Testimonies

A good friend who is also a member of the LDS Church was visiting me recently, and her visit happened to fall on what members of the Church commonly refer to as fast Sunday. On the first Sunday of each month we are encouraged to fast—to forgo food and drink for approximately twenty-four hours and donate the money we would normally have spent on food to those in need. We are also encouraged to use this period of fasting to strengthen our church community, petition God for those we love, and draw closer to Him. As my friend and I approached the end of our fast, a tender, bright contentment and stillness settled in my soul. My friend, acknowledging a similar feeling, said, “I’m so grateful to have been taught to fast. I never would have thought this up on my own.”

I too would never have thought up fasting on my own. In fact I fasted many times before I saw any spiritual benefit in the practice, and I can still go through the motions of fasting without feeling much of anything except hungry. But increasingly I notice that sincere fasting and prayer brings a particular peace into my life that seems to come in no other way. I feel more fully myself, more grounded in my relationship with God, more sensitive to spiritual impressions, more genuine in my relationships with others when I fast.

Like exercise (something else I never would have thought up on my own), fasting can be difficult for me and doesn’t necessarily yield immediate results or satisfaction. I think of another acquaintance, a spiritual woman who heard of the LDS practice of fasting and decided to try it. Her assessment was, “I’ll never do that again! That was ridiculously hard, and all I got out of it was cranky and hungry.” Fasting is definitely an acquired taste, and it helps to have social support, an expectation from an early age that one can succeed, and testimonials of the spiritual benefits that can come from fasting to help a person persist in this practice long enough to contact the finely-tuned spiritual experiences that can come once the hurdles of physical discomfort are cleared. It is still challenging for me to fast in such a way as to allow these experiences to surface, but I am grateful to have been taught to fast.

People from many faith traditions fast and pray; these are hardly unique ideas. But they are one part of a broad lifestyle of spiritual commitment that has led me to feel, recognize, and value the Spirit of God. The teachings of the LDS Church awakened me to the possibility that a fallible, ordinary woman can come to know God, and have shown me a path to get there. That path includes many elements that, like fasting, I never would have thought up on my own. In fact, some of those elements have been not only unlikely but at first troubling. I have had to remind myself that Jesus’s teachings were also troubling at times, even to those who knew Him best. But I have been on the path long enough now to say with confidence that it has led me to the One I have sought.

Like many people who have longed for a close and loving relationship with God and more regular access to spiritual impressions and direction, I used to wonder why God seemed so distant when I wanted so much to be close to Him. In recent years I have increasingly realized that I have been the one who has kept Him far away, not so much by my disobedience as by my restlessness, my distractibility, my impatience, my blindness, and, especially, my fear. Intimacy is hard enough to tolerate in human relationships, where closeness reminds us of just how vulnerable we are, how often we have been disappointed and hurt, how much we have to lose. God, for me at least, has been even harder to let in than people. The LDS Church teaches without apology that God can be found, that He wants to be found, and that ordinary people can reach Him. Fasting, praying, studying scriptural texts, paying tithes and offerings, ordering one’s life and relationships, serving other people in systematic ways, and a host of other aspects of what it means to try to live as a disciple of Christ, a saint – these are the spiritual disciplines that have helped me gain the spiritual muscle I needed in order to tolerate God’s closeness.

In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints I have found much that has challenged my scientific and scholarly training, my common sense, my somewhat liberal inclinations, and my personal comfort. I have experienced periods of doubt, dissatisfaction, disillusionment, and disapproval. Still, I have come to love the Church. I love the comprehensiveness of its doctrine, the scope of its charitable service, and the goodness of so many of its people. But I especially love the hope that it holds out to me that sincere people who are willing to submit to the Lord’s tutoring can receive the Holy Ghost and be changed and sanctified by His influence. I have felt that influence teach me, change me, lead me to understand and receive the atonement of Jesus Christ, and prepare me to seek and endure the consuming fire of God’s love. I believe there are many paths that sincere people may follow to increase their spirituality and faith. My experience has been with this path, and it has led me to God. Because I believe Jesus Christ’s teaching that He is the way, the truth, and the life, and that no one comes to the Father but by Christ, I trust this path to be of Him.

————————————————–

Wendy Ulrich holds a Ph.D. in psychology and education from the University of Michigan and an M.B.A. from the University of California, Los Angeles. She has been a practicing psychologist for over twenty years, and is a former president of the Association of Mormon Counselors and Psychotherapists. She is the founder of Sixteen Stones Center for Growth (sixteenstones.net), a group of mental health professionals committed to enhancing the spiritual and emotional resilience of LDS women and their loved ones. She is author of Forgiving Ourselves: Getting Back Up When We Let Ourselves Down (2008, Deseret Book); Weakness is Not Sin: The Liberating Distinction that Awakens our Strengths (2009, Deseret Book); and, with her husband Dave Ulrich, The Why of Work: How Great Leaders Build Abundant Organizations that Deliver Value (2010, McGraw Hill; thewhyofwork.com). They have three children.

Posted April 2010

The following message for the Easter weekend (and, simultaneously, for the weekend of the annual general conference of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) was sent to all members of the Brigham Young University faculty on the evening of Friday, 2 April 2010. We reproduce it here with the kind permission of Professor Tanner.

Treasure in Earthen Vessels

A couple weeks ago I was invited to sustain a new bishop—a long-time neighbor and home teacher. Tomorrow we will be privileged to sustain the General Authorities of the Church. When I engage in this time-honored practice of sustaining Church officers, whether a bishop or the Brethren, I often recall a scripture from Second Corinthians: “But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us” (4:7).

“Treasures in earthen vessels.” This image acknowledges what the Lord’s servants have always acknowledged: namely, that they are mortals like the rest of us, with normal human flaws and limitations. As King Benjamin said to his people when he gathered them for the equivalent of an ancient general conference: “I have not commanded you to come up hither . . . that you should think that I am of myself more than a mortal man. But I am like as yourselves, subject to all manner of infirmities in body and mind” (Mosiah 2: 10-11).

We do not worship or idolize our leaders. We sustain them, which means “hold up.” We are instructed to uphold them with our “confidence, faith, and prayer” (D&C 107:22), “in their weakness” (D&C 1:24). I sometimes think of Joshua holding up Moses’ arms during the battle as I raise my arm to the square.

At the same time, these earthen vessels are the oracles of God for us. The Lord proclaims his gospel by “the weak and the simple” (D&C 1:23). He entrusts this treasure to earthen vessels “that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.”

This principle of earthen vessels reminds me of a story from the life of Karl G. Maeser recounted many years ago at BYU by President Packer. As one who likes to hike, I have often recounted this story to my family when we have made our way across a mountain track, guided only by cairns.

On one occasion he [Karl G. Maeser] was leading a party of young missionaries across the Alps. As they slowly ascended the steep slope, he looked back and saw a row of sticks thrust into the glacial snow to mark the one safe path across the otherwise treacherous mountains.

Something about those sticks impressed him, and halting the company of missionaries he gestured toward them and said, “Brethren, there stands the priesthood. They are just common sticks like the rest of us—some of them may even seem to be a little crooked, but the position they hold makes them what they are. If we step aside from the path they mark, we are lost.” (“Follow the Brethren” Boyd K. Packer, BYU, March 23, 1965)

The Brethren are not the only earthen vessels through whom we receive the treasures of heaven. This Easter weekend we remember the treasure we have received from one who chose to “dwell in a tabernacle of clay,” that he might “suffer temptations, and pain of body, hunger, thirst, and fatigue, even more than man can suffer, except it be unto death” (Mosiah 3:5,7). Many in Jesus’ own day dismissed him as a mere man. After all, they knew his brothers and sisters. They knew his carpenter father and his inconsequential hometown of Nazareth. He was easy to dismiss. For as Isaiah predicted, Jesus “hath no form nor comeliness . . . there is no beauty that we should desire him.” Hence he was “despised and rejected of men” (Is. 53:2-3).

Yet through this lowly, humble, earthen vessel, the world received an inestimable treasure. How blessed we are that the Savior condescended to take “upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men. And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross” (Phil 2:7-8). This weekend, I am grateful to sustain, and be sustained by, the many treasures God has given us in earthen vessels.

————————————————

John S. Tanner has served as Academic Vice President of Brigham Young University since June 1, 2004. Prior to this, he served as Associate Academic Vice President in two previous BYU administrations, as well as chair of the English Department, the largest department on campus. In these assignments he has drafted foundational documents and policies for the university, such as “The Aims of a BYU Education” and the “Statement on Academic Freedom at BYU.” He has also led the university in a number of initiatives. These have resulted in significant improvements in teaching, learning, and scholarship at BYU while containing costs.

Professor Tanner received a BA in English from Brigham Young University in 1974 (magna cum laude and Highest Honors), and a Ph.D. from the University of California at Berkeley in 1980. He was an assistant professor at The Florida State University before coming to BYU, where he holds the rank of Professor of English. He has also been a Senior Fulbright Lecturer in Brazil.

Professor Tanner’s first professional love is teaching. He is the recipient of several teaching awards, along with other academic honors. He has taught undergraduate and graduate courses in literature, composition, religion, and the history of civilization.

As a scholar, Dr. Tanner specializes in Early Modern English literature, with an emphasis on religious writers of the period, particularly John Milton. His book Anxiety in Eden (Oxford University Press) was named best work of the year by the Milton Society of America in 1992. Dr. Tanner has also published numerous scholarly articles on religion and literature. His literary scholarship ranges from theological reflections on the problem of evil in the Book of Job to philosophical analyses of freedom in the works of Kierkegaard and of C. S. Lewis. In addition, Dr. Tanner has published scholarly articles on LDS topics and has edited an academic journal in Medieval and Renaissance Studies.

