In our Church history classes, we often talk
about the importanceâand blessingâof openness and candor. So, in a nod to that spirit of
openness, I feel compelled to admit candidly that when I first received this invitation
from vice president Matthew O. Richardsonâs office, I mulled it over for a day, and then
I wrote an apologetic email asking if there was any way that I could be excused at this
time. A couple of things factored into my sense
that I just did not want to give a devotional right now. First, I have always sort of dreamed
that my debut on BYUtv would be a guest cameo on Studio C, and I just was not ready to give
up on my dream! If any of you know me, and if any of you know Studio C, you know that
my whole life would be a treasure trove of material for new âAwkward Avoidance Vikingâ
sketches. Secondâand this held only slightly more sway in my decision-Âmaking processâI
just did not know what I would say at the devotional. And that really weighed on me.
I thought about all of the past devotionals that have been so memorable. I could start
running through a list right here of BYU devotionals that still stick with me. Plus, I rationalized
that the intervening weeks might be too busy to put in the preparation time that this deserved.
I cared too much about BYU devotionals to get this wrong! Vice President Richardson
sent back a very gracious and understanding email agreeing to let me off the hook, and
I felt no guilt. The next morning though, a new thought wiggled
its way into my consciousness. It was one of those inner-dialogue momentsâthose moments
that, somehow, we can just sense originate outside of ourselves. Here is how I would
express that new thought: âAre you really going to tell me that you are going to pass
up the chance to put in the time to think about something, wrestle with something, and
learn something just because you know it is going to require work and focus? Why would
you pass up on the chance to learn something that you need to learn, to put in the work
so that you can put down onto paper things that now might only be swimming around vaguely
in your head?â And then there came to me a quote by Francis Bacon that a former professor
of mine was wont to repeat: âWriting [makes] an exact man.â Somehow I just knew that
I needed to learn something with more exactness and with more precision through the exercise
of writing it down. My guess is that many of you, at the end of
our time together, might wish that the lesson I had learned was to leave well enough alone
when we receive gracious and understanding emails letting us off the hook when we have
nothing to say. But I was no longer in a place in which I felt like I could do that. The
truth of the situation had been laid bare, and I knew that I should do this. But I still did not know what I was going
to say. I just could not shake the feeling of how good past devotionals have been or
the feeling of wondering if I could measure up. This might be my one shot, I thoughtâon
the off chance, of course, that the Studio C thing does not pan out. What would people
think? What if the best thing my family members could say to me afterward would be, âHey,
I loved how the BYUtv makeup artist did a good job of making your eyebrows look smallerâ?
How would my devotional talk compare in the field of BYU devotional talks? And, in a flash
of recognition, I was suddenly pulled up short. There it was. That was it. I needed to spend
some time wrestling to the ground this vexatious tendency to compare. This tendency to compare is something that
I think about all the time because I do it all the time. But even that statement is a
bit misleading. Saying, âI do it all the time,â is like saying, âI breathe all
the time.â It just happens without me thinking about it. It can almost feel Âreflexiveâalmost
natural. And that is the point. That is why it is so vexatious. We know from Mosiah 3
that when we are left to our ânaturalâ state, we struggle to â[yield] to the enticings
of the Holy Spirit.â We are not where God wants us to be, and we are not what He knows
we can be. We are in opposition to Him, at cross-purposes to His plan. But also, because
these comparisons seem to happen so naturally, I hope that we all feel like fellow travelers
on this road. So what would the Holy Spirit entice us to
do? Where can we yield on this? First, we need to identify the problem. Let
me outline it by revealing how I used to envision the scriptural narrative in Doctrine and Covenants
7, with some admitted literary license. This section adds important detail to the account
in John 21 and retells how John expressed his heartfelt wish to have âpower over death,
that [he could] live and bring souls unto [Christ]â until Jesus comes again. We learn
in section 7 of the Doctrine and Covenants that Peter, on the other hand, had desired
that he might âspeedily come unto [the Lord] in [His] kingdom.â Here is how I have imagined this scenario
playing out. This is my mental screenplay of the scriptural story. Peter approaches
the Savior a bit hesitantly and quietly asks, âWhat was Johnâs heartfelt wish?â Peter
learns that John desired to stay on the earth until the Second Coming to preach the gospel.
