I welcome you to a Christian campus where
discipleship and scholarship are uniquely blended. I salute your ecclesiastical and
academic leaders, so many of whom are with us tonight. They will serve you exceedingly
well. My brothers and sisters, as on another occasion
at this pulpit, I will speak out of my own strugglings about another unglamorous but
very crucial gospel objective. Then, the subject was patience, a virtue which is regarded
by some as quite pedestrian but which is essential to our development and happiness. Our focus tonight will be on meekness, a
companion virtue to patience. Meekness, too, is one of the attributes of Deity. Instructively,
Jesus, our Lord and Exemplar, called attention to Himself as being “meek and lowly in heart.”
Paul extolled the “meekness and gentleness of Christ.” The Greek rendition of the word meek in
the New Testament, by the way, is gentle and humble. Actually, meekness is not only an attribute
essential for itself; Moroni declared that it is also vital because one simply cannot
develop those other crucial virtues—faith, hope, and charity—without meekness. In the
ecology of the eternal attributes these cardinal characteristics are inextricably bound up
together. Among them, meekness is often the initiator, the facilitator, and the consolidator. Moreover, if one needs any further persuasion
as to how vital this virtue is, Moroni warned, “none is acceptable before God save the
meek and the lowly in heart.” If we could but believe, really believe, in the reality
of that bold but accurate declaration, you and I would then find ourselves focusing on
the crucial rather than the marginal tasks in life! We would then cease pursuing life-styles
which, inevitably and irrevocably, are going out of style! There would be little reason for speaking
to you of meekness if you were not serious candidates for the celestial kingdom. You
live in coarsening times, times in which meekness is misunderstood and even despised. Yet meekness
has been, is, and will remain a non-negotiable dimension of true discipleship. Its development
is a remarkable achievement in any age, but especially in this age. Furthermore, whether you realize it or not,
you are a generation drenched in destiny. If you are faithful, you will prove to be
a part of the winding-up scenes for this world, and as participants, not merely as spectators,
though on later occasions you might understandably prefer to be the latter. Even so, why the stress on meekness? Merely
because it is nice to be nice? The reasons are far more deeply imbedded in the “plan
of happiness” than that! God, who has seen billions of spirits pass
through His plan of salvation, has told us to be meek in order to enhance our enjoyment
of life and our mortal education. Will we be meek and listen to Him and learn from Him?
Or will we be like the Gadarene swine, that pathetic example of totus porcus—going
whole hog—after the trends of the moment? Perhaps, brothers and sisters, what we brought
with us as intelligences into our creation as spirit children constitutes a “given”
within which even God must work. Add to that possibility the clear reality of God’s deep
commitment to our free agency—and we begin to see how essential meekness is! We need
to learn so much, and yet we are free to choose! How crucial it is to be teachable! There “is
no other way” in which God could do what He has declared it is His intent to do. No
wonder He and His prophets emphasize meekness time and time again! Since God desired to have us become like Himself,
He first had to make us free, to learn, to choose, and to experience; hence our humility
and teachability are premiere determinants of our progress and our happiness. Agency
is essential to perfectibility, and meekness is essential to the wise use of agency—and
to our recovery when we have misused our agency. Let us not brush by this developmental premise.
The scriptures concerning life’s purposes do make it clear that we are to become like
the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ: “Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father
which is in heaven is perfect.” “Therefore I would that ye should be perfect even as
I, or your Father who is in heaven is perfect.” “Therefore, what manner of men [and women]
ought ye to be? Verily I say unto you, even as I am.” It is an awesome objective—impossible
of attainment without meekness. The Father and our Savior desire to lead us
through love, for if we were merely driven where They wish us to go, we would not be
worthy to be there, and, surely, we could not stay there. They are Shepherds, not sheepherders. In that premortal council, wherein Jesus meekly volunteered
to aid the Father’s plan, He said, “Here am I, send me.” It was one of those special
moments when a few words are preferred to many. Never has one individual offered, in
so few words, to do so much for so many as did Jesus when He meekly proffered Himself
as ransom for us, billions and billions of us! In contrast, we see in ourselves, brothers
and sisters, the unnecessary multiplication of words—not only a lack of clarity, but
vanity. Our verbosity is often a cover for insincerity or uncertainty. Meekness, the
subtraction of self, reduces the multiplication of words. Without meekness, the conversational point
we insist on making often takes the form of I, that spearlike, vertical pronoun. Meekness,
however, is more than self-restraint; it is the presentation of self in a posture of kindness and gentleness.
