Thursday, August 13, 2020
Monday, August 03, 2020
Monday, June 01, 2020
Resiliency - The Gift That Keeps on Giving All Their Lives
by Barbara Smith, Director, Utah Family Partnership Network
We all know someone who is resilient; who seems to be able
to face obstacles and bounce back time after time. It is easy to assume that
they were just born with the resiliency gene. Not so. Resiliency is a skill, a
way of thinking, a way of doing that can be taught. Resilience is the ability
to overcome difficult experiences and be shaped for the better by them. There
are very strategic actions parent can take to increase their children’s
resiliency.
Don’t jump in and rescue your child from a challenge or
struggle. Act as a guide on the side and let them know you understand it
is hard, but you know they can figure it out. Encourage them to push forward.
This is critical to helping build resiliency. It lets your child know you
believe in them. Every time they make it through, they have learned they can
struggle through things and succeed.
Let your child experience disappointment. Not everyone
gets picked to be the lead in the school play. It is tempting to jump in and
call the teacher or whomever you think can save your child. But the fact is not
everyone wins. We all must face disappointment, but to help your children learn
to cope with it now will teach them they can make it through in the future.
Often being denied one opportunity opens the doors to other possibilities.
Don’t let your child play the Blame Game. You
know the one. It is always someone else’s fault they didn’t make the home run,
or they didn’t finish the assignment. Life isn’t always fair, but your children
need to recognize their mistakes, own them and then fix them. (As parents we
need to do the same). Don’t let your children become victims. Let them be the
captains of their ships!
Help your child to label their feelings. If they can
say they are mad they probably won’t hit their sibling. You can empathize with
their feelings and ask them what they can do about it. Whether they are sad,
lonely, frustrated, naming the feeling helps get it out in the open so they can
face it and decide how to move on.
Celebrate the effort not the outcome. If the only time
a child gets positive feedback is if they get an A or win first place, they
will do anything to get those-even if it means cheating. Resiliency is nurtured
by cheering the effort. What a gift to give your child, to be able to enjoy and
be appreciated for the journey.
Resiliency can be learned. Life is full of opportunities for
these lessons to be taught. Be intentional about helping your children learn
how strong they really are and how proud you are of them for not giving up.
Catch them struggling with hard things and encourage them to keep trying.
Teaching resiliency now is one of the greatest tools you can give your children
to help them navigate all the ups and downs they will face in their future and
help them believe in themselves.
Friday, April 03, 2020
My Testimony
I believe in the existence and power of God. He is our loving Heavenly Father. He has power that exceeds everything. He wants to us to grow and improve.
He and His Son Jesus Christ created this world, a place where we could gain experience and have freedom of choice to grow. He sends messengers -- prophets -- to teach us.
In these days, He called Joseph Smith and subsequent prophets to re-establish His Son's church, replete with the teachings we need in order to grow.
It is ours to choose how we will accept their teachings (scriptures, General Conference). As we accept and apply their teachings with faith, we will grow and come nearer to God.
Another part of applying the prophets' teachings includes repentance -- an acknowledgement and voluntary abandonment of our mistakes (sins) so that we can improve. As we abandon our mistakes, and submit our will to His, the power of Jesus Christ's atoning sacrifice serves as a bridge between our inadequacy and a loving but just Heavenly Father. This joyous journey brings us forgiveness and peace, and back to God.
Wednesday, March 04, 2020
Thursday, February 20, 2020
Both Feet Forward - Scott Swofford
Great article.
My father was a builder of big buildings, some well known. So when I returned from my two-year mission to Japan and wanted summer work, I ended up forty feet down at the bottom of an air conditioning shaft, stripping forms from freshly poured concrete. My captive coworker, Chuck, made the mistake of asking why I would “waste two valuable years like that.” I am sure he had no idea what he was in for, and I unleashed my abundance of missionary zeal.
At some point in our discussion I heard a noise overhead and saw the familiar silhouette of my father leaning over the shaft. What he said was a surprise: “Chuck, I don’t know what he’s saying down there, but I believe it is true. Now get back to work.”
This is for me the most treasured testimony my father bore, but I hope we can surpass that level of communication today. I don’t want you to go back to class thinking, “I don’t know what he was saying down there, but I believe it is true.” Instead I want to persuade you to rethink the way you communicate to others your feelings about your connections to heaven and the amazing blessings of what you know and what you feel.
Why persuade? Because “no power or influence can or ought to be maintained by virtue of the priesthood”—and I hold no position that grants me that kind of dominion over you anyway—“only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned” (D&C 121:41). I want to persuade you to consider another perspective that will help you follow the counsel of an apostle.
Elder David A. Bednar stood here in August and asked us “to sweep the earth as with a flood of truth and righteousness” in our online efforts (“To Sweep the Earth as with a Flood,” BYU Education Week devotional address, 19 August 2014, lds.org/prophets-and-apostles/unto-all-the-world/to-sweep-the-earth-as-with-a-flood). His devotional was historic in many ways. I was so delighted.