I can see Peter keeping a forced smile and saying, âWow. That is wonderful.â But
in his mind he is really thinking, âAhhh! I am so dumb! Why didnât I ask for that?
Why didnât I even think of that? John is so much more righteous than I am! Not to mention
he is a faster runner than I am! Why do I always have to be so impetuous and jump in
first on everything?â In this reading, one might assume that Doctrine
and Covenants 7:5 would read like this: âI say unto thee, Peter, [your desire to come
speedily into my kingdom] was a good desire; but my beloved [John] has desired that he
might do more, or a greater work yet among men than what [you have done, thou slacker].â
I can still remember where I was, however, when I realized that of course the verse did
not read that way. Here is how it really reads: âI say unto thee, Peter, this was a good
desire; but my beloved has desired that he might do more, or a greater work yet among
men than what he has before done.â I feel this with the force of truth: our perfect,
loving God makes no horizontal comparisons. In this verse Jesus only compared John with
Johnâs former selfâJohn with old John. He only compared Peter with old Peter, with
former Peter. And He only compares me with old me. Here is a more contemporary example from President
Boyd K. Packerâs time as a mission president: I needed a new assistant and had prayed much
about the matter. I then called zone conferences, where I met and interviewed every missionary,
always with the thought in my mind, âIs this the man?â The answer finally came:
âThis is the man.â He was appointed. He had been permitted to come on a mission only
after some considerable shaping up to become eligible. After the announcement one of the zone leaders
came to see me privately. He came from the same community in the West as did the new
assistant. He was obviously disturbed. His first question was, âDo you really know
the elder you have appointed as your assistant?â âYes, Elder. I know all that you know about
him, and a good deal more,â was my answer. âWhy, then, was he appointed your assistant?â I pondered for a moment and then said, âElder,
why donât you ask the question that you came to ask?â âWhat do you mean?â âAsk the question that is really on your
mind,â I encouraged. âBut I did,â he said. âNo,â I said. âThere is another question.
The thing that is on your mind is not âWhy did you appoint him as your assistantâ;
it is âWhy did you not appoint me?ââ Now please understand. I thought his unexpressed
question to be a very logical and sensible one. . . . . . . I had sympathy for this young man and
admired him greatly for his courage to speak. âIf you should ask why you were not chosen,â
I said, âI would have to answer, âI do not know, Elder.â I only know that he was
chosen. Perhaps he may fail. But at least I know he is the one with the combination
of talents and ability and qualities best calculated to get done what the office needs
at the moment. âThis is no reflection upon you. You may
yet preside over him and many above him. You may be his bishop or his stake president.
You may preside over the Church. I do not know. But his call is no reflection upon you.
Do not be injured by it. âGo back to work and serve the Lord. Sustain
him,â I counseled. âYour contest is not with him but with yourself.â I need to read that golden line again: Or, put another way, here is Elder Jeffrey
R. Holland on this: These are such important statements. They
are the type of statements that I want emblazoned on my mind, that I want written on the âfleshy
tables of [my] heart.â Just repeating a sentence like âyour contest is not with
him but with yourselfâ or âthe race is against sin, not against each otherâ feels
like verbal aloe vera on our sunburned souls. It soothes, it cools, and we feel tense muscles
relax. We know all about this, donât we? We feel
these truths deeply. But if we know these truths, if they make us feel so settled, then
why is it so hard to remember them once we leave the safe confines of a BYU devotional
or the reassuring embraces of our wise mothers or fathers or siblings or friends who have
just reminded us of these truths? Why is it still so hard? And what do we do? If it is like breathing, what do we do? What can we do? Well, for one thing, we can be mindful. One
aspect of mindfulness (and this is certainly from my noviceâs perspective of mindfulness)
is to pay attention to your breathingâand good things happen. So, first, letâs draw
attention to our tendency to compare. Be mindful of it, think about it, and sit with it. And
here are some things we notice. Mortality and modernity seem to be especially
well designed to give us the âcustomized curriculumâ (Elder Neal A. Maxwellâs wonderful
phrase) that we need to confront our tendency to compare. And as we confront this, we sense
that comparing can lead to all kinds of trouble. On the one hand, it can breed arrogance. It
can breed conceit. It can breed disdain and contempt (thinking of the profound things
that Arthur C. Brooks said at commencement two weeks ago). It can breed self-satisfaction
and complacency and apathy. On the other hand, it can breed despair. It can breed hopelessness.