Dr. Tanner is also the author of many personal essays on educational and devotional topics. In addition, he has published poetry, including hymn texts. One of his hymns appears in the LDS hymnal. More recently, he has been involved in several media productions, both radio and film.

John Tanner was raised in Southern California, one of a large and happy family of thirteen children. He served an LDS mission to Brazil and subsequently has served in many church callings. He is married to Susan Winder Tanner, the former Young Women General President for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They are the parents of five children and grandparents of twelve.

Posted April 2010

The Book of Mormon

In May 1983, I first read the Book of Mormon with any seriousness. As I did so, it struck me for the first time just how radical this book and its claims were. It came to me with great force how incredible this whole tale of Joseph Smith’s was, and how we Mormons were the only people who believed all this stuff: angels, gold plates, Christ in America.

This lightning bolt rather quickly led me to the realization that I had gone along with the idea because my parents had taught it to me, but why would anyone else? I knew people talked about prayer for this sort of thing, but wondered if you might just “want it” to be true to the point that you could “create” your own answer.

I didn’t talk about this with anyone; I didn’t explain it to my parents or anything—partly, I think, because I had the sense that I didn’t want to be biased by their reply. It was a lonely moment.

After spinning the matter in my mind, I concluded that such a momentous question (for so it suddenly seemed) would probably take many weeks of struggling and prayers to settle, at best. I knew it entirely possible that I wouldn’t get an answer, and wondered what I would do if I didn’t. And, even if I was answered, would I recognize it? And, would my worries about the implications of not getting an answer lead me to manufacture a reply?

I had, I think, decided that if this went on for a while with no reply, I’d tell my parents that I didn’t know. I pictured them as a bit sad, but not angry. And, I decided I could live with that.

So, I got down on my knees—I asked God to forgive me my sins. I explained to Him that I’d just read part of the Book of Mormon, and that I didn’t know if it was true or not. I asked Him to tell me.

I was completely unprepared for the experience that followed. I was filled with a joy, a warmth, a love, and a sensation of such overwhelming mental clarity that it left me tired and weak afterwards. I could barely stand. I wrote a brief account in my journal, and noted that I had to keep stopping for a break because I didn’t have the strength to write.

In the moment of revelation, any doubts I had were gone—I literally couldn’t entertain them, and I tried. I might as well have been trying to convince myself I wasn’t thinking. I was filled with insight, as if mental connections and understanding were being made almost too rapidly to process them.

I then asked if Joseph had been a true prophet, and the experience returned. I felt as if I was back home, after a long absence, and that I had found something that I hadn’t known was missing until that moment. I had never experienced anything remotely like this, and so knew I hadn’t created it. If I couldn’t even conceive of it, how could I fabricate it? Besides, I was too surprised.

Well, I didn’t tell anyone about that experience for some time. But everything was transformed for me, and I could never look at the Book of Mormon or Joseph Smith the same way again. God knew what I needed to persuade me, and I got it.

No question or discovery has ever felt terribly threatening for long, because I learned that God was real and that Jesus was the divine savior.

Other books

I hope the reader will forgive me a brief digression, as I treat this website like a Twelve-Step Program. In that vein, I would like to say: My name is Greg, and I’m a biblioholic—a book addict.

It’s true. I would rather read than do just about anything—I’d rather read than sleep or even eat, and I have on occasion. Some people climb mountains—my brain is always saying, “Yes, that’s very pretty. But, you know, you could be home reading.”

Thus it was that several years after praying about the Book of Mormon, I discovered an old copy of Hugh Nibley’s An Approach to the Book of Mormon. I was enthralled—not because I thought it proved the Book of Mormon (doing so didn’t interest me; I already knew it was true), but because it lifted the text out of the never-never land in which I pictured it, and made it concrete and real—I saw it as a foreign time and land, which Nibley’s education made it possible to appreciate.

I became convinced that secular learning was an aid to the religious life. One thing that appeals enormously to me is the LDS concept that all truth is part of a grand whole that is internally self-consistent (even if we don’t always see how or why yet). Truth and learning is never a threat, save if our arrogance makes it so.

Science and religion

While easy to say, this wasn’t always an easy lesson to learn. I was once essentially called to repentance by a church teacher. She insisted that dinosaurs and humans lived together—my reaction was less diplomatic than it ought to have been. I can only plead that I was too surprised at hearing this to do anything but blurt out my disbelief in front of the whole class. I’d never heard such a thing before.

That evening, my parents took a remarkably “hands off” approach to the question and simply pointed me to the different schools of thought within the Church on the matter. The experience worried me initially—I was already deeply drawn to biological science, and though I didn’t know anything about evolution, I was pretty sure that humans tromping around with dinosaurs was not something that most scientists believed. But, I had no desire to study something that was somehow dangerous to faith or right belief—and, my teacher had pretty clearly communicated to me that this was the case.

Prayer reassured me again. I’d hoped for a clear answer and reconciliation—but didn’t get it. I did get, however, the assurance that studying such things was a worthy and worth-while pursuit. I didn’t need to accept what I had been told if it didn’t gel for me. And, interestingly, I learned that it was none of my business to make converts in church to whatever conclusions I came to.

It is vitally important that our learning or intellectual life not alienate us from others—or alienate others from us. But, at the same time it was humbling and thrilling for God to trust me enough to work the problem. He seemed less worried about what I concluded than how I went about it, and what I did with whatever I came up with.

So, I learned there is to be some intellectual work in the world. We need not—and, when the chips are down cannot—rely on other members or teachers to read the scriptures for us or parse doctrine. Even leaders, I was surprised to learn, do not see every detail in the same way. But, God seems to prefer it that way—the riot of a tropical rainforest, as opposed to the rigidity of a putting green. We’re to develop some independent ability—coupled with a healthy dose of humility.

My university studies reinforced these lessons, as interest and student poverty drove me to work summers as a research assistant. One summer was dedicated to intra-cellular physiology, while another focused on human, physical, and social factors contributing to injury. Medical education taught me skepticism of my own and others’ conclusions—even with the best of intentions, we could deceive ourselves or our patients. And, sometimes the issues we desperately wanted answers to in medicine were ones ill-suited to be answered definitively. Yet, such uncertainty must not paralyze us into radical skepticism about all our efforts to help the sick. We had to act without knowing everything, while remaining aware of what we did know (and how well, and why) to recognize when something better came along.

(I did not realize it then, but these were lessons that would stand me in good stead when I turned my attention to Church history, though the Lord had to point it out to me. I have discussed this elsewhere. I remain amazed at how confident or dogmatic some historians become when working with data much less amenable to the scientific method than the issues that bedevil the physical sciences and medicine.)

Mere Christianity

I had grown up on C.S. Lewis’ Narnia books, and so one day my book addiction led me to pick up Lewis’ Mere Christianity. Unlike some, I was not particularly moved by his arguments for the existence of God, or a universal moral law—those weren’t doubts or concerns I had.

But, Lewis altered how I looked at discipleship. Even now, he still appeals to me more than most Christian apologists because of his intense self-awareness of his own fallibility and weakness, and the necessity to actively engage in the process of on-going sanctification. Reading Mere Christianity was a deeply spiritual experience in which I was taught a number of things that continue to influence how I look at—and try to live—the gospel. And, doing so took me back to the Book of Mormon, where I learned about mercy and grace and the transforming power of Christian discipleship in a way I hadn’t before.

I’ve read Lewis’ book twice since. The second time was after my mission, and the third was a few years ago. In both cases, I enjoyed rereading it—but, it didn’t seem to have more to teach me. It had taught me what it could (which was, and continues to be, very valuable), but the spiritual power and transformation of the first reading was not repeated. (Granted, this may say more about me than Lewis.)

I first read the Book of Mormon with any seriousness more than two decades ago. I’ve continued to read it ever since—I’ve lost count, but I’m sure I’ve read it cover-to-cover at least once a year for more than a quarter century, and many sections much more often. Remember, I’m an addict—I can’t help myself. I need help.

As for the Book of Mormon, the truly amazing thing to me is that more than twenty-five years later, it’s still doing the same thing. Lewis was educated in the great universities of the world. He read and spoke multiple languages. He was a subtle thinker and gifted communicator. And, yet, his book seems to have done all it can for me after only a reading or two.

By contrast, this Book of Mormon, produced by a backwoods farm boy with three years of formal education, dictated over a period of about two months—one continuous run-on sentence, no punctuation, grammatical errors and all—continues to enlighten and transform my life.

If it wasn’t helping me, I’d have quit reading it. There’s too much to read—and I love reading too much—to read things that I don’t get anything out of. Life’s too short, and no one knows that better than a book-addict in a library.

Any book that could get me to read it that many times, that often, and still benefit would have to be something special—an astonishing production, a work of staggering genius even if there were no divine claims with it at all. No other book has ever done that, save the gospels and parables of Jesus.

I may not know much—but I do know books.

I occasionally hear critics dismiss the Book of Mormon as trivial, or not terribly complex or impressive—well, there are people who don’t see what the fuss about Bach or Shakespeare is either. Such dismissiveness says far more about the critic than it does the work being dismissed.

Almost every significant spiritual experience in my life has been tied closely to the Book of Mormon—it has an uncanny ability to serve as a catalyst or driving force to insight and transformation. You run into Jesus on every page, and there’s no remaking this Jesus—you can’t water Him down, or run away, or assume He was just a clever Jewish peasant.

No, in the Book of Mormon you must confront Him as Jehovah, as the Bright and Morning Star, the Hope of Israel. And, I’ve seen revelation change me and change others.

Not bad for a nineteenth century New York farm boy. He’s done what no other writer has managed: for me, anyway. And, he keeps on doing it.

God be thanked for the Book of Mormon—that book of books. And, for all the other books too, which when read through the lens of the restored gospel also bring us closer to Home, and fill us with the joy of things forgotten.