It reflects certitude, strength, serenity; it reflects a healthy self-esteem and a genuine
self-control. So in matters little or large, if our emulation
of the Lord is to be serious, we must do more than note and admire Jesus’ meekness. He
passed through “all of these things” which gave Him, too, needed experiences. However, meekness is one of those attributes
acquired only by experience, some of it painful, for it is developed “according to the flesh.”
It is not an attribute achieved overnight, nor is it certified to in but one exam; rather,
it is certified to “in process of time.” The Savior said we are to “take up [the]
cross daily”—not just once or occasionally—and taking up the cross daily surely requires
meekness. There is, of course, much accumulated stereo-typing
surrounding this virtue. We even make nervous jokes about meekness, such as, “If the meek
intend to inherit the earth, they are going to have to be more aggressive about it!”
We even tend to think of a meek individual as being used and abused—as being a doormat
for others. However, Moses was once described as being the most meek man on the face of
the earth, and we recall his impressive boldness in the courts of Pharaoh
and his scalding indignation following his descent from Sinai. President Brigham Young, who was tested in
many ways and on many occasions, was once tried in a way that required him to “take
it”—even from one he adored and admired. Brigham “took it” because he was meek.
Yet, surely, none of us sitting here would think of Brigham Young as lacking in boldness
or firmness. However, even President Young, in the closing and prestigious days of his
life, spent some time in courtrooms being unjustifiably abused. When he might have chosen
to assert himself politically, he “took it”—meekly. Fortunately, you and I have had a chance to
see, at rather close range, the remarkable meekness which operates in the life of President
Spencer W. Kimball. His, too, is an impressive meekness which has combined with sweet boldness,
producing signal achievments in the Kingdom. Granted, none of us like, or should like,
to be disregarded, to be silenced, to see a flawed argument prevail, or to endure a
gratuitous discourtesy. But such circumstances as these seldom constitute that field of action
from which meekness calls upon us to retire gracefully. We usually do battle unmeekly
over far less justifiable issues, such as “turf.” Just what is this “turf” we insist on
defending at almost the slightest provocation? If it is real estate, it will not rise with
us in the resurrection. If it is concern over the opinions of us held by others, there is
only one opinion of us that really matters. Besides, the opinions of others will only
be lowered if we go on and ego tantrum. If “turf” is status, we should not be overly
concerned with today’s organizational charts. Who cares now about the peck order in the
Sanhedrin of A.D. 31 which meant so much to some at the time? Granted, there are some things worth being
aroused about, as the Book of Mormon says, such as our families, our homes, our liberties,
and our sacred religion. But, if all our anxiety amounts to is our so-called image, it’s
an image that needs to be displaced anyway, so that we can receive His image in our countenances. Let us consider meekness further. The meek are filled with awe and wonder with
regard to God and His purposes in the universe. At the same time, the meek are not awe-struck
by the many frustrations of life; they are more easily mobilized for eternal causes and
less easily immobilized by the disappointments of the day. Because they make fewer demands of life, the
meek are less easily disappointed. They are less concerned with their entitlements than
with their assignments. When we are truly meek, we are not concerned
with being pushed around but are grateful to be pushed along. When we are truly meek,
we do not engage in shoulder-shrugging acceptance but shoulder-squaring—in order that we might
better bear the burdens of life and others. Meekness can also help us in coping with the
injustices of life—of which there are quite a few. By the way, our experiences with mortal
injustices will generate within us even more adoration of the perfect justice of God—another
of His attributes. Besides, there can be dignity even in silence, as was the case when Jesus
meekly stood, unjustly accused, before Pilate. Silence can be an expression of strength.