It can breed feelings of worthlessness and shame. It is a pretty potent instrument for
sin and misery, I would say! Chapter 6 of 3 Nephi presents a situation in which Satanâs
success in getting those Saints to be puffed up in comparisons and in ranks and in distinctions
meant that âthe church began to be broken upâ! No wonder that Alma said that he sinned in
his wish to be an angel. I have always thought that was a bit of poetic hyperbole on Almaâs
part. After all, who could fault a desire to have the voice of an angel to âcry repentance
unto every peopleâ? But maybe he was on to something. Maybe he understood deeply that
comparisonsâwhich then can fuel envying and coveting or self-loathing and the paralysis
of inactionâcan really be just that debilitating. They can keep us from playing the vital role
that has been âallotted unto [us],â and so Alma needed to call it like he saw it:
he was sinning in his wish. Canât we just hear echoes of President Ezra
Taft Bensonâs classic discourse on pride, which is always worthy of a reread? President
Benson said, Letâs pause for a dose of reality here.
I can imagine my own reaction to all of this if I were sitting in this audience. I can
hear myself thinking: âWell, thank you very much. Now not only do I feel badly about myself
because of all these comparisons with everyone around me, I feel even worse because of the
realization that I am sinning when I make these comparisons. That is just super. I wish
I had just stayed in bed today.â If any of this is coming across in that way, I get
that. But I think that another way to look at this would be to see it as empowering.
We can take Nephiâs approach. We can say, âAwake, my soul! No longer droop in sin,â
and âWhy should I give way to temptations, that the evil one have place in my heart to
destroy my peace and afflict my soul?â We can notice how false these comparisons
most often areâthat is, that they are often based on falsehoods and on faulty premises,
both of Âothersâ making and of our own making. That is worth noting, worth confronting,
and worth Âconstantly reminding ourselves. Korihorâs exchange with Alma rightfully
gets a lot of attention in Church lessons and discourses. Alma 30 is a rich and layered
chapter. But I think that one of Korihorâs assertions does not get enough attention for
just how demonstrably false it is. Here is how that assertion is reported in Alma 30:17.
Korihor asserted that âevery man prospered according to his genius, and that every man
conquered according to his strength.â That assertion is simply not true, and when we
are honest with ourselves, we know it is not true. What I mean is that no one can legitimately
say, in the ultimate sense, âI prospered because of my genius,â or âI conquered
because of my strength.â We know that, in reality, so many variables are involved. Where
we are born, when we are born, our race, our gender, the schools available to us, the education
level of our parents, genetic markers like height and muscle mass, the timing of our
application and the pool of applicants for a program or a jobâthere are so many things
that are out of our control. All of these factors impact the degree to which we even
have the opportunity to âprosperâ or âconquer.â There have been many geniuses who have not
had equal opportunity to prosper and many strong men and women who have not had equal
opportunity to conquer. And for that matter, what does âprosperingâ or âconqueringâ
even definitively look like? We have to be careful here. This does not
mean that we simply acquiesce to biological determinism or circumstantial determinism,
nor wallow in defeatism. Agency is a reality and an incomparable endowment. But can we
see why comparisons just are not fairâto us or to others? There are too many variables
involved. That is why degree of difficulty matters in Olympic divingâand in life, as
Elder Maxwell would remind us. All of this is to say that we should certainly
be more compassionate with everyone because we do not know what burdens they are carrying
or what life loads are weighing them down. And we should certainly be more humble when
we succeed. Is it any wonder that King Benjamin asked, âCan ye say aught of yourselves?