Elder Bednar’s first qualification for this effort was simple:
We are disciples, and our messages should be authentic. A person or product that is not authentic is false, fake, and fraudulent. Our messages should be truthful, honest, and accurate. We should not exaggerate, embellish, or pretend to be someone or something we are not. [“To Sweep the Earth”]
Following his counsel to be authentic will be more difficult for us, as central-culture Mormons, because for decades we have desired to honor the Lord by always putting our best foot forward. Look down at your feet, if you will. The problem is that nearly every mortal has two feet, and most require both of those feet to stand properly.
Over the past ten years I have regularly had the punishment and privilege of watching through a one-way mirror as focus groups discuss Mormons. The people in these groups were not just any people; they were selected for these sessions because their beliefs and actions demonstrated that they were likely to respond positively to the message of the Restoration. They were people who believe in Christ, who have their prayers answered, and who believe their relationships will endure beyond death, even if their particular faith doesn’t teach that. Quite possibly they were those “who are only kept from the truth because they know not where to find it” (D&C 123:12). And yet these amazing people of faith, when asked to characterize us, said, in no particular order: polygamous, sexist, racist, and exclusionary.
The first impulse in that situation was always to leap into the other room and correct the misperception, but we had all agreed not to do that, and the experience of the professionals was that the conversation would have quickly disintegrated into “No, we’re not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, we’re not.”
And so on. So we calmed ourselves and went on.
Now, there are points of history and evidence that can at least be used to argue for these erroneous perceptions, and there has been an exceptionally authentic response of late by the Church to the issues of polygamy, race, and gender, but what is most troubling for me is not those perceptions. It is the widespread opinion that we exclude others from our faith, our communities, our sociality, and our love. How can that be an accurate viewpoint?
As we probed deeper into the experiences that generated this perception, we bumped into a very understandable cultural phenomenon. The first section of the Doctrine and Covenants identifies us as “the only true and living church upon the face of the whole earth” (D&C 1:30). I believe that statement and embrace it. If we take it as a reminder that we are the grateful recipients of the blessings of access to all revealed priesthood keys and ongoing revelation from heaven to guide our actions, then it is a humbling and awe-inspiring statement of our faith. Often though, particularly in testimony meetings, it is used as a contrastive statement of pride, exclusion, and misunderstanding, as if we are more righteous than others, as if we can monopolize truth, and as if being chosen makes us more beloved.
The first African American family moved into our neighborhood in 1965. My mother, as was her custom, baked fresh bread and went to visit the new family. I peered out the window for her return, anxiously awaiting her report. To her great credit, the fact that they were black didn’t make it into the conversation at all. With genuine pleasure she exclaimed that they seemed like “such nice people for being nonmembers.”
In my suburban east side Salt Lake City neighborhood, our social circle mostly consisted of either active members or what we called Jack Mormons, since at the time the handful of Catholics or Presbyterians in the neighborhood had been kept pretty much within polite waving distance. We had little daily interaction with those not of our faith, and my mother’s surprise at their goodness affected me. I spent my youth thinking that heaven was for Mormons and that all the other believers were destined for some other place. I told my Greek and Baptist schoolmates as much. I was a little Zoramite, climbing the Rameumptom in my Primary classes and praying, “And again we thank thee, O God, that we are a chosen and a holy people” (Alma 31:18), as if to add, “and the rest of Your children are not.”
Imagine my awakening as my work over the last thirty years in fifty countries has acquainted me with thousands of our Heavenly Father’s beloved children who are amazing and faithful souls. In Egypt I worked for months with Ahmed Sami, the producer of Death on the Nile. He was a devoted Muslim, a father, and a truly ethical businessman in a country ripe with corruption at its cultural and political roots. Without even knowing the word, he voluntarily tithed himself to the benefit of the poor. He spoke of many miracles and answered prayers. He often reminded me of Christ’s injunction to be “wise as serpents, and harmless as doves” (Matthew 10:16). If I ever make it to the “entry queue” for the celestial kingdom, I expect him to be standing up there ahead, well in front of me, with the season-ticket holders.
While in Egypt we honored the promise the Church had made not to proselyte, but I have no worry for the state of Ahmed’s soul. Why? Because apostles remind us often of the Lord’s statement in 2 Nephi 27:20 that “I am able to do mine own work,” and the last two sections of the Doctrine and Covenants reiterate that the Lord has a plan for the redemption and exaltation of those who have died without the gospel and its ordinances (see D&C 137 and 138).
All of God’s children need to have an opportunity to hear the gospel, exercise their agency, and have access to the plan of salvation, or God would cease to be God. He lets us serve in our sacred responsibilities as missionaries both for our mortal trial and learning and to gather His elect, who hear His voice and doubtless have particular service to render here and hereafter. So as we seek authenticity, it would serve us to remember that all men are children of our Heavenly Father and all “come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23).
Since the reality of our own weaknesses and continual striving to overcome our failings is obvious to all who observe us—trust me—others find us most authentic when we acknowledge that trailing foot as well and don’t just champion the best foot forward, pretending we have two “right” feet. I like this quote:
I love that man better who swears a stream as long as my arm yet deals justice to his neighbors and mercifully deals his substance to the poor, than the long, smooth-faced hypocrite.
I do not want you to think that I am very righteous, for I am not.
This same person also said, “There was one good man and his name was Jesus” (HC 5:401).
