And those of you who know me are aware that I cry at the
opening of supermarkets. I, I've wept over ribbon cutting
at a used car lot. I have really been in tears
since I walked in here, partly just for the nostalgia, but more than that is what I feel when I am with you and when
I’m on this campus. I’m going to try to talk about that if I can. But it's been a moving
morning already. I, really, truly, I can’t imagine
anything that I could say that would add anything
to a remarkable morning. I think, Korina, where are you? Green and white, Korina,
your prayer. The older I get, the more
I listen to prayers. I need them more
the older I get. And I was very moved by your prayer and then these two remarkable dancers. Since this neuropathy has hit me, I can’t put my socks on
in the morning, and to watch those, whoops. It was a stunning, beautiful.
I don't know. I don't know who chose that piece
to be part of this program. But how wonderfully, wonderfully appropriate sheas baritone solo here. Robyn was one of my students somewhere once along the way back when the clay
beds were settling in. And so it goes on, our beloved
Kevin and Peggy were then. Thank you for the presidential message, Kevin,
but thank you for being presidential. Thank you for every day trying to
make this university what it's supposed to be. There are only two or three
living men who know the burden you carry. And that has added to the
nostalgia this morning for me. I love you, Kevin,
and I pray for you. I do literally pray for you as I pray for the destiny and
course of all who serve here, If you can’t tell,
I’m really, really moved to see you, these
people who’ve been awarded various awards and who represent so many others—who really
represent all of us— but take their turn in receiving
an award for making the university work. Everything from a Maeser faculty lecture to the chief
carpenter and lots of people in between
and along the way. Well, I have to get on, but you know, you've really moved me
one more one more, please. Can I ask you to do what I want here today, President? Andrew, stand up, please,
would you? Friends, this is my dear, dear friend Andrew Teale, the Reverend Dr. Andrew Teale
from Oxford University. But more than that,
my beloved friend, who's come to spend a semester at BYU, and you’ll recognize him by that
unusual little collar that he wears. And be sure and pester him and
throw rocks and do all the things that we
do to our guests. Andrew, I can't wait to spend time
with you all semester if we can figure out how to do it. But
thank you and welcome. You can go back to Oxford
if you want afterwards, but it won't be the
same after this. I’ve got to get serious here—
off to my business. Someone once told me that the
young speak of the future because they have no past, while the elderly speak
of the past, because they have no future. Although it damages that
little aphorism, I who have no future
and come to you as the veritable ancient of days. I’m
going to speak of the future, this future of BYU but one
anchored in our distinctive past. Now, if I’ve worded
that just right, it means I can talk about
anything I want. I am grateful that the full
university family is gathered today: faculty and staff
and administration. Regardless of your
job description, I'm going to speak to all of you
as teachers, because at BYU, that's what all of us are. Thank you for being faithful
role models in that regard we teach at BYU. I can't be certain, but I think
it was in the summer of 1948 when I had my first
BYU experience. I would have been seven years old. We were driving back
to St George in a 1941 Plymouth from one of our rare trips to Salt Lake
City. As we came down old Highway 91, I saw high on the
side of one of the hills a huge, huge block Y. It was white and bold and beautiful. I don't know how to explain
that moment. But it was a true epiphany
for a seven-year-old if a seven year old can
have an epiphany. If I had seen that Y on the
drive up or any other time, I couldn't remember it. I somehow thought I was seeing
it, probably was seeing it for the first time that day. I believe I was receiving
a revelation from God. I somehow knew that bold letter meant something special, and
it meant something special to me that it would one day play a significant role in my life, and I didn’t know what
it was or what it meant. I asked my mother what it meant. She said it was the emblem
of a university. I thought about that for quite a while, still watching
the side of the hill, and then said quietly to her, “Well, it must be the greatest
university in the world.” What can you expect from
a seven-year-old? My chance to actually get on
campus came in June 1952, four years after that
first sighting. That summer, I accompanied
my parents to one of the early leadership weeks, which is a precursor
to what is now the immensely popular Education
Week just concluded on this campus. That
means I came here for my first BYU experience
sixty nine years ago with a preview of that
four years earlier. Now, if anyone in this audience
has been coming to this campus longer than that, please come
forward and give this talk. Otherwise, sit still
and be patient. As Elizabeth Taylor said
to her eight husbands, I won't be keeping you long. My point, dear friends, is simply this: I have loved BYU
for nearly three fourths of a century. Only my service—service
in and testimony of The Church of Jesus Christ
of Latter-day Saints, which includes and features
foremost my marriage and the beautiful children
it has given us. Only these have affected
me as profoundly as has my decision to attend
Brigham Young University. No one in my family had. In so testifying, I represent
literally hundreds of thousands of other students who made that
decision and say that same thing. So for the legions of us over
the years, I say thank you. Thank you for what
you do. Thank you for classes taught and meals
served and grounds kept. Thank you for office hours
and lab experiments and testimony shared, gifts given to little
people like me so we could grow up to be
big people like you. Thank you for choosing
to be at BYU, because your choice affected
our choice. And like Mr. Frost's poetic poem, “that path has made all
the difference.” I asked President more
for a sample of the good things that have
been happening of late. And I was delighted at the sheaf
of items he gave me. Small type, single-spaced lines, reams that looked like everything
from academic recognition and scholarly rankings to
athletic success and the reach of BYU TV. Karl G.