I answer you, Nay.â I wonder how many doors have been opened in my life because I grew
up in Hooper, Utah. I can take no credit for the golden ticket of being from that beautiful
beachfront town on the shores of the Great Salt Lake. We really must acknowledge that privilege
is real. Prejudice is real. Injustice is real. Remember that Korihor was anti-Christ. The
demonstrably false statement that we prosper according to our genius seems to be another
way of denying that we need Christâor that we need anyone. Think of the punchline of
Ephesians 2:8â9. We need to be reminded that it is âby graceâ we are saved. It
is the gift of God, lest any of us âshould boastâ! On the beautiful flip side, then, we can trust
that the Lordâs grace is sufficient to ultimately right every injustice, to make up for every
loss, and to make weak things become strong. When we come face to face with our weakness,
Ether 12:27 is a good place to turn. We are reminded that the Lord gives unto men and
women âweakness that they may be humble.â Not weaknesses but weakness. Weakness. A shared,
universal condition: mortality. Mortality makes us humbleâagain and again and again.
And I might submit that this tendency to compare is part of mortality and that it is universalâto
lesser and greater degrees, of course. When we are humbled by that recognition, we can
trust that through the Lordâs all-sufficient grace, weak things can become strong. And that is ultimately the only place we can
turn, âthe only nameâ by which âsalvation [can] come.â I realize, again and again,
that I cannot overcome this on my own. I realize, again and again, that I do not have to. What Elder Ronald A. Rasband reminded religious
educators three months ago is the same message that has been weighing on my heart, and I
feel inadequate to deliver it with the forcefulness that it deserves. Elder Rasband titled his
talk âJesus Christ Is the Answer.â This is the message we all need to hear. In this
human dilemma, Jesus is the answer: His teachings, His example, and His power to effect a change
of heartâa lasting, Âsaving change of heartâin each of us. Letâs consider a thought or two about the
teachings of Jesus Christ. When we find ourselves worried about how we measure up as we compare
ourselves with everyone around us, and when we are worried about what others think of
us, at least we are in good company! I am so grateful that the gospel writers were honest
enough (even, in some cases, honest enough about themselves!) to include passages that
show that Jesusâs apostles struggled over this, even squabbled over this. When they
asked, âWho is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?â (perhaps the champion of all
comparison-motivated questions!) âJesus called a little child unto him . . . and said
. . . whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest
in the kingdom of heaven.â This of course starts cross-references popping
up in our minds. We remember that one of the ways that King Benjamin recommended that we
overcome our natural man or natural woman state is to become as a little child. I have four wonderful childrenâParley, Marshall,
Truman, and Ashleyâand I have learned so many lessons from them. An image that is as
vivid in my mind today as it was when it happened a dozen years ago is a backyard game of catch
with my two oldest boys, Parley and Marshall. Parley was five or six years old; Marshall
was probably three. I would throw the football to each of them in turn. Parley was catching
the football almost every time. Marshall, not so much. I can see Marshall concentrating, watching
the ballâand then missing it every time. No matter how I threw the ball, it seemed
like it always hit him on the head as it went right through his hands, which were closing
for the ball just one beat too early or too late. Luckily it was a really soft, inflatable
football. But here is the thing I will never forget: Marshall cheered, jumped up and down,
and squealed in delight every time Parley caught it. I can still hear his little voice
yelling, âGood catch, Par!â or âThat was great, Par!â And then he would miss
the next throw that came to him. But somehow that did not dampen his enthusiasm for Parleyâs
success. Somehow he knew that his contest was not with Parley. He could have joy in
Parleyâs success. How do we recapture that sense of childlike celebration for the good
fortune of others? I think we recapture that sense by thinking
less about ourselves. That statement calls for so many qualifications. We all have to
be on the lookout for the ways that a sincere desire for selflessness can, in some terrible
situations, be manipulated into codependency or victimization. Please know that if we see
this happening to others around us or to ourselves, we are never called to self-abnegation that
harms our mental or physical or emotional well-being. Some of the best things we can
do for ourselves or others is to stop abuse of this kind. Remember that Jesus said that
we must cut off hands or eyes that offend us, and the Joseph Smith Translation makes
clear that this cutting off might include so-called friends and family and those we
have trusted who are leading us down pernicious paths. These are situations that cannot be
ignored. But with that important caveat always in our
minds, here is how President Dieter F. Uchtdorf captured what the right kind of selflessness
looks like, in the best sense: When we see the world around us through the
lens of the pure love of Christ, we begin to understand humility. Some suppose that humility is about beating
ourselves up. Humility does not mean convincing ourselves that we are worthless, meaningless,
or of little value. Nor does it mean denying or withholding the talents God has given us. Here is how C. S. Lewis said this: Do not imagine that if you meet a really humble
man he will be what most people call âhumbleâ nowadays: he will not be a . . . person . . . who
is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody. Probably all you will think about
him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you
said to him. . . . Doesnât this description just fit with the
image of the Son of God kneeling before weary and confused disciples and washing their feet?