Though this sounds like a focus-group participant talking, it was actually Joseph Smith who said those words. He understood the value of acknowledging what I like to call “the state of striving” in any effort to persuade, lest we hold ourselves to a standard—with our protestations or our posts or tweets or pins—that any observer could call pride in self rather than love for God and man.
Please don’t assume that I am calling for a disclosure of all our personal failings anytime we desire to rejoice or for a mandatory review of our sins as a preface to our posts. We have all seen too much information online and cringed. I am simply asking that we make sure the pictures we present of ourselves have two feet walking toward God, reflecting His glory and not our own.
This has ramifications for the way we communicate to all those who share our values but not our membership. I was taught in Primary to interact with those not of our faith using what we called “the golden questions”: What do you know about the Mormon Church? and Would you like to know more?
If we applied that advice in today’s social climate, would it work? Imagine using it on a personal interactive basis. Let’s say I boarded a plane, sat next to a fellow traveler, and declared: “Hi, I’m Scott Swofford. What do you know about me? Would you like to know more?” I am pretty sure a call button would be pressed and I would be relocated, if not removed from the plane.
The most authentic way to enter a gospel discussion is to first seek to understand. I have experimented with the following approach when seated on a plane: “Good morning. I like those shoes.” The dialogue is now underway on a positive note.
Eventually it gets us to “Is this flight outbound or returning home for you?”
Inevitably they will ask me where home is, and I am lucky in that admitting I’m from Utah is like setting a timer on a predictable response. Three, two, one: “Are you Mormon?”
Now, I could launch into my memorized first discussion, but it is in Japanese, so instead I usually reply, “Yes. And you?” I then pay genuine attention to a lot of information about this new friend—their thoughts on faith, their struggles, and their current frame of mind. Then I am ready for the Spirit to direct the next move.
Am I encouraging timidity or restraint in opening our mouths? No. Am I celebrating weakness? Yes! The Lord said:
I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them. [Ether 12:27]
Clearly, weakness and the recognition of it, the humility that follows, and the application of faith in Christ are essential to our eternal progression. Weakness is also the key to authenticity.
During the “I’m a Mormon” research we learned that the most powerful myth-dispelling force was personal exposure to the lives of our members. More powerful than any argument, firsthand knowledge was the secret weapon. When we met someone who held inaccurate beliefs, we would say, “Do you know any Mormons?”
The answer was usually something like, “Yes, one of our vendors is a Mormon.”
“Well, does he have two wives?”
“No.”
“Does he behave in a discriminatory way toward women or people of different backgrounds?”
“No.”
“Has he invited you to participate socially in his life?”
“Yes. We’ve been out to dinner.”
“So how do you explain this contradiction between your beliefs and your experience?”
“Well, he must be an exception.”
We learned that people need five to ten exceptions in their lives before they will adjust their misperceptions of Latter-day Saints, thus the profiles on Mormon.org—thousands of virtual, relatable, striving followers of Christ.
After those experiences provided me with a valuable clue about what makes us relevant to others, I came to BYUtv. We knew from our research that good writing, good drama, and powerful television draw at their most inspired levels on the capability of flawed characters, whether real or imagined, to accomplish amazing things. That is our story as humans. The Atonement takes the small and simple beings that we are and makes us heirs to “all that [the] Father hath” (D&C 84:38). We began as a team to craft such shows, striving to “see the good in the world” amidst all of our human flaws. If I judge our success by the letters I receive from some well-meaning Saints, we have ruined the channel. We try to take these comments into consideration and then proceed carefully with our approved direction.
The most popular show when I arrived was a quilting show, Fons and Porter’s Love of Quilting. The week I arrived it pulled 8,700 households. Now, following the counsel of our leaders and with an amazing creative and distribution family in place, some of our shows can be seen by a million-plus viewers in a week and receive sixty-three million digital views in a year. Many of those views are by those not of our faith, and we hear from thousands of them whose expectations of us were violated in the positive.
It is our weakness and our need to overcome sin that binds us to the Savior. In Luke we read:
Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican.
The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican.
I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess.
And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner.
I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other: for every one that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted. [Luke 18:10–14]
Often bitter and gnashing voices focus on some personal weakness of Church leaders, both general and local, in an attempt to justify refusal to follow their counsel. I find these protestations, whether historical or current, to have the opposite effect on me. If these leaders can accomplish such virtuous, lovely things as humans and therefore flawed characters, then there is hope for me, a sinner. I have myself witnessed members of the ruling councils of this Church make decisions that in no way aligned with what I knew their personal opinions to be because the Spirit of the Lord had wrought upon them otherwise. What more joyous witness can there be than knowing heaven is in charge? Those not of our faith resonate with the message of the gospel best when it is presented by messengers who jump in with both feet and acknowledge their striving state.
Authenticity also implies an attempt to speak in a situational language our audience can understand. A few years ago I had the opportunity to role-play with English-speaking MTC missionaries. I chose to play a husband who had just lost his wife. I decided to go easy on the missionaries, and after welcoming them to my “home,” I spoke about my grief at the loss of my imaginary spouse and my sincere need to understand her whereabouts. I felt I had given them an obvious approach to take. “Man,” I thought to myself, “I wish I had seen such a golden investigator on my mission.”
Their fresh young faces looked up at me, and they opened their scriptures and began to enthusiastically launch into what was their most comfortable vehicle: the story of the Restoration. “In the spring of 1820 in upstate New York . . .”