—————————————————–

Gregory Smith studied research physiology and English at the University of Alberta, but escaped into medical school before earning his bachelor’s degree. After receiving his MD, he completed his residency in family medicine at St. Mary’s Hospital in Montréal, Québec. There he learned the medical vocabulary and French Canadian slang that he didn’t pick up in the France Paris Mission, and won the Mervyn James Robson Award for Excellence in Internal Medicine.

He now practices rural family medicine in Alberta, with interests in internal medicine and psychiatry. A clinical preceptor for residents and medical students, he has been repeatedly honored for excellence in clinical teaching.

With a research interest in LDS plural marriage, he has spoken to the Miller-Eccles study group, the 2009 FAIR conference, and been published in the FARMS Review on this and other topics. He and two co-authors are at work on a book chapter which examines nineteenth-century marriage ages. His science background has also led him to write about DNA and the Book of Mormon.

With twelve years of classical piano training, he is a life-long audiophile and owns far too many MP3 files. He lives happily with his one indulgent wife, three extraordinary children, and four cats.

Posted April 2010

How does the thirteenth child of a Chinese Buddhist mother and an Evangelical Southern Baptist father become a believing Mormon? The correct answer is “By the Grace of God.”

Memories of my childhood typically evoke visions of tobacco rows and cotton fields and working among many, many African Americans, being mesmerized by Negro spirituals and vacation Bible schools and the smells of honeysuckle and magnolia trees amidst poverty beyond imagination, beyond even the imagination of my contemporaries.

Education had no particular value in my family—most of my siblings barely made it through elementary school. There were no high school graduates. My father had no formal education, could barely write his name, and my mother was educated mostly in China. I was somehow different from my siblings, not particularly reverent in my attitudes, prone to trouble-making and rabble-rousing. When the new pastor made a call to our home, my father would humorously (I hope that it was humorous) indicate that he had twelve children and me!

I read a lot—mostly from books that I made up. I would cut words from Sears and Roebuck catalogues and make my own books. While my family slept, I would sit in a closet with my head covered with a bed sheet and, by the light of a flashlight, read until I fell asleep. I discovered the small local library when I was about six or seven years old. I would walk three miles nearly every Saturday morning and haul a load of books (and discarded newspapers and magazines, given to me by Mrs. Taylor, the librarian) home, and would rather read than eat. Books fueled my imagination, and let me travel to distant countries while being my own tour guide.

I learned to read very early—around three—but there were only a very limited number of books in our home: a Bible and a Webster’s Dictionary, both of which I claimed. My mother was a very reverent, respectful, but sad woman (sadness is a much sought-after Buddhist characteristic—it helps one to deal with the many losses in life), but was a good mother. My father, a religious man, always knelt for his personal prayer before retiring each night, and there was always grace at mealtime.

More often than not I would hear him say in times of tremendous difficulty that “God is good.” The statement was somewhat incomprehensible to me because it was made in bad times as well as good times.

Grace was introduced so early in my life that I thought Grace was an actual person—Grace made all the difference. We are saved by Grace. The Lord’s Grace will take us the last mile of the way. Let’s say Grace before we eat. Let Grace light your way. There were so many Graces in my life that, by the time I was in elementary school, I was always asking questions about Grace.

The Gospel entered my life as one of the many “kiddie baptisms.” I fully embraced the Gospel as a teenager because it offered hope—not just hope for a better life away from this small town in South Carolina and away from poverty but for the promise of a Gospel-centered life of meaning, of service and contribution.

I graduated thirteenth in my high school graduating class, which numbered just over a hundred. And, by the Grace of God and the help of a local minister, I enrolled in a little Methodist college in South Carolina. The college was a work/study school.

The first year I worked forty hours a week as a mechanic and took a full course load. I loved books, so English was a natural major—until a wonderful not-so-wonderful professor, Dr. Cecile Taylor (interestingly enough, she had the same last name as the town librarian who supplied me with books and old magazines and newspapers) entered my life and told me that I was good but not “damn good,” that I should find a profession where I could make a living, and that, if writing was really my “gift,” I could do it later. So, back to the drawing board: English (too late, I already had most of the degree done), math, psychology and French—this last option was more for entertainment and for hope that, someday, I would at least visit Paris (and I wanted to be prepared).

From the little Methodist college, I moved to BYU (by this time I had spiritually matured a bit), then to Virginia Commonwealth University and the Medical College of Virginia, Loyola University, and the University of Utah (I seemed to be killing myself by degrees). After being trained and licensed as a psychologist, I practiced for nearly thirty years, managed academic appointments, and did a bit of publishing.

I am most often asked how I managed to survive the anti-religious bent so characteristic of the mental health professions, and my usual response is: C.S. Lewis. I am confident that I could not have survived graduate school without him. In fact, some weeks after reading Sigmund Freud and Albert Ellis, I felt that a disbelief in God was a prerequisite for admission to the profession. But somehow, C.S. Lewis provided relief, perspective, and belief. The experience of Gospel truths was more sustaining for me than food. And in a profession where change is much sought after, I experienced changes in me as I observed the epiphanies in others. On more occasions than not, changes in a patient’s countenance preceded a change in a patient’s heart. How soon I learned that willpower was simply not enough (I actually authored a book by that title), and that for many people lasting change came by acknowledging that there was a force outside oneself that was able to resolve, lift, and bring peace to troubled souls. How quickly I learned that my skills could facilitate, could direct, but that only God had the power to heal. I watched that healing come through the psychology of gratitude, the psychology of forgiveness, and the psychology of sacrifice or service. And how quickly I learned that the Gospel of Jesus Christ embraces all truth, whether it comes from the scientific laboratory or the revealed Word of God.

Though I spent my earlier years treating a variety of individuals, men who struggled with gender issues were assigned to me because my colleagues preferred not to provide care for them. Later, I treated these men because I wanted to. For nearly four decades, I watched these men with gender issues make profound changes in their lives as they discovered their spiritual identities.

While maintaining my interest in the mental health profession, I felt directed toward pediatrics and children and was offered the position as the President/CEO of Thrasher Research Fund, an organization that provides grants to premier researchers all over the world to cure diseases and improve the lives of children. For more than ten years, I have traveled to many countries to observe how research supported by the Thrasher Research Fund has blessed the lives of children and their families. From the countries in Africa to those in Central and South America, to India, China, Australia, and New Zealand, and to the Islamic Republic of Iran and the United Arab Emirates, I’ve watched the faces of the children and am so often reminded of my father’s words “God is good.”

I see His Hand in the goodness throughout the world. More importantly, I see His Hand in my own life. I know that He lives. I see his goodness in my life and in the lives of those around me. I take solace, even in difficult times, to know that He is in control of all of this. Perhaps I could end this testimony of sorts with sharing with those who might come across this personal statement some of the truths that I have discovered. They include the following:

• There is no struggle for which the Atonement is not sufficient.
• We cannot sink lower than the arms of the Atonement can reach.
• God loves us just the way we are; however, He does not leave us that way. He wants us to become like His Son and He has prepared a way for us to do so.
• When storms arise in our lives, we often ask the Master to reach out His Hand to calm the trouble waters, and, sometimes, He does. Other times, He allows the storms to rage and He reaches out His Hand and calms us. Either way, we can come to know and feel His love.

And finally, His Grace will light our way—and we are more apt to follow that light if we strive to have His image in our countenance.

———————————————————

A. Dean Byrd, PhD, MBA, MPH, is the President and CEO of Thrasher Research Fund and is a member of the University of Utah School of Medicine Faculty, with appointments in the Department of Family and Preventive Medicine and in the Department of Psychiatry. In addition, he is Adjunct Professor, Department of Family Studies, also at the University of Utah. He was trained at Spartanburg Methodist College, Brigham Young University, Virginia Commonwealth University and Medical College of Virginia, Loyola University, and the University of Utah. He has lectured in many countries throughout the world, including in Israel (Bar Ilan University, Hebrew University, and University of Tel Aviv), Poland (University of Krakow School of Medicine), Democratic Republic of the Congo (University of Kinshasa School of Medicine) and the Ivory Coast (Ivory Coast School of Public Health). He has authored six books and more than two hundred peer-reviewed journal articles, book chapters, book reviews, and opinion editorials on family-related topics. He is married to Dr. Elaine Byrd, Professor of Elementary Education at Utah Valley University. They are the parents of five children.

Posted March 2010

This collection of quotations from Hugh Nibley was supervised and approved by his widow, Phyllis Nibley. We are pleased to post it in commemoration of the centennial of his birth.

On the Temple
The essential information for solving almost any problem or answering almost any question is all brought together in the scriptures, but it is not put together for us there. Learned divines for sixty generations have argued about that, and the vast bulk of their writings is eloquent witness to their perplexity. And this is where the temple comes in. Without the temple any civilization is an empty shell, a structure of custom and convenience only. The churchmen, posing with too much dexterity to accommodate their teachings to the scientific and moral tenets of the hour, present a woeful commentary on the claims of religion to be the sheet anchor of civilization and morality. Where is the unshakable rock, the ʾeven shetiyah? It is the temple.

