitting near me were complaining against a group of people of a particular political persuasion (how's that for alliteration?). In particular, they were trash-talking LDS members who are affiliated with, or vote after a certain manner. Not a very unifying conversation.

Just then, a great friend and local religious leader walked by, who happens to be a known voter of the political party discussed. He was there to be taught from the Spirit, but was instead greeted with a sarcastic, biting question, "Are you excited that your boy won?"

His reply gave me a living example of President Eyrings charge to speak well of each other in unity. After stating that he wasn't in the chapel to talk politics, he said, "If we'll support him as the Articles of Faith teach, I think we'll be surprised at what we can all do together."

As he calmly walked away after this, carrying the same love and spirit that he had before the interchange, I knew that I had been taught. Not only was I shown a powerful example of how to react to conflict, but I was taught the importance of unity and support. Reflecting on this relates to President Eyring's address. He said,

I can promise you a feeling of peace and joy when you speak generously of others in the Light of Christ. ... It will be because the Lord will let you feel His appreciation for choosing to step away from the possibility of sowing seeds of disunity.

While President Eyring was discussing unity in a church unit, I think we can extrapolate to our lives in general. As we remember and apply the old: "If you can't say anything good about a person, don't say anything at all," we'll find that we can more readily live together in unity.

We need not accept things that are wrong, mind you, but we can, and should, be loving, kind, and supportive of things that are right—even if we don't agree fully with some things about the person/group in question. I hope to be more unified in my family, unified among my friends, and perhaps most significantly, unified in righteousness with those whom I don't fully agree on some points.

It may be hard. It will be worth it.

To Learn, to Do, to Be

This entry is part of my general conference application series.
Priesthood Session

To Learn, to Do, to Be, by President Thomas S. Monson


I did something unprecedented on the commute home today—I rode unplugged (no iPod). It was time to have some alone time with myself. About half-way home, I realized that my thoughts had been simply wandering without any conscious or seriously directed effort; I thought it would be interesting to reflect on what I had been thinking. I recalled the question, "What do you do when you don't have to do anything?" and wondered: What do I think about when I'm not thinking about anything? I liked the results of my question, and, surprisingly, they apply to President Monson's talk.

Perhaps it was just because I usually listen to them while riding, but I realized that I had been reflecting on the general conference talks I've written about. I was thinking about what I've learned, what I need to change, and who I want to become, particularly as a father. (Did you catch the title of this talk in my questions?)

Now that I was aware of my thought process, I took it up a notch. It may sound strange, but I started doing mental practices of how I could greet my family when I arrived home. You read it right: I was practicing what I would say, the expression on my face, my body language, everything. I figured that having been away all day, my family deserved to get the best me I could give. And that takes practice.

Let me try to force a relationship to President Monson's words. Along with other things, he counseled us "to be prudent in [our] planning." The next paragraph begins with:

Let us make our homes sanctuaries of righteousness, places of prayer, and abodes of love that we might merit the blessings that can come only from our Heavenly Father. We need His guidance in our daily lives.

With the wonderful blessings promised, I need as much practice as I can get! Nevertheless, I know that I can't do it alone. In addition to my children who actually remind me to be nice when I slip and my dear wife who is both a great example and loving coach, I have my eternal Father who is quite concerned about my future as well as my little family. President Monson counseled:

I would urge all of us to pray concerning our assignments and to seek divine help, that we might be successful in accomplishing that which we are called to do. ... No such sincere, prayerful effort will go unanswered: that is the very constitution of the philosophy of faith. Divine favor will attend those who humbly seek it.

If I can count fatherhood (and husbandhood) as an assignment, and I think I can—the Proclamation to the World on Family states, "husband and wife have a solemn responsibility to love and care for each other and for their children" (link)—then this is applicable to my goals of being a loving husband and father.

I continue to learn; I strive to do; I want to be like Christ.

O Ye That Embark

This entry is part of my general conference application series.
Priesthood Session

O Ye That Embark, by President Henry B. Eyring
First Counselor in the First Presidency


We are familiar with what it means to live paycheck to paycheck. As a student, I have some experience with this, but even more so, I catch myself living project to project, paper to paper, or exam to exam.