I stopped them. “Now elders, listen to what I just asked and see if there is a more comforting approach.” I repeated my deep yearning for knowledge about the state of the soul after death.
With even brighter smiles they began again: “In the spring of 1820 in upstate New York . . .”
And this time I just let them talk. You see, to them the story of the Restoration is so central, so relevant, that it was of course the answer. We would all agree that the words of Alma about the Resurrection that I wanted them to quote or the messages about the sealing power that I was hoping for would not be ours without the Prophet Joseph, but they were just a little too ready to use their new MTC squirt guns to squirt the gospel on me and feel that they had done their job. I wanted them to also take responsibility for the absorption of that message. Their testimonies of Joseph Smith would be critical to my understanding as an “investigator,” but they were out of place in messaging hierarchy. If these elders had caught my situational questions and affirmed that their message had the answer I was seeking about my dear departed, I would have been happy to wade through any lesson on the Restoration, even in questionable Finnish or Tagalog or Swahili. Likewise, as we strive for authenticity, we need to listen and construct a message hierarchy.
The Savior could easily have taught “love your enemies” (Matthew 5:44) with a simple pronouncement, and He did so on occasion. He also used a much more engaging method: “A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves” (Luke 10:30). Now that is a terrific opening, of course belonging to the parable of the good Samaritan. Both approaches eventually arrive at the same place—love your enemies—but one follows a messaging strategy that I have seen work countless times in my career from behind the one-way mirrors.
I am aware that by advocating a change in our approach to the world I have perhaps created another “should,” and the sad reality is that “you should” can become the enemy of “I would.” I saw an effective illustration of this principle once. The presenter stood a life-size cardboard cutout of a Latter-day Saint in the front of the room and began to place Post-it notes on it to represent every commandment, responsibility, expectation, program, activity, area of emphasis, and worthy endeavor members of the Church are repeatedly asked to apply themselves to. The image of the person was quickly obliterated and overwhelmed. I feel that way often. The only way for me to find a way forward is to remember that the Savior found a way to make it all simple, as He was so adept at doing. He took the mass of instructions, policies, commandments, and traditions and made them only two:
Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.
This is the first and great commandment.
And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.
On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets. [Matthew 22:37–40]
When I need a gut check in the decision-making process, I don’t always have with me the laminated card they handed out at the last leadership meeting. Instead I weigh my options against those two commandments.
It is clear that Jesus, for whom the answer to nearly all questions is love, surely loves us all. He loves the professor who came up with a perfectly good lesson plan thirty years ago and now that he is old “will not depart from it” (Proverbs 22:6). He loves the ineffective politician. He loves the guy who asks you out once and then never calls again. He loves the roommate who steals your milk. He loves the people who know Him by names we cannot pronounce, who chant to Him, who dance for Him, who kneel five times a day on little rugs, or who touch a mezuzah at their comings and goings. He loves the primitive Amazon natives who enact familiar rituals, the origin of which they do not understand (but I do). He even loves Pharisees, although to be honest He was sort of tough on them during His mortal ministry.
That love is the answer to any procedural question because it dictates through the Spirit how we are to approach each specific child of God and each specific audience. It is different for each encounter, and following that pure love of Christ under the direction of the Spirit is the ultimate communications trump card. It is divinely authentic.
I leave you with three guidelines for putting both feet forward. Feel free to laminate these for your wallet—or just put them on a sticky note on your forehead.
1. If your virtues must be extolled, it is always better to have a third party do it. Really.
2. If doing it yourself is unavoidable, start by expressing love and genuine admiration for your audience. What will follow is then less likely to be offensive.
3. When in doubt, follow dear Nephi’s example:
Nevertheless, notwithstanding the great goodness of the Lord, in showing me his great and marvelous works, my heart exclaimeth: O wretched man that I am! Yea, my heart sorroweth because of my flesh; my soul grieveth because of mine iniquities.
I am encompassed about, because of the temptations and the sins which do so easily beset me.
And when I desire to rejoice, my heart groaneth because of my sins; nevertheless, I know in whom I have trusted. [2 Nephi 4:17–19]
Brothers and sisters, I am a wretched man. My thoughts careen recklessly in and out of the appropriate path. My family, my coworkers, and my bosses will attest that I am often irreverent and annoying. When I served as a bishop, a sister told me in an interview that I was not only glib—a word I had to look up—but that I also had perhaps “the shortest attention span on the planet.” Sometimes I think there is no hope.
It is not God who makes me feel that way in the middle of the night. Weakness and humility lead to hopefulness, not helplessness. But when I calm myself I know there is indeed a bright hope, because I know in whom I have trusted. I believe that if I just keep striving, keep repenting, and don’t stop trying to love as He loved, then someday, maybe after a millennium of practice, I will be whole because of His atoning sacrifice for me.
Today, here in this gathering, I feel His love for you, though you are all also wretched in some way. I know His love will save you and me, and I know that about you because you know in whom you have trusted. I testify that you will go on, with both feet forward—the best foot and the real foot—to do mighty things in His name. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
My father was a builder of big buildings, some well known. So when I returned from my two-year mission to Japan and wanted summer work, I ended up forty feet down at the bottom of an air conditioning shaft, stripping forms from freshly poured concrete. My captive coworker, Chuck, made the mistake of asking why I would “waste two valuable years like that.” I am sure he had no idea what he was in for, and I unleashed my abundance of missionary zeal.