Five days a week between three and four o’clock in the morning, hundreds of elderly people along the Wasatch Front bestir themselves to go up and begin their long hours of work in the temple, where they are ready to greet the first comers at 5:30 A.M. At that time, long before daylight, the place is packed; you can’t get in, so I virtuously wait until later, much later, in the day. Whatever they may be up to, here is a band of mortals who are actually engaged in doing something which has not their own comfort, convenience, or profit as its object. Here at last is a phenomenon that commands respect in our day and could safely be put forth among the few valid arguments we have to induce the Deity to spare the human race: thousands of men and women putting themselves out for no ulterior motive. There is a touch of true nobility here. What draws them to the temple? There is no music, pageantry, or socializing to beguile the time; none of us begins to grasp the full significance of what is going on, yet nobody seems bored. Why is that? I can only speak for myself, harking back to the subject of hints, those countless impulses with which our receptors are being bombarded by day and night. For thousands of years the stars have gone on sending us their hints, broadcasting unlimited information if we only knew it; now at last we are reacting to a narrow band of the informational spectrum, putting clues together in a way the ancients never did. But also we are beginning to suspect that there were times when the ancients reacted to another band of the spectrum which is completely lost on us. The temple, as the very name proclaims, is a place where one takes one’s bearings on the universe. What goes on there is confidential and must remain so until both the Mormons and the outside world are in a better position to understand it. Meanwhile, I write this almost fifty years to the day since the bewildering experience of my own endowment; I have just returned from the temple again where this day I made a most surprising and gratifying discovery. If I went to the temple five times and nothing happened, I would stop going. But I’ve gone hundreds of times, and the high hopes of new knowledge with which I go up the hill every week are never disappointed.¹

We live in Vanity Fair today, and the temple represents the one sober spot in the world where we can really be serious and consider these things. It is my testimony that the gospel has been restored, and the Lord intends to fulfill his purposes in these days. And whatever we ask him for, he will give us. This I tell my family without any reservation whatever. I have never asked the Lord for anything that he didn’t give to me. Well, you say, in that case, you surely didn’t ask for much. No, I didn’t; I was very careful not to ask for much. We don’t want to be spoiled brats, do we? We ask for what we need, for what we can’t get ourselves, and the Lord will give it to us. Don’t worry. But he also wants us to get in and dig for the rest. So I pray and hope that the Lord may inspire and help us all to become more engaged—more involved—in the work of these latter days and visit the temple often and become wiser all the time, because he intends to give us more revelations through that instrumentality.²

On the Brethren
I spent a week with Apostle Spencer W. Kimball visiting his home stake in Arizona. We were gone ten days. We went by train in those early days. We came back to the old Los Angeles station, and in that part of Los Angeles, there were a lot of bookstores, which I knew very well. I bought a whole set, a very rare collection, of Alfonsus De Lingorio, the seventeenth-century Redemptorist writer on probabilism, a very valuable set of ten volumes. I barely made it back to the train by running across a lot. I jumped on the train, plunked down beside Brother Kimball, who was already on the train, and staggered into the drawing room, my arms full of the complete set, which I greatly valued.

As we sat talking about the books, Brother Kimball casually took an immaculate linen handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket, and, stooping over, vigorously dusted off my shoes and trousers. It was the most natural thing in the world, and we both took it completely for granted. After all, my shoes were dusty in the race for the train, and Brother Kimball had always told missionaries to keep themselves clean and proper. It was no great thing—pas d’histoire. Neither of us said a thing about it, but ever since, that has conditioned my attitude toward the Brethren. I truly believe that they are chosen servants of God.³

On the Terrible Question (What is after death?)
Joseph Smith had already stated the problem as clearly as anyone ever has and done what no one else has done in giving us the solution. “What is the objet of our coming into existence, then dying and falling away, to be here no more? . . . [This] is a subject we ought to study more than any other. We ought to study it day and night. . . . If we have any claim on our Heavenly Father for anything, it is for knowledge on this important subject.”⁴ And this is where religion has failed, turning to the social gospel and intellectual posturing to avoid the issue.

Joseph Smith not only states the problem, but he provides the prime clue to the answer on the same page: “Could you gaze into heaven five minutes, you would know more than you would by reading all that ever was written on the subject.”⁵ The answer must come from the outside, and that is recognized now. The term breakthrough that Eduard Meyer applied to the beginning of Christianity and Mormonism is today being widely used in theological journals to explain the divine origin of Christianity: It cannot be a human invention, our own imagining; to be real it must come from elsewhere. But of course the phenomenon is denied for modern times.⁶

On Scholarship
The only person you try to impress is your Heavenly Father, and it is awfully hard because he can’t be fooled—not for a minute. I have always felt driven this way. The gospel is so wonderful. There is so much to find out. It opens the doors to so many things. It is sort of an obsession, a sort of personal thing. As long as you are going to be doing something, why not be doing something that hasn’t been done before.⁷

In a discussion on who and what preceded Adam and the various theories related to those ideas: “It is sad to think how many of those telling points that turned some of our best students away from the gospel have turned out to be dead wrong.”⁸

On the Scriptures
I’m getting deeper and deeper into the old study. I’m more and more sure of sources. I’ve been collecting some marvelous stuff on Joseph Smith recently. I could say my testimony gets stronger every day. These scriptures are true; they are real. As the literature expands and associations turn up, you realize that all scholarship is comparative scholarship. There is no end.⁹

“Search the scriptures,” said the Lord, “for in them ye think ye have eternal life: and they are they which testify of me” (John 5:39). The words and deeds of prophets and of angels testify to the divinity of Jesus Christ; so likewise does the written record of those words and deeds. There are many reasons on which we cannot comment here for believing that God gave the miracle of writing to men as a means of keeping records through the ages. Writing is as marvelous and subtle a thing in its operation and in its effects as television. Here we have a means of transmitting not only the deeds but also the very thoughts of men through unlimited expanses of space and time—and this amazingly economical and efficient device has been in the possession of the human race from its very beginning. Writing was not devised by men as a tool to help them in their everyday affairs: successful businessmen have been illiterates, and there is ample evidence that writing was adapted to commercial uses only after such uses were found for it. If you bring together all the written records of man’s past, you will discover that the overwhelming mass of material is religious in nature, and that the primary purpose to which writing has been put through the ages has not been for business records and correspondence, in which writing is employed awkwardly and without enthusiasm, but for keeping a remembrance of God’s dealings with men. The specific purpose of writing, as the Egyptians put it, is to record the mdw ntr, the divine words.

We have skirted the fringe of speculation here for a moment only to recall to a generation that has forgotten to read the scriptures that the written word is one of the means chosen and established by God for communicating with his children. It is not the only means or the most direct means—to insist on that is a common fallacy of the sectarian world. A man who can convey his mind to others only through a written letter must be personally inaccessible to them either because of distance, death, or some other obstacle, and to say that God can speak to men no more clearly or directly than in written pages hundreds of years old is to impose upon him the most pathetic human limitations. Of course God can speak to men now as directly as he ever did, and the scripture is but one of his ways of speaking to them. It is a most effective way, however, and one that has peculiar advantages of its own. It overcomes time—the scriptures are the common meeting ground of all the prophets no matter how many centuries apart they may have lived; here they all speak a common tongue and bear witness to each other. The prophets constantly and characteristically quote each other; the New Testament everywhere quotes the Old; after the resurrection the Lord taught using the very words of Moses and the prophets and employing the scriptures for that purpose. He said that those who did not believe those prophets would never believe him.

As no one has a right to limit God’s capacity to speak to men with his own voice whenever and wherever he will, neither has anyone the authority to say that God may not, when he will, present his children with his word in writing by dictating scripture to his prophets, by bringing forth forgotten writings of the ancients, by guiding the work of an inspired translator, or in any way he chooses. We have said before that the test of the soundness of men’s hearts is their willingness to accept the message of a living prophet; the same applies to their willingness to accept God’s word in any form. So the Lord has told us through an ancient prophet how it is when men who reject the prophets because they already have dead ones are confronted with God’s written word: “Thou fool, that shall say: A Bible, we have got a Bible, and we need no more Bible. Have ye obtained a Bible save it were by the Jews? Know ye not that there are more nations than one? Know ye not that I, the Lord your God, have created all men, and that I remember those who are upon the isles of the sea; and that I rule in the heavens above and in the earth beneath; and I bring forth my word unto the children of men, yea, even upon all the nations of the earth? . . . Wherefore, I speak the same words unto one nation like unto another. And when the two nations shall run together the testimony of the two nations shall run together also. And I do this that I may prove unto many that I am the same yesterday, today, and forever; and that I speak forth my words according to mine own pleasure. And because that I have spoken one word ye need not suppose that I cannot speak another” (2 Nephi 29:6-9).

. . . What do we find in it? A wealth of doctrine embedded in large amounts of what is put forth as genuine historical material, not devotional or speculative or interpretive or creative writing but genuine historical fact, stuff that touches upon reality—geographical, ethnological, linguistic, cultural, etc.—at a thousand places. On all of these points the book could sooner or later be tested, as Joseph Smith knew. We cannot possibly deny his good faith in placing it before the whole world without any reservation. Aside from all other considerations it is a staggering work; its mass and complexity alone would defy the talent of any living man or body of men to duplicate today. Its histories are full and circumstantial; yet sober, simple, straightforward—there is nothing contrived, nothing exaggerated, nothing clever in the whole book. For a century and a quarter it has undergone the closest scrutiny at the hands of its friends and enemies, and today it stands up better than ever.¹⁰

On Science
Until the final returns are in, no one is in a position to make final pronouncements, and as long as science continues to progress, the final returns will remain at the other end of a future of wonders and surprises. In the world of things, we must forever keep an open mind, because we simply don’t know the answers. But we are not claiming that because science does not have the ultimate answers, religion does have them. What we do claim is that the words of the prophets cannot be held to the tentative and defective tests that men have devised for them. Science, philosophy, and common sense all have a right to their day in court. But the last word does not lie with them. Every time men in their wisdom have come forth with the last word, other words have promptly followed. The last word is a testimony of the gospel that comes only by direct revelation. Our Father in heaven speaks it, and if it were in perfect agreement with the science of today, it would surely be out of line with the science of tomorrow. Let us not, therefore, seek to hold God to the learned opinions of the moment when he speaks the language of eternity.¹¹

On Testimony
I have a testimony of the gospel which I wish to bear. Again, as Brigham Young says, because I say it’s true doesn’t make it true, does it? But I know it is, and I would recommend you to pursue a way of finding out. And there are ways in which you can come to a knowledge of the truth.