Holding back and holding on can be signs of great personal discipline, especially when
everyone else is letting go. Furthermore, not only are the meek less easily
offended, but they are less likely to give offense to others. In contrast, there are
some in life who seem to be waiting to be offended. Their pride covers them like boils
which will inevitably be bumped. Meekness also cultivates in us a generosity
in viewing the mistakes and imperfections of others: Condemn me not because of mine imperfection,
neither my father, because of his imperfection . . . but rather give thanks unto God that
he hath made manifest unto you our imperfections, that ye may learn to be more wise than we
have been. Those of us who are too concerned about status
or being last in line or losing our place need to reread those words about how the “last
shall be first” and the “first shall be last.” Assertiveness is not automatically
bad, of course, but if we fully understood the motives which underlie some of our acts
of assertion, we would be embarrassed. Frankly, when others perceive such motivations, they
are sometimes embarrassed for us. Granted, the meek go on fewer ego trips, but
they have far greater adventures. Ego trips, those “travel now and pay later” indulgences,
are always detours. The straight and narrow path is the only path which takes us to new
and breathtaking places. Meekness means less concern over being taken
for granted and more concern over being taken by the hand. Less concern over revising our
own plans for us and more concern about adopting His plans for us are other sure signs of meekness. When you and I sing that Church hymn with
the words, “More used would I be,” one condition which keeps us from being “more
used” is our lack of meekness. Sometimes, too, brothers and sisters, in our prayers
we ask for the Lord to take the lead of our minds and hearts, but as soon as we say “Amen,”
we go unmeekly in our predetermined directions. Meekness does not mean tentativeness, but
thoughtfulness. Meekness makes room for others: “Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory;
but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better than themselves.” There are, brothers and sisters, ever so many human situations in which the only additional
time and recognition and space to be made available must come from the meek who will
yield—in order to make time and recognition and space available for others. There could
be no magnanimity without humility. Meekness is not a display of humility; it is the real
thing. True meekness is never proud of itself, never conscious of itself. It was said of one able, but comparatively
meek, member of a nineteenth-century British cabinet, serving in Parliament: If it was his duty to speak, he spoke, but
he did not want to speak when it was not his duty—silence was no pain and oratory no
pleasure to him. The meek think of more clever things to say
than are said. And it’s just as well, for there is so much more cleverness in the world
than wisdom, so much more sarcasm than idealism. It is quite understandable, brothers and sisters,
that we admire boldness and genius as we see these qualities convinced in some of the great
figures in history. A merciful God has let such individuals make their significant contributions
to humanity, such as in the political and economic realms. I cannot help but wonder,
however, what more God might have done with such individuals if they had been sufficiently
and consistently meek. I think, for instance, of the towering and
courageous Winston Churchill, admired in so many ways, including by me, but who had serious
difficulty containing his ego which sometimes tarnished his otherwise remarkable contributions.
One winces, even at this late date, as he reads Balfour’s rebuke, in 1905, of a pressing
and eager young Churchill in Parliament. Just after Winston had been excessive, Balfour
rose in dignity and said: As for the junior member of Oldham . . . I
think I may give him some advice which may be useful to him in the course of what I hope
may be a long and distinguished career. It is not, on the whole, desirable to come down
to this House with invective which is both prepared and violent. The House will tolerate,
and very rightly tolerate, almost anything within the rule of order which evidently springs
from genuine indignation aroused by the collision of debate. But to come down with these prepared
phrases is not usually successful, and at all events, I do not think it was very successful
on the present occasion. If there is preparation, there should be more finish, and if there
is so much violence, there should certainly be more veracity of feeling. I think, too, of the remarkable General of
the Army Douglas MacArthur whose place in history will also be rightfully generous.