At some point in our discussion I heard a noise overhead and saw the familiar silhouette of my father leaning over the shaft. What he said was a surprise: “Chuck, I don’t know what he’s saying down there, but I believe it is true. Now get back to work.”
This is for me the most treasured testimony my father bore, but I hope we can surpass that level of communication today. I don’t want you to go back to class thinking, “I don’t know what he was saying down there, but I believe it is true.” Instead I want to persuade you to rethink the way you communicate to others your feelings about your connections to heaven and the amazing blessings of what you know and what you feel.
Why persuade? Because “no power or influence can or ought to be maintained by virtue of the priesthood”—and I hold no position that grants me that kind of dominion over you anyway—“only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned” (D&C 121:41). I want to persuade you to consider another perspective that will help you follow the counsel of an apostle.
Elder David A. Bednar stood here in August and asked us “to sweep the earth as with a flood of truth and righteousness” in our online efforts (“To Sweep the Earth as with a Flood,” BYU Education Week devotional address, 19 August 2014, lds.org/prophets-and-apostles/unto-all-the-world/to-sweep-the-earth-as-with-a-flood). His devotional was historic in many ways. I was so delighted.
Elder Bednar’s first qualification for this effort was simple:
We are disciples, and our messages should be authentic. A person or product that is not authentic is false, fake, and fraudulent. Our messages should be truthful, honest, and accurate. We should not exaggerate, embellish, or pretend to be someone or something we are not. [“To Sweep the Earth”]
Following his counsel to be authentic will be more difficult for us, as central-culture Mormons, because for decades we have desired to honor the Lord by always putting our best foot forward. Look down at your feet, if you will. The problem is that nearly every mortal has two feet, and most require both of those feet to stand properly.
Over the past ten years I have regularly had the punishment and privilege of watching through a one-way mirror as focus groups discuss Mormons. The people in these groups were not just any people; they were selected for these sessions because their beliefs and actions demonstrated that they were likely to respond positively to the message of the Restoration. They were people who believe in Christ, who have their prayers answered, and who believe their relationships will endure beyond death, even if their particular faith doesn’t teach that. Quite possibly they were those “who are only kept from the truth because they know not where to find it” (D&C 123:12). And yet these amazing people of faith, when asked to characterize us, said, in no particular order: polygamous, sexist, racist, and exclusionary.
The first impulse in that situation was always to leap into the other room and correct the misperception, but we had all agreed not to do that, and the experience of the professionals was that the conversation would have quickly disintegrated into “No, we’re not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, we’re not.”
And so on. So we calmed ourselves and went on.
Now, there are points of history and evidence that can at least be used to argue for these erroneous perceptions, and there has been an exceptionally authentic response of late by the Church to the issues of polygamy, race, and gender, but what is most troubling for me is not those perceptions. It is the widespread opinion that we exclude others from our faith, our communities, our sociality, and our love. How can that be an accurate viewpoint?
As we probed deeper into the experiences that generated this perception, we bumped into a very understandable cultural phenomenon. The first section of the Doctrine and Covenants identifies us as “the only true and living church upon the face of the whole earth” (D&C 1:30). I believe that statement and embrace it. If we take it as a reminder that we are the grateful recipients of the blessings of access to all revealed priesthood keys and ongoing revelation from heaven to guide our actions, then it is a humbling and awe-inspiring statement of our faith. Often though, particularly in testimony meetings, it is used as a contrastive statement of pride, exclusion, and misunderstanding, as if we are more righteous than others, as if we can monopolize truth, and as if being chosen makes us more beloved.
The first African American family moved into our neighborhood in 1965. My mother, as was her custom, baked fresh bread and went to visit the new family. I peered out the window for her return, anxiously awaiting her report. To her great credit, the fact that they were black didn’t make it into the conversation at all. With genuine pleasure she exclaimed that they seemed like “such nice people for being nonmembers.”
In my suburban east side Salt Lake City neighborhood, our social circle mostly consisted of either active members or what we called Jack Mormons, since at the time the handful of Catholics or Presbyterians in the neighborhood had been kept pretty much within polite waving distance. We had little daily interaction with those not of our faith, and my mother’s surprise at their goodness affected me. I spent my youth thinking that heaven was for Mormons and that all the other believers were destined for some other place. I told my Greek and Baptist schoolmates as much. I was a little Zoramite, climbing the Rameumptom in my Primary classes and praying, “And again we thank thee, O God, that we are a chosen and a holy people” (Alma 31:18), as if to add, “and the rest of Your children are not.”
Imagine my awakening as my work over the last thirty years in fifty countries has acquainted me with thousands of our Heavenly Father’s beloved children who are amazing and faithful souls. In Egypt I worked for months with Ahmed Sami, the producer of Death on the Nile. He was a devoted Muslim, a father, and a truly ethical businessman in a country ripe with corruption at its cultural and political roots. Without even knowing the word, he voluntarily tithed himself to the benefit of the poor. He spoke of many miracles and answered prayers. He often reminded me of Christ’s injunction to be “wise as serpents, and harmless as doves” (Matthew 10:16). If I ever make it to the “entry queue” for the celestial kingdom, I expect him to be standing up there ahead, well in front of me, with the season-ticket holders.