When is a thing proven? When you personally think it’s so, and that’s all you can do. . . . Then you have your testimony, and all you can do is bear your testimony and point to the evidence. That’s all you can do. But you can’t impose your testimony on another. And you can’t make the other person see the evidence as you do. Things that just thrill me through and through in the Book of Mormon leave another person completely cold. And the other way around, too. So we can’t use evidence, and we can’t say, I know this is true, therefore you’d better know it is true. But I know it is true, and I pray our Heavenly Father that we may all come to a knowledge of the truth, each in his own way.

On the Gospel
I include acceptance of the gospel among the basic bodily functions like sleeping, eating, and breathing. They are not rational but spontaneous; without them we would die, but that is not why we engage in them. We eat, breathe, and sleep long before we are in danger of dying of hunger, suffocation, or exhaustion; if we had to have a rational explanation for doing those things before we were willing to invest any effort in them we would not be long for this world. The eye it cannot choose but see, l’âme pense toujours (but the soul always thinks), and as far as I can see, faith is inseparable from the awareness of existence. Existence, the Egyptians said, is a marvel compared with which all other marvels pale into insignificance: it is something not to be explained but accepted; and to accept it is to feel a surge of gratitude—to what, for what? We cannot shake off the wonder and delight of being, the indefinite prolongation of which is but a minor problem once we have got over the original obstacle—namely, the enormous odds against existing at all. Our reaction to being here must be a religious one, because the only principle of continued being is holiness. One cannot maintain an even level of folly. Each act is a step downward unless it is a righteous act, and the concept of righteousness cannot be divorced from the idea of holiness.

I have written too much and said too little. This is no religious philosophy at all. It is a situation in which I find myself: I am stuck with the gospel. I know perfectly well that it is true; there may be things about the Church that I find perfectly appalling—but that has nothing to do with it. I know the gospel is true.¹²

——
¹ Hugh Nibley, “An Intellectual Autobiography,” in Eloquent Witness: Nibley on Himself, Others and the Temple (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book and FARMS, 2008), 18–19.
² Hugh Nibley, “The Meaning of the Temple,” in Temple and Cosmos: Beyond This Ignorant Present (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book and FARMS, 1992), 38.
³ Hugh Nibley, “Criticizing the Brethren,” in Brother Brigham Challenges the Saints (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book and FARMS, 1994), 444.
⁴ History of the Church 6:50, emphasis added.
⁵ History of the Church 6:50.
⁶ Hugh Nibley, “Not to Worry,” in Eloquent Witness, 193–94.
⁷ “Hugh Nibley: The Faithful Scholar,” in Eloquent Witness, 25–26.
⁸ Hugh Nibley, “Before Adam,” in Old Testament and Related Studies (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book and FARMS, 1986), 57.
⁹ Hugh Nibley, “A Conversation with Hugh Nibley,” in Eloquent Witness, 90.
¹⁰ Hugh Nibley, “The Book of Mormon as a Witness,” in The World and the Prophets (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book and FARMS, 1987), 207–9, 211.
¹¹ Hugh Nibley, “The Prophets and the Open Mind,” in The World and the Prophets (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book and FARMS, 1987), 134.
¹² Hugh Nibley, “Dear Sterling,” in Eloquent Witness, 146–47.

——————————————————

Hugh Winder Nibley (27 March 1910–24 February 2005) was a gifted writer, a prolific author, a first-class scholar, and, above all, a committed member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He was educated at UCLA and the University of California, Berkeley. He taught at the Claremont Colleges before World War II, at which time he served in military intelligence. He was then employed at Brigham Young University, where he influenced countless individuals through his classes, his writing, and his lectures. Professor Nibley was a gifted linguist (e.g., in Arabic, Coptic, Dutch, Egyptian, French, German, Greek, Hebrew, Italian, Latin, Old Norse, Russian, and other languages) and used those skills to contribute in numerous fields, including classics, ancient history, Mormon history, patristics, Book of Mormon studies, and Egyptology. The last volume in the Collected Works of Hugh Nibley (vol. 19), One Eternal Round, was recently released. Hugh Nibley and his wife, the former Phyllis Draper, have eight children.

See, additionally, Professor Nibley’s chapter in Expressions of Faith: Testimonies of Latter-day Saint Scholars.

Posted March 2010

Today I am able to bear strong testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and the restored truths to be found in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

But this was not always so.

As a college student, a young man who had joined the Mormon Church only a few years earlier, I struggled to understand what a testimony was and how it could enrich my life. I believed the basic tenets of my new faith and tried to live them as best I knew how, but when others stood to share their testimonies, I did not.

Having dwelt in the world of higher education for more than four decades I am well aware of the pitfalls and dangers that surround a person who wishes to increase his or her faith while also learning the trade of skeptical inquiry and scholarly pursuit of worldly knowledge. How did I manage to emerge stronger from my many years of living among doubters and deniers?

Alma, a prophet in the Book of Mormon, likened a testimony to a seed, teaching us that we need to plant and nourish the seed until it grows into a strong tree (see Alma 32:27). This I did over the course of many years, and today my “testimony tree” is not only greater, but also more beautiful than I thought possible those many years ago.

I attribute this to four factors.

1. Seeking faith and knowledge.

The first step of a testimony is to pray for one. Alma said that if we have even a “desire to believe,” we are on the path toward understanding. Once we feel a testimony sprouting in our heart, we must continue our search. Another prophet explained this in a slightly different way when he wrote that if we would ask “with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith [even a little] in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost” (see Moroni 10:4).

My testimony began with this desire, slowly grew ever taller and stronger as I continued to seek for faith and understanding, and today dwarfs the tiny bush of my college years.

2. Listening to the Spirit.

What good can come from a sincere prayer if we do not also listen with equal intent? We must find quiet times and places that will allow the Spirit to speak to our hearts. This often requires us to turn off the world and tune out its distractions so that the “still, small voice” (see I Kings 19:11-12) may reach us.

A testimony will not be found in rock and roll music or violent movies or silly video games or glossy magazines purchased at the grocery store check-out lane. Nor will it be found in college courses or textbooks. Rather, it will be found as we seek the Lord, then listen to Him when He speaks to us—through answers to our prayers, through the words of ancient prophets in the scriptures and living ones in church sermons and writings. We would do well to wear out our scriptures in our search for truth, and to listen intently when our prophets speak today.

3. Doing what the Lord asks, including enduring the trials He sends our way.

God said He would bless us for our obedience and sacrifices, challenging us to “Prove me now herewith” (see Malachi 3:10). Moroni, a Book of Mormon prophet, wrote that “ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith” (see Ether 12:6). In our own age the Lord has taught that all blessings—including that of a stronger testimony—are predicated upon obedience to His commandments (see D&C 130:20-21) and that when we obey, the Lord is obligated to pour upon us the blessings He has promised (see D&C 82:10). I have “proven” the Lord, I have obeyed His word and I have received His blessings. Each time, my testimony has become stronger.

4. Sharing my testimony.

Jesus wants us to let our “light shine before men” (see Matthew 5:16). He knows that whenever we share what we know, our knowledge increases and our testimony grows. As sages have said, “That which is used becomes stronger. That which is not used wastes away.”

One of my favorite sayings is, “Preach the Gospel through your whole life. If necessary, use words.” As I have striven to share my testimony through words and deeds, through the clothes I wear and the words I speak, through countless times when my soul was sad as well as when it was bright, my ability, and my willingness, to say “I know . . .” have become larger.

Today there is no doubt, there is no worry, there is no fear—only knowledge that God knows me and loves me and stands ready to help me.

The Gospel of Jesus Christ is upon the earth. Portions can be found in many churches and in millions of good people. But its fullness is taught only by one church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. In this church is the Holy Priesthood that will bless and teach anyone who asks. In this church are the blessings of eternal life and exaltation made available to all. In this church are found the answers to eternal questions: Where did I come from? Why am I here? Where am I going?

I asked these same questions as a youth, and over the course of half a century found answers that brought peace to my soul as well as knowledge to my mind—and, I hope, dignity to my life.

———————————————————

Martin Raish is the director of the David O. McKay Library at Brigham Young University—Idaho. Formerly on the faculty at the State University of New York at Binghamton, he earned a master’s degree in library and information sciences from Brigham Young University and a Ph.D. in Pre-Columbian art history (with a specific focus on ancient Mexico) from the University of New Mexico.

He is the editor of Musings, Meanderings, and Monsters, Too: Essays on Academic Librarianship (Lanham, MD: The Scarecrow Press, 2003); (with Pat Ensor), Key Guide to Electronic Resources: Art and Art History (Medford, NJ: Information Today, 1996); and (with John L. Sorenson), Pre-Columbian Contact With the Americas Across the Oceans: An Annotated Bibliography, 2 vols. (Provo: Research Press, 1996).

Posted March 2010

This I Believe

My testimony did not come easy. As a young man in high school I wanted to know the Church was true. I did not just want to believe it or just have faith in it. I wanted to KNOW. I had faith in the Church but I still did not know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was true. The time came that I had to know. I had been told many times that, if I read the Book of Mormon and put Moroni’s promise (Moroni 10:4) to the test, I would know. I began reading the Book of Mormon again. Several times I had started to read it but never got past Mosiah. I remember when I finally broke that barrier and got to the book of Alma. How excited I was and I realized how much I had missed by not going further before. Helaman was a joy and 3 Nephi was wonderful. How could I have missed reading the glorious visit of the Son of God to the Nephites? I now read with greater spirit and anticipation. By the time I got to Moroni I was devouring the book. I could hardly wait because my testimony was almost here. I think I read the book of Moroni in one sitting. When I got to Moroni 10:4, I read again very carefully the promise that if I read the book and prayed about it I would know the book was true. I had done that, I was almost finished, and my testimony would soon be here. I finally arrived at the last verse in Moroni: “And now I bid unto all, farewell. I soon go to rest in the paradise of God, until my spirit and body shall again reunite, and I am brought forth triumphant through the air, to meet you before the pleasing bar of the great Jehovah, the Eternal Judge of both quick and dead. Amen” (Moroni 10:34). I closed the book and waited for the testimony to come. I waited and I waited, but nothing happened. There was no lighting bolt from heaven, there was no thunder, no angel, no voice from heaven, nothing. The next day still nothing. The same was true the following week, weeks, and months. I could not believe it. What was wrong? I wondered if this was a witness that the Church was not true, but as I looked into my heart I knew this was not the case, for everything in me told me the Church must be true. But I still did not know.