What does this mean? I start out thinking "I'll devote my time to this task for now, and after I'm done, then I can relax," only to find another task waiting just over the horizon. The end result of this mentality is that I continue to put off recreation or family activities thinking that I'll have time for them later, only to find that they've slip away. This reminds of President Monson's oft-quoted line from The Music Man, "You pile up enough tomorrows, and you’ll find you’ve collected a lot of empty yesterdays."

As a new graduate student, my advisor said something in passing that changed my life. He was reminiscing on his student days, describing a lifestyle similar to above, when he said that he decided to change—to actually enjoy his family and take time away from tasks (occasionally). Following this pattern, I decided that there is more to life than classes, research, and grades. It turns out that there is a lot more!

I was reminded of all of this when President Eyring discussed men at various stages believing that priesthood service would become easier when they were older. Apparently this is not the case, as President Eyring reminded, "the more faithful service you give, the more the Lord asks of you." Not wanting us to be discouraged, he assured, though, that "[Christ] increases our power to carry the heavier load." But there is a catch:

The tough part of that reality, however, is that for Him to give you that increased power you must go in service and faith to your outer limits.

I'm reminded of President Packers address, The Candle of the Lord, where he taught:

Somewhere in your quest for spiritual knowledge, there is that “leap of faith,” as the philosophers call it. It is the moment when you have gone to the edge of the light and stepped into the darkness to discover that the way is lighted ahead for just a footstep or two.

The truth that we are given increased strength is found in the scriptures, in the story of Alma under the dominion of Amulon (see Mosiah 24:14). We are not surprised that there is a price; we must qualify for the blessing, as have countless before us.

I hope that I can have the courage to "go in service and faith to [my] outer limits." I'm sure that as I do, I will find the increased power to carry heavy loads, as President Eyring taught. In addition, President Packer's words remind, "As you give that which you have, there is a replacement, with increase!"

Preceding—and along with—this growth, we may feel overwhelmed. President Eyring givesthe solution: "When those feelings of inadequacy strike us, it is the time to remember the Savior. He assures us that we don’t do this work alone."

While much is required of us, much is likewise given (recall D&C 82:3).

Lift Where You Stand

This entry is part of my general conference application series.
Priesthood Session

Lift Where You Stand, by Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf
Second Counselor in the First Presidency

Here are known and little-known facts about me: All of my degrees end in the letter "S." When we watch a film together and Maryann asks me what I want to watch, I often suggest one of our many Jane Austen-type films—Pride and Prejudice; Sense and Sensibility; Persuasion, etc.

What's the point? Despite being an engineer with training in the sciences (not the arts, mind you), I serve on a cultural arts committee. I mentioned my film choices to suggest that despite being an engineer (and a male), I enjoy perhaps non-intuitive entertainment.

President Uchtdorf gave instruction that seemed to resonate well with me when I first heard it (I marked it with a star when I took notes while watching the talk live), and seemed even more applicable upon review now. He observed:

You may feel that there are others who are more capable or more experienced who could fulfill your callings and assignments better than you can, but the Lord gave you your responsibilities for a reason. There may be people and hearts only you can reach and touch. Perhaps no one else could do it in quite the same way.

Isn't that exciting? When I catch myself thinking that there are many others who could do my job better than I can, I hope to remember that regardless of the accuracy of that thought, I was chosen for a reason. I know that I've been blessed by serving in similar situations many times before, and the benefit of hindsight confirms it. I want to serve, lift, love, and bless, even when it seems that what I do is so small compared to others' service.

President Uchtdorf shared the account of John Rowe Moyle (grandfather of Henry D. Moyle), who helped build the temple. Interest was added when we learn how he would walk six hours each direction to serve every week. The story is made especially interesting by the account of how he continued to make the journey after his leg was amputated and he carved his own wooden leg. After completely drawing you in with this narrative, President Uchtdorf sealed the message by revealing: "His hands carved the words 'Holiness to the Lord' that stand today as a golden marker to all who visit the Salt Lake Temple."

This picture is of the same phrase at the San Diego Temple. The significance of the statement was impressive to me when I visited there last year (so I took the picture). I hope I never forget this story of faithful service. I hope I never forget how unknown it was to me. I hope I never forget what President Uchtdorf reminded: that service, even not-readily-known service, "is just as pleasing to the Lord."

I want to remember to faithfully life where I stand.