Isnât this Jesusâwhile on the crossâassigning the duties of a son to John because of Jesusâs
concern for His heartbroken mother? This is Jesus, choosing to be a guest at a publicanâs
house without worrying about the way that His reputation might be harmed in the eyes
of murmurers. This is Jesus, immune to the criticisms of people who, if they had lived
in todayâs world, would be making their same sniping judgments in the comment sections
of social media posts. This is Jesus, sincerely and wholeheartedly deflecting praise and glorifying
His Father. And on and on and on. A brief anecdote from Sister Susan W. Tanner
captures this as beautifully as almost anything I have ever heard. She was serving as the
general president of the Churchâs Young Women organization when she related this in
an October 2005 general conference talk: I remember well the insecurities I felt as
a teenager with a bad case of acne. I tried to care for my skin properly. My parents helped
me get medical attention. For years I even went without eating chocolate and all the
greasy fast foods around which teens often socialize, but with no obvious healing consequences.
It was difficult for me at that time to fully appreciate this body which was giving me so
much grief. But my good mother taught me a higher law. Over and over she said to me,
âYou must do everything you can to make your appearance pleasing, but That is it. In a beautiful nutshell, that
is it. Think of all of the questions that bombard
us on a daily basis: Did I get picked for a leadership position on my mission? Did I
score more points than my rival in the basketball game? Did I get the highest score on the test
in my class? Was I the one student from BYU who landed the internship? Did I play more
flawlessly in my audition than did everyone else? Did my witty comment in Sunday School
make more people laugh than my roommateâs comment did? If I glance over at the treadmill
next to mine, will I find that I am running at a faster pace? And on and on and on. These
constantly nipping questions are all about me, me, me. And it is exhausting. Doesnât it sound freeing and liberating
to think less about ourselves? To not be thinking about ourselves at all? And to do that effortlessly,
as naturally as breathing, because it is just who we are? As if the armor of God that we
put on is coated in Teflon, so that none of thisânot flattery, not worry about where
we measure up, and not insecurities fueled by the lack of retweetsâcan even possibly
stick to us? Jesus is the answer: His teachings, His example,
and especially His power to effect this change in our hearts. I am so thankful for Moroni
7:48: Wherefore, my beloved brethren, pray unto
the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love, which he
hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ; that ye may become
the sons of God; that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him
as he is; that we may have this hope; that we may be purified even as he is pure. Amen. Amen, indeed! When we pray with all the energy of heart
and strive to be true followers of Jesus Christ, this pure love of Christ is bestowed on us.
It fills us. This matters so much in this specific area of our âstrivings withinâ
(isnât that a fitting phrase from the hymn âMore Holiness Give Meâ?) because charity
renders powerless this temptation to compare. That is because, when filled with charity
that âseeketh not her own,â we are purified even as Jesus is pure. One area in which we need that purifying power
is in our motives. President Benson wisely said about pride that it is in âour motives
for the things we do . . . where the sin is manifest.â I have heard historian Richard Lyman Bushman
say this so forcefully. When our motives are pure, when we act out of a pure heart, and
when our only intent is to bless others, prideful comparisons are defanged. They have no bearing
in our thinking. When we are filled with charity, we will be like the Savior. Why was being
pure so natural for Him? Because, simply, He knew who He was and He knows you and He
knows me. He truly knows us, truly sees who we are. That changes everything. If we ask
ourselves whether or not Jesus compared Himself to those around Him or took comfort in where
He stood âon the ladders of . . . successâ and in who was beneath Him, the question becomes
instantly ridiculous. We remember that this is the Savior who aims to make usâin the
language of Doctrine and Covenants 88ââequal with himâ! There is no jealousy, no competition.