Maeser would be as proud as I was. But President Worthen and
I both know those aren’t the real success stories of BYU. These are rather, as some say,
of ordinances in the Church, these are outward signs
of an inward grace. The real successes at BYU are
the personal experiences that thousands have had. Personal experiences, difficult
to document or categorize or list. Nevertheless, these are so
powerful in their impact on the heart and the mind that
they have changed us forever. I run a risk in citing any
examples to be on my own, but let me mention
just one or two. One of our colleagues seated here
this morning speaks of his first semester, his pre-mission enrollment
in my friend Wolfert Greg's history of civilization
class. But this was going to be
civilization seen through a BYU lens, so as preambles
to the course. Wilf had the students read
President Kimball’s second-century address, President Worthen. And he added the first chapter of
Hugh Nibley’s <i>Approaching</i> <i>Zion</i>. Taken together, our very literate
friend says these two readings, quote: “Forged an indestructible
union in my mind and heart between two
soaring ideals, that of a consecrated university
with that of a holy city. Zion, I came to believe, would
be a city with a school”— and I would add a temple—
“creating something of a celestial college town or
perhaps even a college kingdom.” After his mission, our faculty
friend returned to Provo, where he fell under the soul-
expanding spell of John Tanner. Quote: “the platonic ideal of
a BYU professor, superbly qualified in
every secular sense, totally committed to the kingdom, and absolutely effervescing
with love for the Savior, his students, and his subject. He moves”—still speaking of John— “seamlessly from careful teacher
analysis to powerful personal testimony. He knew scores
of passages from Milton and many other poets by heart. Yet verses of scripture flowed,
if anything, even more freely from the abundance of that
consecrated heart. I was unfailingly edified by
the passion of his teaching and the eloquence of his example.”
Close quote. Why would such an one come back
to teach at BYU after a truly distinguished postgraduate
experience that might well have taken him to
virtually any university in America? Because our colleague
says: “In a coming day, the citizens of Zion shall come
forth with songs of everlasting joy. I hope,” he writes “to help
my students hear that chorus, hear it in the distance, and lend their voices in time to its
swelling refrain.” Close quote. Well, such are the experiences we
hope to provide our students at BYU, though probably not always
so poetically expressed. Then imagine the pain that comes
with a memo like this one I recently received. These are
just a half a dozen lines from a two-page document. “You should know,” the
writer says, “that some people in the extended
community are feeling abandoned and betrayed at BYU or by BYU. It seems that some professors, at least the vocal ones
in the media, are supporting ideas that many of
us feel are contradictory to gospel principles, making it
appear to be about like any other university our sons and daughters
could have attended. Several parents have said they
no longer want to send their children here or donate
to the school. Please don't think I'm opposed to
people thinking differently about policies and ideas,” the
writer continues. “I’m not. But I would hope that BYU
professors would be bridging those gaps between faith
and intellect and would be sending out students
that are ready to do the same in loving, intelligent,
articulate ways. Yet I fear that some faculty
are not supportive of the Church’s doctrines
and policies and choose to criticize
them publicly. There are consequences to this. After having served a
full-time mission and marrying her husband
in the temple, a friend of mine recently left the Church. In her graduation
statement on a social media post. She credited such and such a BYU
program and its faculty with the radicalization of
her attitudes and the destruction of her faith.” Well, fortunately, we don't get
too many of those letters, but this one isn't unique. Several of my colleagues get the same kind, with almost all of
them ultimately being forwarded to poor president Kevin Worthen. Now, most of what happens on this campus is absolutely
wonderful. That's why I began, as I did.