While in Egypt we honored the promise the Church had made not to proselyte, but I have no worry for the state of Ahmed’s soul. Why? Because apostles remind us often of the Lord’s statement in 2 Nephi 27:20 that “I am able to do mine own work,” and the last two sections of the Doctrine and Covenants reiterate that the Lord has a plan for the redemption and exaltation of those who have died without the gospel and its ordinances (see D&C 137 and 138).
All of God’s children need to have an opportunity to hear the gospel, exercise their agency, and have access to the plan of salvation, or God would cease to be God. He lets us serve in our sacred responsibilities as missionaries both for our mortal trial and learning and to gather His elect, who hear His voice and doubtless have particular service to render here and hereafter. So as we seek authenticity, it would serve us to remember that all men are children of our Heavenly Father and all “come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23).
Since the reality of our own weaknesses and continual striving to overcome our failings is obvious to all who observe us—trust me—others find us most authentic when we acknowledge that trailing foot as well and don’t just champion the best foot forward, pretending we have two “right” feet. I like this quote:
I love that man better who swears a stream as long as my arm yet deals justice to his neighbors and mercifully deals his substance to the poor, than the long, smooth-faced hypocrite.
I do not want you to think that I am very righteous, for I am not.
This same person also said, “There was one good man and his name was Jesus” (HC 5:401).
Though this sounds like a focus-group participant talking, it was actually Joseph Smith who said those words. He understood the value of acknowledging what I like to call “the state of striving” in any effort to persuade, lest we hold ourselves to a standard—with our protestations or our posts or tweets or pins—that any observer could call pride in self rather than love for God and man.
Please don’t assume that I am calling for a disclosure of all our personal failings anytime we desire to rejoice or for a mandatory review of our sins as a preface to our posts. We have all seen too much information online and cringed. I am simply asking that we make sure the pictures we present of ourselves have two feet walking toward God, reflecting His glory and not our own.
This has ramifications for the way we communicate to all those who share our values but not our membership. I was taught in Primary to interact with those not of our faith using what we called “the golden questions”: What do you know about the Mormon Church? and Would you like to know more?
If we applied that advice in today’s social climate, would it work? Imagine using it on a personal interactive basis. Let’s say I boarded a plane, sat next to a fellow traveler, and declared: “Hi, I’m Scott Swofford. What do you know about me? Would you like to know more?” I am pretty sure a call button would be pressed and I would be relocated, if not removed from the plane.
The most authentic way to enter a gospel discussion is to first seek to understand. I have experimented with the following approach when seated on a plane: “Good morning. I like those shoes.” The dialogue is now underway on a positive note.
Eventually it gets us to “Is this flight outbound or returning home for you?”
Inevitably they will ask me where home is, and I am lucky in that admitting I’m from Utah is like setting a timer on a predictable response. Three, two, one: “Are you Mormon?”
Now, I could launch into my memorized first discussion, but it is in Japanese, so instead I usually reply, “Yes. And you?” I then pay genuine attention to a lot of information about this new friend—their thoughts on faith, their struggles, and their current frame of mind. Then I am ready for the Spirit to direct the next move.
Am I encouraging timidity or restraint in opening our mouths? No. Am I celebrating weakness? Yes! The Lord said:
I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them. [Ether 12:27]
Clearly, weakness and the recognition of it, the humility that follows, and the application of faith in Christ are essential to our eternal progression. Weakness is also the key to authenticity.
During the “I’m a Mormon” research we learned that the most powerful myth-dispelling force was personal exposure to the lives of our members. More powerful than any argument, firsthand knowledge was the secret weapon. When we met someone who held inaccurate beliefs, we would say, “Do you know any Mormons?”
The answer was usually something like, “Yes, one of our vendors is a Mormon.”
“Well, does he have two wives?”
“No.”
“Does he behave in a discriminatory way toward women or people of different backgrounds?”
“No.”
“Has he invited you to participate socially in his life?”
“Yes. We’ve been out to dinner.”
“So how do you explain this contradiction between your beliefs and your experience?”
“Well, he must be an exception.”
We learned that people need five to ten exceptions in their lives before they will adjust their misperceptions of Latter-day Saints, thus the profiles on Mormon.org—thousands of virtual, relatable, striving followers of Christ.
After those experiences provided me with a valuable clue about what makes us relevant to others, I came to BYUtv. We knew from our research that good writing, good drama, and powerful television draw at their most inspired levels on the capability of flawed characters, whether real or imagined, to accomplish amazing things. That is our story as humans. The Atonement takes the small and simple beings that we are and makes us heirs to “all that [the] Father hath” (D&C 84:38). We began as a team to craft such shows, striving to “see the good in the world” amidst all of our human flaws. If I judge our success by the letters I receive from some well-meaning Saints, we have ruined the channel. We try to take these comments into consideration and then proceed carefully with our approved direction.
The most popular show when I arrived was a quilting show, Fons and Porter’s Love of Quilting. The week I arrived it pulled 8,700 households. Now, following the counsel of our leaders and with an amazing creative and distribution family in place, some of our shows can be seen by a million-plus viewers in a week and receive sixty-three million digital views in a year. Many of those views are by those not of our faith, and we hear from thousands of them whose expectations of us were violated in the positive.