If the temptation to compare reared its head, He âgave no heedâ to it. And we can be
like Him. The truth is, we are going to walk out of
this room and right back into the pressure cooker. Universities, the job market, social
media (oh, social media!), and even Church basketball are all set up systemically, almost
intrinsically, to force comparisons upon us. But that does not mean that we have to give
heed! A few years ago, after we had read in class
excerpts from President Bensonâs talk on pride, including some of the passages we have
read here about competition and comparison, a student asked, âThen how I am even supposed
to play sports?â Admittedly, I did not have any easy answers then, and I do not have any
easy answers now. It is tough. But I do say that we should not shy away from these crucibles
of comparison in which our character is forged and in which we can really practice what we
are talking about here. We can play sports and feel the thrill of
our muscles stretching and responding as we are learning new skills and putting into action
things that we have practiced; our contest can be just with ourselves, and we can honestly
celebrate the successes of others. We can take our exams in school without worrying
about how our grades compare to those of others. Instead, we can measure ourselves against
only ourselves and feel the thrill of calling on new knowledge to solve new problems. (Okay,
I admit that I might be waxing a bit too poetic about the thrill of celebrating new knowledge
when we have to take school exams, but you catch my drift.) We can play musical pieces,
paint paintings, write stories, and join in the joy that these expressions of talents
and hard work will bring to others. Think of how Jesus freely used His talents
and gifts to bless others, over and over and over. This is not about hiding under a bushel;
this is about not worrying how brightly our light shines in comparison with the person
right next to us. This is about having pure motivesâbeing purified even as He is pure.
After all, Jesus is the very light that we want to âhold upâ! And do we ever need
this light! Does the world ever need this light! Why? Because we come to realize that
everyone, to some degree or another, feels these insecurities. It is so vital that we
reach to lift others because everyone feels the weight of this trying to pull them down.
There is even a syndrome to describe this weight: impostor syndrome. It is this nagging
sense that no matter what you have accomplished, sooner or later someone will discover that
you simply are not good enough, that you do not belong, and that your qualifications really
are a sham. In a world in which that weight drags on everyone, we need people who respond
to President Bensonâs call to â[conquer] enmity toward our brothers and sisters, [esteem]
them as ourselves, and [lift] them as high or higher than we are.â This whole endeavor is rife with paradoxes,
but, as Terryl L. Givens has so aptly put it, as disciples of Christ, we are a âpeople
of paradoxâ! These very tensions can be so productive. The best way to remember that
our contests are only with ourselves is to think less about ourselves. The best way to
stop comparing ourselves with others is to think more of others! When we donât find
easy answers, it is my hope and my prayer that the Spirit will teach us of these âpeaceable
things of the kingdom,â even when they are hard for us to articulate. There is no question that you and I are going
to fail at many things we attempt to do, and in the eyes of those making comparisons, we
all are repeatedly going to fall short. There is always a bigger fish, so to speak. You
are going to get emails or voicemails or text messagesâmaybe even this very dayânotifying
you that someone else was hired for a job, that someone else was picked for the team,
that someone is not interested in a second date, that someone else has been called as
Relief Society president, and so on. But do not take that as a mark of your worth. Disappointments
do sting, but they can also be wonderfully, albeit painfully, formative. All things really
can âwork together for [the] good [of] them that love God.â But do not let the temptation
to compare give these disappointments destructive power. These comparisons are counterfeits;
they do notâcannotâadequately measure what really matters. When disappointments
hit, we take a deep breath; we remember what really matters. I remember being very struck the first time
I heard someone quote what President David O. McKay said about imagining our future interview
with the Lord. Elder Robert D. Hales quoted this in a BYU devotional in 1988. The focus
of President McKayâs hypothetical interview was the quality of our relationships, with
special attention on individuals in our immediate families. Pointedly, deliberately, President
McKay stressed that the Lord will not ask about our professions, only our integrity.