That's why I'm crying. I say it with my own undying love for this place. But every so often we
need a reminder of the challenge we constantly face
here. Maybe it's in this meeting. I certainly remember my own
experience in these wonderful beginning-of-the-school-year
meetings and how much it meant to
me to be with you then. Well, it means that again today. Here is something I said
on this subject forty-one years ago,
almost to the day. I was young, I was unprepared. I had been
president for three weeks. I said and I say now that if we're an extension of The Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints and take a significant amount
of sacred tithes and other human precious
resources, all of which might well be
expended in other worthy causes, surely our integrity demands that
our lives be absolutely consistent with and
characteristic of the restored gospel
of Jesus Christ. At a university, there
will always be a healthy debate regarding a whole
syllabus full of issues. But until we all come to
the unity of the faith and have grown to the measure
of the stature of the fullness of Christ, our next-best achievement will
be to stay in harmony with the Lord's anointed, those whom
he has designated to declare Church doctrine and to guide
Brigham Young University as its trustees. In 2014. Seven years ago, then- Elder Russell M. Nelson came to
campus in this same setting. His remarks were relatively brief,
but tellingly, he said: “With the Church growing
more rapidly in the less prosperous countries, we must conserve sacred funds more
carefully than ever before. At BYU, we must ally ourselves
even more closely with the work of our Heavenly Father. A college education persay
for our people is a sacred responsibility, but it’s not essential
for eternal life.” A statement like that
gets my attention, particularly because just
a short time later, President Nelson chairs our board,
holds our purse strings, and has the final “yea” or “nay”
on every proposal we make. From a research lab to more
undergraduate study space to approving a new pickup for
the physical facilities, staff Russell M. Nelson is very,
very good to listen. He is very good to listen to us. We, who sit with him every day, have learned the value of
listening carefully to him. Three years later, 2017. Elder Dallin Oaks, then not then, but soon to be in the
First Presidency, he would be sitting where
only one chair, one heartbeat away from the same position President
Nelson now has. He quoted our colleague, Elder
Neil Maxwell, who had said, and I quote: “In a way, Latter-day Saints scholars
at BYU and elsewhere are a little bit like the builders
of the temple in Nauvoo, who worked with a trowel in one
hand and a musket in the other. Today, scholars building the temple of learning must also
pause on occasion to defend the kingdom.” I personally
think Elder Maxwell went on to say this is one of the
reasons the Lord established and maintains this university. The dual role of builder
and defender is unique and ongoing. I'm grateful we have
scholars today who can handle, as it were, both trowel on musket. Then Elder Oaks said
challengingly, “I’d like to hear a little
more musket fire from the temple of learning.” He said this in a way that
could have applied to a host of topics in various
departments. But the one he specifically
mentioned was the doctrine of the family and defending marriage
as the union of a man and a woman. Little did he know that
while many would hear his appeal, especially the school
of family life, who moved quickly and visibly
to assist, some others fired their muskets all right. But unfortunately, he didn't
always aim at those hostile to the Church. We thought a couple of stray rounds even
went north of the point of the mountain. My beloved
brothers and sisters, a house divided against
itself cannot stand. And I’ll go to my grave pleading that this institution not only stands but stands
unquestionably committed to its unique academic mission and the
Church that sponsors it. We hope it isn't a surprise to you
that your trustees are not deaf or blind to the feelings
that swirl around marriage and the whole same-sex
topic on campus and a lot of other topics. I and many of my brethren and
have spent more time and shed more tears on this subject than we could ever adequately
convey to you this morning or any morning. We
have spent hours discussing what the doctrine of
the Church can and cannot provide the individuals and families
struggling over this difficult issue. So it’s with a little
scar tissue of our own that we are trying to avoid and hope all will try to avoid
language and symbols and situations that are more
divisive than unifying at the time we want to show love
for all of God’s children. If a student commandeers a graduation podium intended to
represent everyone getting diplomas that day in order to
announce his personal sexual orientation, what might another
speaker feel free to announce the next year until eventually
anything goes? What might commencement
come to mean or not mean if we push individual
license over institutional dignity for very long? Do we simply end up with more
divisiveness in our culture than we already have? And we already
have far too much everywhere. In that spirit, let me go no farther before declaring unequivically my love and that of
my brethren for those who live with this
same-sex challenge and so much complexity that
goes with it. Too often the world has been
unkind, in many instances, crushingly cruel. To these
our brothers and sisters, like many of you, we have spent hours with
them. We have wept and prayed and wept again. In an effort to offer love at the hope while keeping the gospel strong and obedience to commandments
evident in every individual life. But it will assist all of us, it will assist everyone trying to
provide help in this matter if things can be kept in some
proportion and balance in the process. For example, we have to be careful that love and empathy do not get interpreted
as condoning an advocacy or that orthodoxy and loyalty to
principle not be interpreted as unkindness or disloyalty to
people. As near as I can tell, Christ never once withheld
His love from anyone. But he also never once said to
anyone, “Because I love you, you are exempt from keeping my commandments.” We're tasked with trying to strike
that same sensitive, demanding balance in our lives.