It is our weakness and our need to overcome sin that binds us to the Savior. In Luke we read:
Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican.
The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican.
I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess.
And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner.
I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other: for every one that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted. [Luke 18:10–14]
Often bitter and gnashing voices focus on some personal weakness of Church leaders, both general and local, in an attempt to justify refusal to follow their counsel. I find these protestations, whether historical or current, to have the opposite effect on me. If these leaders can accomplish such virtuous, lovely things as humans and therefore flawed characters, then there is hope for me, a sinner. I have myself witnessed members of the ruling councils of this Church make decisions that in no way aligned with what I knew their personal opinions to be because the Spirit of the Lord had wrought upon them otherwise. What more joyous witness can there be than knowing heaven is in charge? Those not of our faith resonate with the message of the gospel best when it is presented by messengers who jump in with both feet and acknowledge their striving state.
Authenticity also implies an attempt to speak in a situational language our audience can understand. A few years ago I had the opportunity to role-play with English-speaking MTC missionaries. I chose to play a husband who had just lost his wife. I decided to go easy on the missionaries, and after welcoming them to my “home,” I spoke about my grief at the loss of my imaginary spouse and my sincere need to understand her whereabouts. I felt I had given them an obvious approach to take. “Man,” I thought to myself, “I wish I had seen such a golden investigator on my mission.”
Their fresh young faces looked up at me, and they opened their scriptures and began to enthusiastically launch into what was their most comfortable vehicle: the story of the Restoration. “In the spring of 1820 in upstate New York . . .”
I stopped them. “Now elders, listen to what I just asked and see if there is a more comforting approach.” I repeated my deep yearning for knowledge about the state of the soul after death.
With even brighter smiles they began again: “In the spring of 1820 in upstate New York . . .”
And this time I just let them talk. You see, to them the story of the Restoration is so central, so relevant, that it was of course the answer. We would all agree that the words of Alma about the Resurrection that I wanted them to quote or the messages about the sealing power that I was hoping for would not be ours without the Prophet Joseph, but they were just a little too ready to use their new MTC squirt guns to squirt the gospel on me and feel that they had done their job. I wanted them to also take responsibility for the absorption of that message. Their testimonies of Joseph Smith would be critical to my understanding as an “investigator,” but they were out of place in messaging hierarchy. If these elders had caught my situational questions and affirmed that their message had the answer I was seeking about my dear departed, I would have been happy to wade through any lesson on the Restoration, even in questionable Finnish or Tagalog or Swahili. Likewise, as we strive for authenticity, we need to listen and construct a message hierarchy.
The Savior could easily have taught “love your enemies” (Matthew 5:44) with a simple pronouncement, and He did so on occasion. He also used a much more engaging method: “A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves” (Luke 10:30). Now that is a terrific opening, of course belonging to the parable of the good Samaritan. Both approaches eventually arrive at the same place—love your enemies—but one follows a messaging strategy that I have seen work countless times in my career from behind the one-way mirrors.
I am aware that by advocating a change in our approach to the world I have perhaps created another “should,” and the sad reality is that “you should” can become the enemy of “I would.” I saw an effective illustration of this principle once. The presenter stood a life-size cardboard cutout of a Latter-day Saint in the front of the room and began to place Post-it notes on it to represent every commandment, responsibility, expectation, program, activity, area of emphasis, and worthy endeavor members of the Church are repeatedly asked to apply themselves to. The image of the person was quickly obliterated and overwhelmed. I feel that way often. The only way for me to find a way forward is to remember that the Savior found a way to make it all simple, as He was so adept at doing. He took the mass of instructions, policies, commandments, and traditions and made them only two:
Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.
This is the first and great commandment.
And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.
On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets. [Matthew 22:37–40]
When I need a gut check in the decision-making process, I don’t always have with me the laminated card they handed out at the last leadership meeting. Instead I weigh my options against those two commandments.
It is clear that Jesus, for whom the answer to nearly all questions is love, surely loves us all. He loves the professor who came up with a perfectly good lesson plan thirty years ago and now that he is old “will not depart from it” (Proverbs 22:6). He loves the ineffective politician. He loves the guy who asks you out once and then never calls again. He loves the roommate who steals your milk. He loves the people who know Him by names we cannot pronounce, who chant to Him, who dance for Him, who kneel five times a day on little rugs, or who touch a mezuzah at their comings and goings. He loves the primitive Amazon natives who enact familiar rituals, the origin of which they do not understand (but I do). He even loves Pharisees, although to be honest He was sort of tough on them during His mortal ministry.
That love is the answer to any procedural question because it dictates through the Spirit how we are to approach each specific child of God and each specific audience. It is different for each encounter, and following that pure love of Christ under the direction of the Spirit is the ultimate communications trump card. It is divinely authentic.
I leave you with three guidelines for putting both feet forward. Feel free to laminate these for your wallet—or just put them on a sticky note on your forehead.
1. If your virtues must be extolled, it is always better to have a third party do it. Really.
2. If doing it yourself is unavoidable, start by expressing love and genuine admiration for your audience. What will follow is then less likely to be offensive.
