I spoke in church a couple of weeks ago (July 13th), and this is roughly the talk I gave:
How great a blessing it is that we could partake of the sacrament today. Many times I have had the privilege of administering. I have often thought about how I have to reach out the sacrament tray as far as I can before the deacon or teacher will take it, so also does Christ reach out to us, and we need only accept Him. Today was different because as soon as I lifted up the tray, Mason was grabbing it out of my hands.
Every year my family climbs at least one mountain. this year we climbed Mt. Whitney in California. the journey started with my dad and me driving the ten hour drive from Central Point to Lone Pine, California. My mom had been staying with her sister in Las Vegas, so we met up with her, my aunt, and my cousin, Haley, at Whitney Portal. It was ten o'clock at night when we all met up, but my mom and aunt were so excited to get started that we began. My aunt dropped something, so my dad and I went back to look for it. It was a beautiful night. The moon had set, and stars lit up the sky. In open areas, we would turn off our flashlights and hike by starlight. Eventually the sun began to rise. Long before it appeared above the horizon, its light lit up the mountain and the landscape. The view that had been dark before slowly, but majestically, became visible. The mountain went from black to a sparkling white and even at the high elevation beautiful blue flowers grew between the slabs of granite. Tired, fatigued, and a little bit sick from the high elevation, we reached the top. I immediately laid down in exhaustion on the peak. After a while, we started the trek back down. At the lower elevation, my headache eased and I began to think back on what I had gone through so far. I love the testimony of Alma contained in Alma 30:44.
The scriptures are laid before thee, yea, and all things denote there is a God; yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it, yea, and its motion, yea, and also all the planets which move in their regular form do witness that there is a Supreme Creator.
In Moses 6:63, The Lord Himself gives witness of this.
And behold, all things have their likeness, and all things are created and made to bear record of me, both things which are temporal, and things which are spiritual; things which are in the heavens above, and things which are on the earth, and things which are in the earth, and things which are under the earth, both above and beneath: all things bear record of me.
All things bear witness that there is a God. All things testify of Him in some way. As I was coming down, I thought a person might ask why I climb mountains just to reach the top and be tired, miserable, and cold. Why would I leave the comfort and security of my home? There is another who left the comfort and security of His home. Unlike me, He left His father as well. At the climax of His trials, He cried out, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”. Christ suffered infinitely for our sakes. On the mountain were patches of snow. The melt from the snow provided the water that sustained the life abundant in the valley below. Without the mountain, the snow would not provide the year round source of water the plants needed. As we were hiking, we would refill our water bottles from these streams. The streams also provided the water we needed to climb the mountain. Similar to the snow melt, Christ’s atonement provides the living water that can purify and sanctify us, that can provide what we need to survive spiritually and physically on our journey. Christ’s sacrifice when partaken of will sustain us in life.
The reason I climbed the mountain was different then Christ though. The reason each of us climb the figurative mountains of life is different from Christ. We can not do what He did for us. What He did was the greatest act of love and mercy for us. I testify that He loves each of us individually.
There are two analogies that help me better understand the purpose of our mountains.
First: A man found a cocoon of a butterfly, that he brought home.
One day a small opening appeared in the cocoon. He sat and watched the cocoon for several hours as the butterfly struggled to force its body through that little hole. Then it seemed to stop making progress. It appeared as if the butterfly had gotten as far as it could, and it could go no further. The man decided to help the butterfly in it's struggle. He took a pair of scissors and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon, and the butterfly emerged easily. As the butterfly emerged, the man was surprised. It had a swollen body and small, shriveled wings. He continued to watch the butterfly expecting that, at any moment, the wings would dry out, enlarge and expand to support the swollen body. He thought that in time the body which would contract and the butterfly would be able to fly.
But neither happened! In fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled wings.
It never was able to fly.
What the man, in his kindness and haste, did not understand was that the restricting cocoon and the struggle to escape were required for the butterfly to be able to fly. The butterfly must push its way through the tiny opening to force the fluid from its body and wings. Only by struggling through the opening, can the butterfly's wings be ready for flight once it emerges from the cocoon.
The most important purpose of our mountains, our trials and struggles, is to change us. Our purpose here on the earth is to grow and to learn so that we can become like God. The butterfly had to go through the struggles of escaping the cocoon to be able to fly. So to do we have to go through forging trials to reach our divine potential of becoming as God is. We can not however do this alone. Fortunately, we are not alone.