I came to a brilliant decision. Something must be wrong and it must be me. I decided to read Moroni 10:4 and see if I had fulfilled all that it said, so that I could claim the promise. I began reading: “And when you shall receive these things.” I had done that; I had read the Book of Mormon. “I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true.” I had done that. I read on. “And if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ.” I had done all that. But something caught my eye and so I went back and read this portion again. When I came to the words “with real intent,” those words sank deep into my soul and I suddenly realized that I had not really done that.

A number of years later I heard a story about Socrates. Since he was such a famous teacher many students came to him and wanted him to teach them. A young man once came to Socrates and said, “I have come sixteen hundred miles to talk to you about wisdom and learning. You are a man of wisdom and learning and I would like to be a man of wisdom and learning. Would you teach me . . .?” Socrates motioned for the young man to follow him to the seashore. The student willingly obeyed. Socrates did not stop on the shore but walked into the water until he was waist deep. The young man followed obediently. Socrates then grabbed the young man by the neck and held his head under water. At first the young scholar thought there must be a message he was trying to teach him and so he did nothing. However, after a few seconds he realized that Socrates was going to continue to hold his head under. He fought to free himself but to no avail. Finally, he collapsed. At this point Socrates carried him out of the water and left him on the shore. When the young man revived, he wondered what was that all about. Persistently he went back to the marketplace to find the reason for this rather unusual behavior. Socrates asked, “When your head was under the water, what was the one thing you wanted more than anything else?” The young man replied, “More than anything else I wanted air.” Socrates responded, “When you want wisdom and learning like you wanted air, you won’t need to ask anybody to give it to you.” (See Sterling W. Sill, in Conference Report, Apr. 1973, 145; or Ensign, July 1973, 104.)

I now realized that was where I was. At that moment I wanted a testimony more than anything else in this life, and then it came. Still, it was not the dramatic, emotional experience I had expected, I just suddenly knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the Church was true. Everything in me bore witness to that fact. I now understood what the “old timers” in the Church meant when they repeated in testimony meeting what I thought up to this time was a trite phrase, “I know the Church is true with every fiber of my being.” Now this phrase was no longer trite, for that is the way I knew, “with every fiber of my being.” Everything in me bore witness that the Church was true. What a glorious moment this was and one that has never left me from that day to this. I can still see myself in my dirty, greasy service station uniform sitting at the desk in my father’s service station, but now I was different. I truly had been born again.

From this beginning I have built and added to my testimony each year until I can say this is what I believe.

I believe in God the Eternal Father, in His Son Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Ghost. I know that God hears and answers my prayers. I know that He is our Father and that one day we will have to stand before Him to be judged of our works. For not only is He a God of mercy and love but He is also a God of justice. I am grateful for that because I know that He will deal justly with each one of us and will reward us for what we have done. We will not be cut short. He has promised that if we are faithful we will become “heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ” (Romans 8:17).

I believe in the Lord Jesus Christ. I know that He died for my sins and suffered for me and for all those who repent, in the Garden of Gethsemane and upon the cross of Calvary. I will be eternally grateful for His sacrifice. A verse from one of our popular hymns has been a very important part of my life ever since my first visit to Israel: “I marvel that He should descend from his throne divine to rescue a soul so rebellious and proud as mine.” It was made manifest to me by the Holy Ghost that those words referred to me. So even though I been proud, He could rescue me. I know that He loves me; I have felt that love. Oh, to be worthy and one day to stand in His presence eternally and feel the love that I felt on that occasion.

I believe in the Holy Ghost. I know He is real. By this means it has been my privilege to receive revelation. As a Bishop and a Stake President I had revelations for the benefit of the members of our ward and stake. When the people followed the revelations the Lord had given them through me, we witnessed great miracles in their lives. How sad to see some reject the Lord’s counsel, and lose the blessings and suffer because of it.

I believe in the divine calling of the Prophet Joseph Smith and know that he was a Prophet of God. Much of my adult life has been involved in teaching, writing, and reading about the Prophet Joseph Smith. From all my research, my testimony of him has greatly increased. When I was working on my thesis and dissertation, because of the study I was doing, I was granted access to many significant and confidential documents. I have seen documents that many people will never see. In all these documents I never found anything that weakened or destroyed my faith, but just the opposite. Everything I read built and strengthened my faith in the Church and the Prophet Joseph Smith and those who have succeeded him. Sometimes I hear people tell about all the “secret” documents that are housed in the Historical Department of the Church and how people cannot get access to them. I never found that was the case at all.

One of my favorite hymns is “Praise to the Man.” The reason that hymn is so important to me is because of the witness that it bears of the divine calling of the Prophet. Like Brigham Young, I want to cry out, “I feel like shouting hallelujah every time I think I knew the Prophet Joseph Smith.” And I have learned to know him and love him through those things that I have read about him as well as the powerful testimony that I heard my Grandmother Perkins bear about the Prophet Joseph Smith. Not only was this her own personal testimony but it was also a result of the powerful testimony she heard from her father who personally knew the Prophet Joseph Smith in Nauvoo. Another reason that I feel so strongly about Joseph Smith is because it is from him that I learned so much of what I know about God the Father and His Son Jesus Christ.

I believe in the Book of Mormon, Another Testament of Jesus Christ. I know it is the word of God. In the beginning of this essay I wrote why I know the Book of Mormon is true and the powerful witness that has come to me concerning it. I also know as I read it daily that the Spirit continues to bear witness to me of its truthfulness. Each time I gain some powerful new insights as a result of my reading. I have also seen the tremendous influence the Book of Mormon has had in the lives of others. I have seen many people converted to the Church by reading it. Truly it is the Church’s greatest missionary.

I believe in Living Prophets. I know that we are lead by Living Prophets who guide this Church just like the ancient Prophets and the Prophet Joseph Smith have done before. I have studied intently the life of each of the Presidents of the Church over many years. All you have to do is look at my library and see all the books I have on each of the Presidents of the Church. Next to the scriptures their teachings are my guiding star when it comes to wanting to know what the Lord wants me to do. Since President Harold B. Lee, I have tried to read almost all that the Presidents of the Church have written so that I know what the Lord expects of me. This has been like a personal interview with them. I used to jokingly tell my students I had a regular interview with the presidents of the Church. They always wondered how I was so privileged. Then I explained how I tried to read everything they had written or said. By the time you do this it is like having a personal interview with each of them and I began to really know them, what they thought and believed.

It has been my privilege to have some very personal and spiritual experiences with each of the presidents of the Church since President McKay. It was when I first saw and then shook hands with President McKay that I knew that he was a Prophet of God. How I longed to be in his presence anytime he came to where I lived. How often I photographed him as a young budding photographer. It was strange, but I knew he was a Prophet of God and yet I still did not know the Church was true.

Since then I have met, talked with, and had the privilege of taking several presidents of the Church on tours of the Ohio area. Each time I have been with them the Spirit has born record that they truly were prophets of God.

President Spencer W. Kimball always was so kind and gentle with me when I was in his presence. In Israel we had the great privilege to go in a small boat and pick up the Prophet from the large cruise ship he was on. We held a wonderful meeting on the Mount of Beatitudes where he spoke to us; it was my great privilege to introduce the Prophet of God to our students.

But, it was with President Ezra Taft Benson that I had the most intimate association. It started in the mission field when my companion and I picked him up at the airport and took him and his wife to the mission home. I have heard many people pray but I have never heard anyone pray like Elder Benson. As we knelt in family prayer in the Mission Home and he prayed I felt like President Grant when he went to Brigham Young’s home and knelt with them in family prayer. He said that he wanted to open his eyes to see the Lord standing by his side because that is the way Brigham Young prayed: He talked with the Lord. That is what I wanted to do as Elder Benson prayed. I too felt like opening my eyes and looking because I too felt the Lord was standing by his side. That is the way he prayed: He talked to the Lord. But the greatest prayer I heard him give was in the Kirtland Temple. We took him to the Kirtland Temple and the local Community of Christ leaders were very kind in allowing us to have some very special presentations given. Then to our surprise President Benson was asked by their leader to give a prayer. Once again the prayer he gave was very moving and personal. He talked to the Lord. As we walked to the car I told him that was one of the moving and spiritual experience of my life. He simply replied, “The Lord was very kind to us today.”

I had similar experiences with Presidents Gordon B. Hinckley and Thomas S. Monson as I have assisted in taking them on tours in Ohio. With all three—Presidents Benson, Hinckley, and Monson—I have had some very special and sacred experiences in Ohio. Each time the Spirit has testified to me that they are living Prophets, Seers, and Revelators who lead and guide this Church and the entire world in the direction the Lord wants us to go.

So I can testify that I know we are led today by living prophets of God. I know because I have walked with a number of them and listened to them as they prayed and have born witness that God lives, that Jesus is the Christ, that the Holy Ghost inspires and directs His Church and each of us. They lead and guide this Church in a very real and personal way. Most of all I know because the Holy Ghost has testified to me they are my God, my Savior, and my Testator.