Musket fire? Yes, we will always need defenders
of the faith. But friendly fire is a tragedy. And from time to time, the Church, its leaders, and some of
our colleagues within the university community have
taken such fire on this campus. And sometimes it isn’t friendly, wounding students and the
parents of students. So many who are confused about
what so much recent flag-waving and parade holding on
this issue means. My beloved friends, this
kind of confusion and conflict ought not
to be not here. There are better ways to move
toward crucially important goals in these very difficult matters— ways that show empathy and
understanding for everyone while maintaining loyalty
to prophetic leadership and devotion to reveal doctrine. My brethren have made the case for
the metaphor of musket fire, which I have endorsed
yet again today. There will continue to be those
who oppose our teachings, and that will continue
the need to define, document, and defend the faith.
But we all look forward to the day when we can beat our swords
into plowshares and our spears into pruning hooks. And at least on this subject, learn war no more. And while I have focused on this
same-sex topic this morning more than I would have liked, I pray that you will see
it as emblematic of a lot of issues our students
and our community, our Church faces in this complex
contemporary world of ours. But I digress. Back to the blessings
of a school in Zion. Do you see the beautiful parallel
between the unfolding of the Restoration and the prophetic
development of BYU, notwithstanding that both will
have their critics along the way? like the Church itself, BYU has grown in spiritual
strength in the number of people it
reaches in service and in its unique place, among other institutions
of higher education. It's grown in national and
international reputation. More and more of its faculty are
distinguishing themselves, and even more importantly, so are more and more
of its students, reinforcing the fact that so many of them do understand
exactly what that unfolding
dream of BYU is that President Worthen then spoke
about. Not long ago, one of your number wrote to me
this marvelous description of what he thought was his
call and our call and the call of these new faculty
members who just stood who come to serve at BYU. I quote: “The Lord’s call to those of
us who serve at BYU is a call to create learning
experiences of unprecedented depth, quality, and impact. As
good as BYU is and has been, this is a call to do better. It's a call to educate more
students, to be more effective, to more effectively help them
become true disciples of Jesus Christ, to prepare them to
lead in their families and the Church and professions and in
a world filled with commotion. But answering this call cannot be
done successfully without His help. I believe,” the writer,
one of you, concludes “that will help,that
help will come according to the faith
and obedience of the tremendously good and faithful people at Brigham
Young University,” I agree wholeheartedly and
enthusiastically with such a sense of calling here
and with that reference to and confidence in the tremendously
good people of Brigham Young University. Now, let me underscore
that idea of such a call by returning to President
Kimball’s second-century address still focused on by President
Worthen. Our bright, budding new Commissioner of Education,
Elder Clark Gilbert, is one of my traveling
companions today. You may be certain that Clark
loves this institution, his alma mater, deeply and
brings to his assignment a reverence for its mission
and its message. As part of Dr. Gilbert's
introduction to you, I'm asking Elder Gilbert to come
on campus on any calendar he and President Worthen
can work out. And whether those visits are formal
or casual or both, I hope they can accomplish
at least two things. First of all, I hope you'll
come to see quickly the remarkable strengths Elder Gilbert brings
to his calling, even as he learns more about
the flagship of his fleet and why our effort at a Church
educational system would be a failure without the health
success and participation of BYU. Secondly, noting that we're just
these few short years of halfway through the second 100 years that
President Kimball spoke about, as Elder Bednar said earlier, I think it would be fascinating
to know if we are, in fact, making headway on the challenges
he laid before us and of which Brother Bednar
reminded the leadership team just a few weeks ago. When you look at
President Kimball’s talk again, a copy of which will be
distributed following this conference, may I ask you to pay
particular attention to that sweet prophet's effort to
ask that we be unique? In his discourse, President
Kimball used the word <i>unique</i> eight times and
<i>special</i> eight more times. It seems clear to me and my 73
years of loving it that BYU will become an educational
Mt. Everest only to the degree it embraces its
uniqueness, its singularity. We could mimic every other
university in this world until we get a bloody nose in the effort. And that world would
still say BYU, who? No, we must have the will
to be different, to stand alone if necessary,
being a university second to none in its role, primarily as an undergraduate teaching
institution, that is unequivocally true
to the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. If at a future time that mission
means forgoing some professional affiliations and certifications,
then so be it. There may come a day when the
price we are asked to pay for such association
is simply too high, too inconsistent with who we are. No one wants it to come to that,
least of all me. But if it does, we will pursue
our own destiny, a destiny that is not
a matter of chance, but largely a matter of choice,
a destiny, not a thing to be waited for, but a thing to be envisioned
and achieved. Mom. What is that big Y on that mountain? Jeff, that stands for the
university here in Provo, Brigham Young University. Well, It must be the greatest university.