His mistakes, too, usually occurred as a result of a lack of meekness; his bravery was, on
occasion, matched by his vanity. The brilliant and victorious sealord, Admiral Nelson, both
achieved and suffered similarly. I am not trying to fault these individuals,
for each has significantly added to the measure of freedom so many mortals have enjoyed. Rather,
I am suggesting how important to genuine and lasting greatness the virtue of meekness is,
for its absence constitutes a limitation—even upon those whom we judge to be great by worldly
criteria. Granted, we admire boldness and dash, but
boldness and dash can so easily slip into pomp and panache. By contrast, the meek are able with regularity
to peel off the encrustations of ego that form on one’s soul like barnacles on a ship.
They are thus able to avoid the abuse of authority and power—a tendency to which, the Lord
declared, “almost all” succumb. Except the meek. The meek use power and authority
properly, no doubt because their gentleness and meekness reflect a love unfeigned, a genuine
caring. Their influence is maintained only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness,
and by love unfeigned. How anxious we ought to be to emulate the
manner in which God wields power! And this in a world of push and shove and shout. If
we become too efficient at pushing, shoving, and shouting, then we are too adapted to this
world—too busy polishing skills which will ere-long become obsolete. Meekness rests on trust and courage. It is
reflected in Nephi’s meek acceptance of an assignment when he said, “I will go and
do,” without knowing beforehand all the implications of what he was undertaking. Meekness permits us to be confident, as was
Nephi, of that which we do know—even when we do not yet know the meaning of all other
things. Meekness constitutes a continuing invitation to continuing education. No wonder
the Lord reveals His secrets to the meek, for they are “easy to be entreated.” Not
only are the meek more teachable, but they continuously receive, with special appreciation,
“the engrafted word”, as the apostle James said—and, as Joseph Smith described it,
the pure flow of intelligence—all from the divine databank. If we are meek, we will also handle our critics
more wisely than did these predecessors: Now there was a strict law among the people
of the church, that there should not any man, belonging to the church, arise and persecute
those that did not belong to the church, and that there should be no persecution among
themselves. Nevertheless, there were many among them who
began to be proud, and began to contend warmly with their adversaries, even unto blows; yea,
they would smite one another with their fists. Meekness will permit us to endure more graciously
the cruel caricaturing and misrepresentation that accompany discipleship, especially in
the rugged last days of this dispensation. Remember the fingers of scorn in Lehi’s
vision which pointed and mocked at those who clung to the iron rod? The mockers were not
a small minority. And they were persistent and preoccupied in their scorn of the saints.