—————————————————

I graduated in Secondary Education and History from Arizona State University. I received my Master’s Degree and Ph.D. in Church History and Doctrine from Brigham Young University. I taught in the Seminary and Institute program of the Church for thirteen years, and the last twenty-four years of my teaching career I taught Church History and Doctrine at Brigham Young University.

Posted March 2010

I have always enjoyed contemplating the difficult questions regarding physics, our universe, creation, etc. In particular I have been fascinated by the infinite nature of space and time, both the infinity of the very large and very small and the infinity of time going forward and going back. My research area of artificial intelligence and machine learning forces me to ask fundamental questions about the nature of intellect and free will, and what life is. Though we still know relatively little regarding these questions, I am amazed at how well the Gospel of Jesus Christ encompasses so many of the possible answers.

Another thing that amazes me (though to a lesser degree) is how quickly many people grasp onto the latest theories (scientific and otherwise) and assume that they are correct. You would think that thousands of years of experience demonstrating that our past scientific theories have proven inadequate would suggest, by induction, that our latest theories are probably also not the final answer. (You may go to this reference for my thoughts on these issues.)

I know that God lives, and that he loves us. Because of this love he desires that we can be happy. He knows that our happiness is based on the kind of people we become. Our happiness is directly related to the extent that we can gain more of the types of attributes that he has. These attributes include kindness, love, discipline, knowledge, mercy, justice, etc. He has created a plan that allows each one of us to progress and gain these attributes through obedience, suffering, challenges, and other opportunities. We do not have the capacity to attain these completely on our own. Our Heavenly Father sent his Son Jesus Christ to atone for our sins and weaknesses. Through his enabling grace, combined with our efforts, we can be transformed into better (and happier) people than we now are.

How do I know these things? First, the Spirit of God has communicated (revealed) to my spirit the truth of these things. This is a necessary condition for a testimony of God. This communication and assurance is not a one-time thing, but continues to occur. Second, years of experience turn this belief into knowledge. This happens as I continually study the Gospel and see how its truths remain consistent as our scientific and other theories drift. Also, as I strive to obey, abundant and continual spiritual experiences demonstrate the reality of God’s love and plan.

I have found for myself that these things are true. I know that anyone who desires can attain this same knowledge through prayer, study, and obedience. I know that following the principles that our Heavenly Father has taught us will lead to our greatest happiness both in this life and in the next. I am humbly grateful for all that our Father in Heaven and Jesus Christ have done and continue to do for us.

—————————————————–

Tony Martinez received a B.S. in computer science at Brigham Young University in 1982 and an M.S. and Ph.D. in computer science at UCLA in 1983 and 1986, respectively. He is a professor in the Computer Science Department at Brigham Young University (BYU), where he served as Department Chair for nine years. He currently directs the neural network and machine learning laboratory in the BYU Ph.D. program. He has published over 130 refereed journal and conference papers in the areas of machine learning, neural networks, and artificial intelligence, and has been involved in the organization of numerous international conferences in his fields. His vitae is at http://axon.cs.byu.edu/~martinez/vita.html.

Posted March 2010

Over twenty years ago, I learned that a member of my family had been excommunicated for joining a “Mormon fundamentalist” group. In response I researched their claims and doctrines and published three books on the topic. The most detailed is Modern Polygamy and Mormon Fundamentalism (Greg Kofford Books, 2006). A shorter version, Setting the Record Straight: Mormon Fundamentalism (Millennial Press, 2008), is also available. Throughout my analysis of their teachings, I remain unconvinced that their efforts are approved of God. Despite their apparent sincerity and traditions, I believe they are grossly misguided and in error.

Throughout my studies, I encountered many questions about the origin of plural marriage. Many authors claimed that the Prophet Joseph Smith was a womanizer who adopted polygamy to expand his sexual license. Eventually I committed myself to discover the bedrock truth concerning Joseph Smith’s polygamy. With the help of several others, I was able to either personally view (and transcribe) or to acquire copies of every known document dealing with the topic. These transcriptions will soon be available in an exhaustive two-volume treatment entitled: Joseph Smith’s Polygamy: History and Theology, to be published by Greg Kofford Books within the next year.

It appears that the best evidence indicates that Joseph Smith’s pre-Nauvoo reputation did not include gossip of licentiousness and that Fanny Alger was his first plural wife. Manuscript documentation supports plural sealings to perhaps thirty-four women, with many of those being for “eternity” only—that is, for the next life. Sexual relations were present in some of the Prophet’s plural marriages, but probably in much fewer than half and they were not a common occurrence. It appears that only two or perhaps three children were born through those unions. Evidence indicates Joseph Smith never participated in sexual polyandry (one wife with two husbands) and that he condemned such associations as adultery (Doctrine and Covenants 132:63). No historical data has been found supporting sexual relations with his two fourteen-year-old wives, consistent with Utah policy of waiting until the women matured. A review of the numerous allegations of sexual involvement with non-wives fails to identify any that do not suffer from factual errors, internal inconsistencies, or gross implausibilities.

My detailed review of Joseph Smith’s introduction of plural marriage among the Latter-day Saints supports the idea that he resisted for the same reasons that virtually every other Church member was repulsed. After being three times threatened by an angel, he moved forward and embraced the practice as a commandment of God.

I believe that for Latter-day Saints today, the scary part of Joseph Smith’s polygamy is not Joseph Smith, not his choices and behaviors. The scary part of Joseph Smith’s polygamy is simply polygamy, for he established it among his followers and lived it, emulating ancient prophets.

As if to answer the unbelieving critic, a late second-hand account quotes Joseph Smith as saying: “I am no false Prophet; I am no impostor; I have had no dark revelations; I have had no revelations from the devil; I made no revelations; I have got nothing up of myself. . . . God . . . [has] directed me and strengthened me in this work.” This is also my testimony of him.

——————————————————–

Brian C. Hales is a Utah-based anesthesiologist and author. Perhaps his most prominent work, thus far, is Modern Polygamy and Mormon Fundamentalism: The Generations after the Manifesto. He received his medical degree from the University of Utah and did his residency at the University of Kansas Medical Center.

Dr. Hales served a mission for the church The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and has been a member of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir .

His other books include The Priesthood of Modern Polygamy: An LDS Perspective (with J. Max Anderson), The Doctrines of Mormon Fundamentalism (with J. Max Anderson), Is Fundamentalism Fundamental?, Light: The Physical and Spiritual Nature of Light, The Veil, and Trials: Understanding and Overcoming. He also operates a web site at mormonfundamentalism.com.

I’ve been told that I am a scholar. I don’t really know about that. I’m not sure what a scholar is. Yes, I have all of the outward markings of a scholar: I have published articles and books; I have published narrative fiction and drama; I have created art. If that makes me somehow a scholar, then so be it—I am a scholar. But I am also something that does not fit comfortably within the usual parameters of scholar: I am a believing Christian; a Christian of the Mormon variety. I believe that the fullness of the gospel of Jesus Christ has been restored to the earth in these modern times through a prophet, called of God, named Joseph Smith.

What does that mean? It means that the priesthood, or power to act in the name of God, has been restored to the earth by heavenly messengers. I believe that through that priesthood, the organizational structure that can bless the lives of all humankind has been established by the name of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Within that organization the ordinances of salvation are available to every person who will accept them if they are willing to live the few redemptive basics outlined by God’s called prophets. These principles are outlined in the Book of Mormon, where Alma teaches potential converts what it means to “be Christian.” He teaches that “to be called His people” we must be “. . . willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light” and that we must “. . . stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things” (Mosiah 18:8-9). The crowning achievement of the restoration is what Mormons label “the plan of salvation.” This is Mormonism’s unique contribution to Christianity which answers the questions: Where did we come from? Why are we here? And, what is to become of us after this life? In answering these questions, modern day scriptures enhance exponentially our understanding of the creation of the world, the roles of our first parents, and the need for a Savior. Furthermore, a greater understanding of Jesus Christ’s great gifts of overcoming the physical death (the resurrection) and the spiritual death (the atonement) are made clear.

How can a scholar profess these things?

How can I do otherwise? Throughout history, wise men and women have struggled to understand the purpose of life. They have struggled to understand histories and to create philosophies. “So we make stories of our own, in fevered and envious imitation of our Maker, hoping that we’ll tell, by chance, what God left untold. And finishing our tale, come to understand why we were born” (Clive Barker, Sacrament, 1996). My joy as an academic and artist has been the luxury of immersing myself in the written and creative works of the great thinkers. But the most significant lesson I learned was taught me by a recent convert to the Church in the small town of Kolding, Denmark, where I was serving as a Mormon missionary. My companion and I were riding our bikes heading to who knows where, when we happened across one of the member ladies. We stopped to chat and learned that she was on her way home from the movie theatre where she had just seen My Fair Lady. For her it had been a wonderful experience, which she eagerly recounted. Then she said something that has guided my career these past forty years. She told us that she loved re-watching movies she had enjoyed, and loved re-reading books she had enjoyed ever since her baptism. “Everything is new. Everything is more wonderful. Everything means so much more to me because I am experiencing them with new eyes because of the Gift of the Holy Ghost.” She taught me what the Lord meant when he said, “seek ye out of the best books words of wisdom; seek learning, even by study and also by faith” (D&C 88:118).