He will not ask for our rĂŠsumĂŠ of Church callings, only our interest in ministering
to others. These are the things that really matter. C. S. Lewis once proposed, I would submit that this includes becoming the sort of people
who slough off the tendency to compare just like water off the proverbial duckâs back.
Like Lehi in his dream, we pay no heed to those siren voices or those âfinger[s] of
scorn.â So, with all of this said, in our quest to
become people of a particular sort, how do we evaluate how we are doing? Well, not by
comparing! This is another of those paradoxes. If we are not careful, we might fall into
the trap that is waiting for us just around the corner. Canât you just hear yourself
saying, âI am doing so well at this not-comparing thing. I bet I compare myself to others way
less than my roommate does.â And here we go again. One thing we all need is something
that Elder Maxwell recommended in another classic, must-read address titled âNotwithstanding
My Weakness.â Here is one of his recommendations to help âmanageâ what he called âthese
vexing feelings of inadequacyâ: We can make quiet but more honest inventories
of our strengths, since, in this connection, most of us are dishonest bookkeepers and need
confirming âoutside auditors.â I have to pause here to acknowledge deep,
personal gratitude for so many âoutside auditorsâ in my life, especially my wife
and my mother, who personify all that we have talked about today and who just are this way!
We can be those all-Âimportant outside auditors that others need. I am also confident that President Benson
would say to us, just as he did in 1989: We must be careful, as we seek to become more
and more godlike, that we do not become discouraged and lose hope. Becoming Christlike is a lifetime
pursuit and very often involves growth and change that is slow, almost imperceptible. In âtiny, dailyâ ways, then, we practice.
We purify our motives. We pray with all the energy of heart for the Lord to fill us with
the love and grace that make our practice and our purifying Âefficaciousâuntil this
all feels as natural and as effortless as breathing, as the love between parents and
children, and as the love between siblings or lifelong friends. And lastly, we combat falsehood with truth:
We see Korihorâs lie, and we raise it with a truth about the celestial kingdom, the kingdom
in which we will âsee as [we] are seen, and know as [we] are known.â Could we pray
for clearer glimpses of that in the here and now? Could we pray more to see others that
way? Could our prayers and our comparisons stay riveted on how we are becoming ânew
creature[s]â in Christ, on how far His grace has taken us and can yet take us from our
old selves? Here is one last story. I love this story
as much as any story that has ever appeared in the New Era. It is called âThe Visitor,â
by Ken Merrell, from the May 2000 issue. When I was 18, as I was preparing to serve
a mission, my bishop called me to teach the Sunbeams. . . . One day I invited Mike to come to church and
sit in my class. Mike was my age but had stopped attending church completely by the time he
was 12. We had remained friends over the years. . . . Once in a while Mike would accept my
invitations to come to an activity. It always surprised me when he did, so I kept Âinviting
him. At that time, Mike had long, black hair and
a beard. . . . I donât remember when I invited him to my Primary class, but one day he showed
up. âClass, I would like to introduce you to
my friend Mike,â is how I began my lesson. âHe is visiting us today.â Mike sat next to me in front. The children
sat in a semicircle with their eyes fixed on him. They were much quieter than usual.
I was about five or six minutes into the lesson when one little boy got up from his chair
and walked across the room and stood directly in front of my friend. . . . . . . The other children watched the two of
them for a few minutes. . . . Then it happened. . . . With the innocence of a child, [the boy] said
to Mike, âAre you Jesus?â The look on Mikeâs face was total surprise.