The second analogy expounds on this. Many of us here have taken piano lessons. As was the case for me, most often our moms pay for the lessons. In return, she asks us to practice, practice, practice. Our practicing does not pay her back. It does not pay the piano teacher back. It is also not a punishment. Its purpose is to change us. Our mom pays the price of the lessons and calls for us for us to practice out of love.
This is like unto Christ. His suffering, His atonement, has effectively paid for our sins. In 1 Peter 2:9, Peter calls us a “peculiar people”. This does not necessarily referring to our strange culture. The footnote interchanges the word peculiar with the word purchased. Like how mom pays for piano lessons, Christ has purchased us. This is an enabling thing. because of it our trials are not a punishment, but an opportunity to grow and become like God.
A great example of that comes from the life of Daniel W. Jones. He was saint in the early days of the church and had gone with a rescue party to aid handcart companies that had become stranded in Wyoming by severe storms. In his journal he wrote,
“Game soon became so scarce that we could kill nothing. We ate all the poor meat; one would get hungry eating it. Finally that was all gone, nothing now but hides were left. We made a trial of them. A lot was cooked and eaten without any seasoning and it made the whole company sick. Many were so turned against the stuff that it made them sick to think of it. . . .
“Things looked dark, for nothing remained but the poor raw hides taken from starved cattle. We asked the Lord to direct us what to do. The brethren did not murmur, but felt to trust in God. We had cooked the hide, after soaking and scraping the hair off until it was soft and then ate it, glue and all. This made it rather inclined to stay with us longer than we desired. Finally I was impressed how to fix the stuff and gave the company advice, telling them how to cook it; for them to scorch and scrape the hair off; this had a tendency to kill and purify the bad taste that scalding gave it. After scraping, boil one hour in plenty of water, throwing the water away which had extracted all the glue, then wash and scrape the hide thoroughly, washing in cold water, then boil to a jelly and let it get cold, and then eat with a little sugar sprinkled on it. This was considerable trouble, but we had little else to do and it was better than starving”
They were in dire straits to say the least, and were eating this awful meal. It is insightful what they prayed for. I quote again,
“We asked the Lord to bless our stomachs and adapt them to this food”
“We hadn’t the faith to ask him to bless the raw-hide, for it was ‘hard stock.’ On eating now all seemed to relish the feast. We were three days without eating before this second attempt was made. We enjoyed this sumptuous fare for about six weeks”
They did not pray for their circumstances to change. They prayed that they would change, that they would be adapted to the food. This was done to such an extent that Brother Jones ended up calling it a sumptuous fare. Can you imagine calling cooked cow hide a sumptuous fare? This change is the enabling power of the atonement. It allows us to change and to grow to have the strength to face any challenge that comes our way. It enables us to become like God.
One of my favorite lines in scripture is that in 1 John 4:8: God is love. The enabling power of the atonement helps us to love. Recorded in 1 Samuel chapter 25 is the account of David, son of Jesse, and Nabal. David was not yet king of Israel, but had a group of followers. They guarded the flocks of Nabal that would otherwise have been plundered. David sent messengers unto Nabal asking for provisions for having done this service. Nabal refused. Angry, David and his men marched against Nabal. Nabal’s wife Abigail, hearing of this loaded donkeys with food and quickly went to meet David. On meeting him, she fell on the ground and said, “Upon me, my Lord, upon me let this iniquity be”. Christ not only took on our individual sins, but also everyone else’s. Like how Abigail came to David and said, “Upon me let this iniquity be”, with His atonement, Christ effectively comes to each of us saying, “Upon me is this iniquity. I have taken it upon me”. To not forgive Nabal, David would have had to have not forgiven Abigail. To not forgive others, we would have to reject Christ’s atonement. And oh how we need it! Christ said, “I will forgive whom I will forgive, but of you it is required to forgive all men”. By taking on Himself all sin, all pains, all afflictions, Christ enables us to do just that.
On Mt. Whitney, there was a small stone shelter at the top. To get out of the wind, my family huddled together in it. This past week I had the blessing of entering into covenants with The Lord in the temple. On a coach in the celestial room, my family once again huddled together outside the winds of life. These short moments are testimonies to me that despite all the struggles we will face in life, enduring to the end is more than worth it. I testify this is true in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