In the New Testament, Paul teaches us to “Prove all things; hold fast that which is good” (I Thes. 5:21), excellent advice for a person carrying the burden of “scholar.” One morning in 1985, my wife and I were getting ready to leave the house and head to church for our Sunday services when I opened the front door and stooped down to pick up the Rochester, New York, morning newspaper, Democrat and Chronicle. Emblazoned on the front page, in large block type, was the headline, “Book of Mormon Proved False.” The story went on to talk about a bookseller, Mark Hoffman, and a letter he purportedly discovered that came to be known as “The Salamander Letter.” That and many other news stories have come and gone that have proven to be troublesome for some members of the LDS Church: the translation of the Book of Abraham, DNA and native Americans, Book of Mormon geography, the Mountain Meadows Massacre, polygamy, and church involvement in political issues, to name just a few. On none of those issues did I turn to Mormon apologists or polemics, neither did I hide my head in the ground just wishing for comfortable history or the salve of equivocation. Yet every one of those issues has been resolved thoroughly and peaceably within my own mind, most often when I least expected it. Once, for example, I was reading 1491: New Revelations of the Americas Before Columbus by Charles C. Mann and another time reading No More Goodbyes: Circling the Wagons Around Our Gay Loved Ones by Carol Lynn Pearson, when clear answers were manifest by the Spirit to some of the issues on the back burner of my mind. This is not remarkable. This is exactly how the Lord promises us that he will speak to us by “the still small voice inside.”

I do not ground my testimony completely on spiritual/aesthetic intuition. I have been blessed to have seen the hand of the Lord in my life, sometimes in very startling ways. As artists, my family was blessed to have callings with The Hill Cumorah Pageant: America’s Witness For Christ for almost twenty years; my wife was costume designer and I served in the Pageant presidency and then as artistic director. Time and time again we witnessed the hand of the Lord as He blessed the lives of pageant participants, often for reasons that remain private and personal to them. When I was called to be the director, the primary concern I faced, for example, was how to cast 650 cast members into the huge variety of roles demanded by the script. By way of contrast, casting the thirty-eight actors for a Broadway musical may require over a year; casting a college or community production calling for just a handful of actors usually requires three or four days. At Cumorah, the cast arrived on Friday, were assigned roles on Saturday morning, and began rehearsing that same afternoon. Traditional methods of casting are not possible. A previous director, Jack Sedarholm, explained the technique developed by Harold I. Hansen to “cast by the spirit.” Since all but one of the roles in the original pageant (1938-1987) were male, the artistic director would have all of the men file past in a continuous single file. As he considered a specific role, one of the actors would seem to stand-out from all the others. That participant was assigned the role in question. That system was the method of casting for all directors from the beginning through the first two years of the revised pageant, 1989. But then the process broke down because the new script had ten times more name characters, including many roles for women. As the new director, I had not experienced that kind of casting and I felt the need for a new approach.

A few months before my first season, I was speaking at a fireside in a small chapel in New York’s Southern Tier. A young man whose family had long been involved in Pageant was there speaking with me about the “pageant experience.” As “Craig” stood up to speak I received a strong prompting which I recognized as the Holy Ghost, that Craig was to be cast as “The Descending Christ,” one of the two most important roles in the production. “Oh!” I thought to myself, “This is how it works.” Having learned my inner lesson, I remained quiet, feeling the confirmation of the Spirit. But I did not report it at that time. Having had that experience, I prayerfully considered how to re-organize pageant casting. As the new cast members arrived on Friday, my associate directors and I were in the office greeting each and every person. They all thought we were just being friendly. Actually, the casting process had begun. As we talked with the incoming participants, we took notes both of “types” and of any “inspirations” we might feel. I, for example, had that same strong witness, experienced at the fireside, when one man came through the line that he was to be assigned the role of King Noah. On Saturday, we divided the men and women and organized them by age groupings. We organized the major roles in groups and divided the responsibility amongst the directors to cast various scenes. This was to be done by the spirit, following the principle that parts were to be assigned “by two or more witnesses” (D&C 6:28).

The directors began with prayer and then commenced the casting process by going to the appropriate age group of men or women where they selected six or seven potential actors who fit the physical stereotype for the role in question. A brief audition was conducted and the director got an impression for which actor should be chosen. Then a second director was shown the group. In most instances, both directors were impressed to select the same actor

During and after the process we began having remarkable experiences. When I cast the role of the Descending Christ, I told Craig that the Spirit had selected him the night of the fireside. He was astounded. It turned out that he had decided not to participate that year. It was not until two days before Pageant, when his circumstances changed, that he decided to join his family at Cumorah. Again, when I was about to select King Noah, the young man I noted the day before stepped out before his name was called. After I verified he was selected, he told me that on the flight to New York he had been impressed by the Spirit that he would play King Noah. It terrified him to the point that he almost turned around and went home. You see, he had recently been re-baptized a member of the Church and was not certain that he could endure playing the role of an apostate. He was perfect in the role, though, and had an affirming experience. At the end of casting all of the participants had gone their ways, to get costumes or rehearse, while the directors reviewed the cast. We were horrified to discover that neither Mormon nor his son Moroni had been selected, a devastating omission. These were two critical roles and all of the actors had already been assigned. We would have to bring back everyone in those two age groups. At that moment I looked over and saw a middle-aged man and an older teenage boy. I asked them what parts they had been given. They were a father and son, first time participants from Ohio, and they had been overlooked. They were perfect for Mormon and Moroni. The Lord had provided. It was not until the second week of Pageant that the father took me aside. He told me that he and his son had come to see the new Pageant its first year in 1988. Since that time his son had been praying for the opportunity to play the role of Moroni in the Hill Cumorah Pageant. Receiving these roles was a direct answer to his son’s earnest prayer.

Another year’s casting of the role of the Virgin Mary for the Nativity Scene resulted in a vivid spiritual experience for the entire cast. As the director reviewed the potential actresses, she felt impressed that a Japanese sister be included in the group. Not only was the participant not Hebrew or Caucasian, she could not speak English. After the audition process the director felt impressed that the Japanese sister should be given the role. She asked one of the other directors to review the potential sisters. After seeing them, he quietly said, “It may seem strange, but I think we should select the Japanese sister.” That was the second witness and she was awarded the role. Not speaking any English, the Japanese sister did not understand what had just happened. All she knew was that she was pointed toward the casting computer operator and was handed a card with her name and the role, “Virgin Mary.” At the same time in another location, two other associate directors were casting men for the same scene. As the Japanese sister arrived at the computer table, the young man selected to play her husband “Joseph” arrived at the table. Remarkably, he had just returned from a mission to Japan. He was able to be her guide and translator through the entire rehearsal and performance process. Time and time again, the Spirit witnessed who should be cast in various roles, sometimes to serve Pageant, sometimes as an answer to prayer, sometimes to serve the individual, most often for reasons that we never learned.

I learned a great spiritual lesson through my involvement with the Hill Cumorah Pageant regarding how the Spirit testifies. As part of the production process, we emphasized the spiritual development of the cast alongside the practical development of the show. We took time not only to rehearse, but to study the gospel in this sacred place and to enjoy the Spirit that was there. One evening, a few minutes before the performance was to begin, I was walking through the audience and happened across two gay theatre friends who had come to see the show. That was no great surprise, Mormon celebrities and even sports figures and movie stars of other faiths had been in our audience. But these two were unique. One was a theatre friend who I knew hated large cast productions and crowds. Ours was a cast of hundreds and an audience of thousands. I greeted them and asked if they’d like to sit in the reserved seating. They declined and we agreed to chat after the show. At the conclusion, I went over to where they had been seated and discovered they were gone. Given who the men were and what the circumstances were, I was not really surprised. A couple of weeks later, however, I received a call from one of the men. He apologized for leaving immediately following the show. He explained, “We were too overcome to talk. We just had to leave and process what had happened. It was the most spiritual experience either of us had in over a decade.” That was a testimony, that when one is engaged in the work of the Lord, the Spirit touches the hearts of everyone. The great lesson of Cumorah, for me, is that the spirit with which a work of art is created lives on in that art and touches the lives of all those who experience it.

As a scholar, how can I not testify of Jesus Christ and the Restoration of the Gospel? I have witnessed it in my heart by the whisperings of the Spirit. I have also seen the Lord’s hand manifest in the lives of scores of his children. It is my pleasure and my responsibility to share that testimony with you. And I do it in the sacred name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

——————————————————-

Gerald Argetsinger is an Associate Professor, Department of Cultural and Creative Studies, National Technical Institute for the Deaf, a college of the Rochester Institute of Technology in Rochester, New York. He received his B.A. in Theater at BYU, and then continued for his M.A. and Ph.D. at Bowling Green State University, Ohio. He joined NTID in 1975, where he has taught a variety of courses and chaired two departments. In the LDS Church, he has served extensively in ward and stake Young Men’s Presidencies, on the High Council, and in the Presidency and as Artistic Director of the Hill Cumorah Pageant. He is currently the High Priest’s instructor in his ward and serves on the Rochester New York Bi-Stake Public Relations Committee. His scholarship includes two volumes on the Danish playwright Ludvig Holberg and over 100 articles on theatre, literature, and magic. As a playwright, he has had twenty scripts published and/or produced, including Equality of Rights: the First Woman’s Rights Convention presented at the Women’s Rights National Historical Park, Seneca Falls, New York, on the occasion of the Sesquicentennial of the 1848 Convention. His revision of the Virginia State Outdoor Drama, Trail of the Lonesome Pine, is produced annually at the Tolliver Theater, Big Stone Gap, Virginia. He is the founder of the Gay Mormon Literature project and has presented nationally on Gay Mormon Fiction and Drama. He is a nationally recognized director both of outdoor drama, including the original production of Utah! in the Tuacahn Amphitheater, St. George, Utah, and the historical dramas Sword of Peace and Pathway to Freedom at the Snow Camp Outdoor Theatre near Greensboro, North Carolina. Of his other productions, he is particularly proud of directing Shakespeare’s The Tempest, Quintero Theatre, NYC (2000), and Peter Shaffer’s Equus (2009), in response to the Prop 8 brouhaha, examining the question, “What happens when someone’s worship is ripped from them?” He is married to award winning costume designer, Gail (Bishop) Argetsinger. Together they have raised two young men.

Posted March 2010