It seemed, as I glanced at the childrenâs faces, they all had the same question on their
minds. Mike looked at me as if to say, Help, what
do I say? I stepped in. âNo, this is not Jesus. This
is His brother.â Mike looked at me as if in shock. Then without hesitation the boy . . . reached
up and wrapped his arms around Mikeâs neck. âI can tell,â the boy said as he hugged
Mike. The author ends the story by saying that just
over a year later, Mike was serving as a missionary. My guess is that he was reminded of something
that day that he had not thought about for a very, very long time. So, I say this to you and I say this to me:
Letâs all find a mirror. Letâs look at ourselves. Letâs see as we are seen. Letâs
repeat, âMy contest is not with anyone else; my contest is with myself. The race is against
sin, not against each other.â Then we must pray with all the energy of heart to be filled
with the pure love of Christ, of Him who is âthe author and finisher of our faith.â
We must refuse to let lies âinterrupt [our] rejoicingsâ over the truths that are deeper
and more convincing than the falsehoods of comparisons. And then we must walk out the
door, forget ourselves, and start concentrating on others. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
I do really love that part with John and Paul. I've thought a lot about that story before this. What I always focused on was that Christ knew what Peter would ask for and He was ok with it because He knew that is what Peter wanted and needed to do. He didn't scold Peter, He didn't compare Him, because He knew this was what was good for HIM, and what John received was what was good for John. That helped me to really see we are all different, and He gives us all different trials, flaws, and blessings because that is what is necessary for us to learn and fulfill our missions best.
The race is against sin, not others, that is such a good point. I've heard variations of that, but it's so true! We always treat each other as the comparison, as the other contestants, when really we are all together to beat sin. I'm a big pokemon fan, it reminds me of that. In the game you have a team of 6 pokemon and your goal is to become the champion by beating the other trainers. Which yeah you could argue is beating other people, but that isn't my point hahaha what I was thinking was each of those 6 pokemon has their strengths and weaknesses. The fire pokemon is good against ice pokemon, but bad against water. The water is bad against electricity, but good against ground. And so on. Each member is essential in getting the job done, in making it to the end goal. We are all those pokemon, we each have strengths and weaknesses, and our goal is to work together to defeat sin. Idk maybe I'm making it a trillion times more complicated, it makes sense to me lol
woooahh that CS Lewis quote was intense. I had to pause and just think about that lol Is my jealousy purely comparison based? All these things I feel inadequate about, it is truly just because I want to feel better than someone else, even if it's my old self, to feel better and have pride over others? That sucks. I need to fix that for sure...interesting to ponder. If you do take away others, it truly releases those desires for me. Like, I've mentioned it many times here but I have body dysmorphia and penis size anxiety, but if I image all other men as having 3" penises, all my desire for having a bigger penis disappears. If that were the case I would be bigger than everyone else, but what would that get me? Nothing. I wouldn't be better than anyone else, I wouldn't have more value, I wouldn't be happier, and honestly I would probably start wishing to be smaller so I can fit in hahaha Dang that's interesting...
I loved that story of his two sons. I like to think I am like his son Marshall, I might keep missing that football, but I genuinely love others and want them to succeed. I need to learn to show myself that same kindness though.
I was disappointed with his answer to the boy who asked how he can play sports. There's a difference between being in competition for fun vs competition for pride. There's a difference between competition and comparison. I think it's ok to try hard in a game, to want to beat the other team, to get to the top of the roster and be the champs, but does that mean you hold more value or are better than those that lost? No, it means maybe you had more skill in those moments, or maybe you got lucky, or they got unlucky. There's many factors as he mentioned earlier. It's ok to push ourselves and want to be top tier, but are we doing it for the right reasons? That's what we need to ask ourselves. That would be my answer to him, and maybe I'm wrong, it makes sense to me though.
That's an excellent point about our interview with Christ. I think about that often. I'm a weeper, so I'm pretty sure I'm just going to be crying at his feet for days lol But no I do think that's so important to remember. He won't care what size my penis is, or how tall I am, or what clothes I'm wearing, what job I had, how much money is in my bank account, how many vacations I took, or even how many days clean from pmo I am. What He cares about is what's in my heart. Did I try? Did I love? Did I pray? Did I have faith? That's what matters.
Oh yay, I'm glad he mentioned the outside auditors. So many of us cannot see ourselves clearly, and we have a false image in our heads. That is why it's so important for us to support one another, to help each other with the truth, when it's bad (so they may improve) and when it's good.
I'm pretty sure my comment is longer than the talk lol sorry, I'm a talker. I REALLY enjoyed that though, it was very powerful and amazing words, I believe it all. Thanks for sharing this!
Just reading the title, this is a talk for me! lol