In the world. And so for me, it is. To help you pursue that destiny in the only way I
even know how to help. I leave that apostolic blessing on
every one of you this morning as you start another school year. In the name of the Lord
Jesus Christ. And with gratitude for His holy
priesthood and as if hands were on your head. Had we time to
do that, we surely would. I bless you personally, each
one of you personally. I bless the students who have
come under your influence, and I bless the university,
including its marvelous president in his campus-wide endeavor, I bless you that profound
personal faith will be your watchword and that unending blessings of
personal rectitude will be or eternal reward. I bless your professional work that it'll be admired
by your peers, and I bless your devotion
to gospel truths that it will be the saving grace
in some student’s life. I bless your families that those you hope will
be faithful in keeping their covenants will be saved, at least in part because you've been faithful in keeping yours.
Light conquers darkness. Truth triumphs over error.
Goodness is victorious over evil, in the end, every time. I bless each one of you with every righteous desire
of your heart. And I thank you for giving your
love, your loyalty to BYU. To students like me
and my beloved wife, please, from one who owes so much
to this school and has loved her so deeply for so long, keep her standing, but stand in for what
she uniquely and prophetically was meant to be. And may the rest of higher
education see your good works and glorify our Father,
which is in Heaven, I pray in the name
of Jesus Christ, Amen.
Hey guys, this address is a sensitive topic for many. Please be mindful of our rules, including civility and [no] excessive criticisms of Church leaders.
I think it’s important to pair this talk with Elder Uchtdorf’s from education week. I believe it was called Messages We All Need to Hear. I suggest watching them back to back chronologically. In fact it almost felt to me when I did so that Uchtdorf’s address was inspired message sent to lay the groundwork for Holland’s.
Read the talk it has always bothered me that the leadership of the church is always prone to quickly call out the problem with “progressive” views taught at BYU, but seems hesitant to call out the more “conservative” views that may be taught at BYU. I heard some pretty wild and in some cases inappropriate opinions from faculty while attending BYUI
I believe both the far right and the far left views are dangerous to the church, but It seems that the leadership of the church quite frequently criticizes the far left, but let’s the far right slide.
I don’t mean to get to political but it is frustrating to see.
I do not think it is fair to blame a professor, who is in good enough standing with the Church to teach at its flagship university, for the apostasy of someone that attended their class.
To treat Church history or other potentially sensitive topics with kid gloves does a disservice to students. I have seen far more people leave the Church because they were never told of something than those who had apostatized because they were trying to be taught about those same subjects.
Can I get a tl;dr?
"As near as I can tell, Christ never once withheld His love from anyone, but He also never once said to anyone, ‘Because I love you, you are exempt from keeping my commandments.’”
This is disheartening. I’ll take some time to process it and bring it to the Lord, but my initial emotion is sadness and frustration. I don’t want to be labeled as an enemy, but I feel like, per this talk, my existence in the church is an issue and something people would prefer to live without. This is seemingly backed up by the many comments on the YouTube video on the “worldliness” and “radicalization” of BYU. One in particular called for the firing of the “wolves” or the professors presumed to be infiltrators in the school of the faithful. At the end of the day, I feel welcomed and loved by Christ and God, but this talk has me feeling like I don’t belong. It’s a feeling that will likely pass, but it’s the emotion I have during and directly after listening.
[removed]
I think the brethren are trying to walk a tight rope of loving our gay friends and church members while not condoning the practice of homosexuality. I think this is a Elder Holland saying the pendulum has gone too far and it needs to be reeled in again - at the cost of the schools accreditation, if necessary.