You will come to see that preoccupation. Meekness permits us to be prompted as to whether
to speak out or, as Jesus once did, be silent. But even when the meek speak up, they do so
without speaking down. I stress again that meekness does not mean
we are bereft of boldness. A meek, imprisoned Joseph Smith displayed remarkable boldness
in rebuking the grossness of the guards in Richmond jail: Silence, ye fiends of the infernal pit! In
the name of Jesus Christ I rebuke you and command you to be still; I will not live another
minute and hear such language. Cease such talk, or you or I die this instant! Isn’t it interesting, in a world wrongly
impressed with machismo, that we see more and more coarseness which is mistaken for
manliness, more and more selfishness masquerading as individuality? Meekness can make another very significant
contribution as it aids us in bearing up under our personal afflictions. Since the Lord has
said he will have a “tried people,” how can we possibly endure without meekness, the
factoring experiences of this mortal probation? Illustratively, I turn now to an excerpt from
President Brigham Young’s secretary’s journal for a choice insight brought to my
attention by Professor Ronald Esplin. When asked in conversation, “Why are men left
alone and often sad? Why is not God always at man’s side promoting universal happiness
at least for His Saints? Why does not God do everything for man?” President Young
responded concerning how man’s divine destiny requires individual experience and practice
in learning “to act as an independent being”—to see what we will do, whether we will be “for
God or not”—and in developing our own resources. Such experiences will teach us
to be “righteous in the dark—to be a friend of God.” This is a sobering and revealing
insight about God’s plans for us here, and it underlines with urgency the need for the
attribute of meekness, especially when one feels forsaken and forgotten and alone “amid
th’ encircling gloom.” In spite of all these advantages of meekness,
will the world mistake meekness, however, for something else? Yes. But we must not let
the world call the cadence for our march through life any more than we would let the world
set the direction of that march. Brothers and sisters, this mortal experience
through which we are passing is one in which beauties abound; subtleties and delicacies
are all about us, waiting to be noticed. Wonders are everywhere to be seen. It is, however,
the observing meek, who will contemplate the lilies of the field, will ponder the galaxies
and see God moving in His majesty and power. It is also the meek who will notice, and then
lift up, those whose hands hang down. Peter waxed poetic when he urged “the Ornament
of a meek and quiet spirit.” The meek and quiet spirit, which Peter recommended, is
essential to our happiness here and hereafter, men and women alike. Besides, even if our being meek results in
our being abused in this world, we need to remember that we are being fitted for chores
in another and better world—one which will be everlasting, not fleeting. Some may still say, however, “Does not meekness
invite abuse and dominance by the unmeek?” It may. But life’s experiences suggest that
sufficient unto every circumstance are the counterbalancing egos thereof; force tends
to produce counterforce. Please do not think of meekness, therefore,
in the stereotyped ways. You will see far more examples of those in desperate need of
meekness than you will ever see of the truly meek being abused. I do not say that the development of meekness
is easy. There are strivings and struggles and setbacks, inching forward when we would
prefer to run. Even when we make some progress, there is the sober realization that our very
best meekness is but a pale copy to Jesus’ meekness. But it is “a type and shadow of
things which are to come.” None of the divine virtues is easy to develop. But each is possible
and portable. None of them will ever be obsolete. Besides, what are the alternatives? Genius unmodified by meekness? History amply
attests that such is both a blessing and a curse! Expertise wrapped in overmuch ego?
It is so difficult to utilize. Boldness and swiftness unrestrained by gentleness? Such
traits are as likely to trample on people as to lift them! It is meekness, therefore, that helps us to
step gratefully forward to place on the altar the talents and time and self with which we
are blessed—to be at God and His children’s disposal. The offering is of a gentled self,
a self concerned with charity—not parity. Yes, there are real costs associated with
meekness. A significant down payment must be made. But it can come from our sufficient
supply of pride. We must also be willing to endure the subsequent erosion of unbecoming
ego. Furthermore, our hearts will be broken in order that they might be rebuilt. As Ezekiel
said, one’s task is to “make you a new heart and a new spirit.” There is no way
that such dismantling, such erosion, such rebuilding can occur without real cost in
pain, pride, adjustments, and even some dismay. Yet since we cannot be “acceptable before
God save [we are] meek and lowly in heart”, the reality of that awesome requirement must
be heeded. Better to save one’s soul than to save one’s face. I have spoken to you of this fundamental attribute
because you truly are a generation drenched in destiny. May it prove to be meekly drenched
in destiny. The attainment of your full possibilities will depend, as with all of us, on your developing
adequately the eternal and cardinal attributes, including meekness. God bless you and those like you the world
over. Depend, meekly, upon God, for each of you—in ways yet to be experienced—will
be depended upon by ever so many others. I love you; I bless you, in apostolic authority,
that you will not fail your individual rendezvous with those who await your touch and your ministry.
Do not fail them! Prepare yourself in meekness to serve them, and God will bless you. I so
bless you in that authority and in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