3. When in doubt, follow dear Nephi’s example:
Nevertheless, notwithstanding the great goodness of the Lord, in showing me his great and marvelous works, my heart exclaimeth: O wretched man that I am! Yea, my heart sorroweth because of my flesh; my soul grieveth because of mine iniquities.
I am encompassed about, because of the temptations and the sins which do so easily beset me.
And when I desire to rejoice, my heart groaneth because of my sins; nevertheless, I know in whom I have trusted. [2 Nephi 4:17–19]
Brothers and sisters, I am a wretched man. My thoughts careen recklessly in and out of the appropriate path. My family, my coworkers, and my bosses will attest that I am often irreverent and annoying. When I served as a bishop, a sister told me in an interview that I was not only glib—a word I had to look up—but that I also had perhaps “the shortest attention span on the planet.” Sometimes I think there is no hope.
It is not God who makes me feel that way in the middle of the night. Weakness and humility lead to hopefulness, not helplessness. But when I calm myself I know there is indeed a bright hope, because I know in whom I have trusted. I believe that if I just keep striving, keep repenting, and don’t stop trying to love as He loved, then someday, maybe after a millennium of practice, I will be whole because of His atoning sacrifice for me.
Today, here in this gathering, I feel His love for you, though you are all also wretched in some way. I know His love will save you and me, and I know that about you because you know in whom you have trusted. I testify that you will go on, with both feet forward—the best foot and the real foot—to do mighty things in His name. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
Tuesday, January 21, 2020
Saturday, December 14, 2019
The Effects of Technology on Our Lives
Recent advancements in technology have dramatically changed the way we live and interact with each other. In many ways our lives have greatly benefited from these many improvements, such as an unprecedented dissemination of information, enhanced communication, and more. However, I fear that many unintended and undesirable outcomes have resulted. I explain my concerns below, and conclude by offering myself advice on how to handle those concerns.
Concern #1: Technology can distract us from sustained, reflective thought.
So often when I go to the internet to search specifically for something, or to compose an email, I find myself whisked away by a link, a pop-up, an ad, a new message, a notification, or some other tangent. Suddenly an hour has gone by, and I realize that I still have not accomplished my original purpose. I also find myself frequently sidetracked by seemingly endless messages (emails, texts, voice mails, social media messages, etc.), which lure me away from more important pursuits. At my job, I could easily spend most of my workday simply reading and answering messages and never get anything meaningful done.
Sometimes I am lulled into thinking that time spent staring at a screen can be unwinding, relaxing, and renewing. Many of us easily get sucked into checking messages, social media, sports scores, surfing the net, watching YouTube videos, or playing a video game late into the night. Even if the activity is “mindless” (i.e., not mentally demanding), such prolonged engagement does not allow the brain to fully disengage and get the sleep that it truly needs. Over time this can lead to mental fatigue and reduced effectiveness.
Then there is “multi-tasking.” It is tempting to think that I can effectively flit back and forth from task to task, tab to tab, person to screen, or screen to driving a car. Trying to multitask is inefficient -- for both pursuits -- and wastes time. (And in the case of driving a car, it is extremely dangerous.) With such splintered attention, neither task receives anything beyond superficial attention. It is also discourteous to do so if one of the tasks is speaking with another person, where your eyes and attention keep steering away from them and the conversation at hand.
Another means of distraction is the “omnivailability” of those who own a smartphone. No matter where you are or what you are doing -- day or night, next door or a thousand miles away -- if you have a smartphone, you are immediately accessible and thus fair game to be interrupted (if you allow it).
Concern #2: Technology can corrode our use of correct, precise language and the thoughts that it represents.
Much of our communication, especially when texting, has deteriorated into abbreviations, acronyms, emojis, comma splices, and incomplete or partial information. Our messages are often replete with errors in grammar, capitalization, punctuation, and spelling. Some may argue that since texting is merely a means to get chunks of information from the sender to the recipient, and merely for functional purposes, that it doesn’t matter if there are errors. That may be so in many cases; but too often the recipient is left to decipher what the sender truly meant, often misinterpreting tone and intention.
Concern #3: Some media promulgated via technology can affect our perception of reality.
Technology makes powerfully influential ideas, images, and videos immediately accessible. Quite often the message implies that, “We know what is right. If you don’t think like us, something is wrong with you.” I see this with news organizations, bloggers, advertisers, and especially in social media; and this applies to politics, religion, fashion, attitudes, and trends in general. Just because somebody or some organization “likes” something doesn’t make it right, true, or valuable. Conversely, just because somebody attacks somebody or something, it does not follow that that thing or person is wrong, false, or worthless.
It is also a tempting tendency to compare our worst to others’ best, especially on social media. Supposing yourself to be less glamorous, less successful, less beautiful, less intelligent, or less valuable than others is a distorted view of reality, and simply not fair to yourself. A spirit of comparison is detrimental, and can detract from your own pursuit of self-betterment. People who post glamorous photographs of themselves, announce the greatness of their relationships, post pictures of their exotic trips, or proclaim their own accomplishments may themselves be struggling with feelings of insecurity and seeking validation of their own self-worth.
Finally, pornography distorts and objectifies sexuality.
Concern #4: Technology can create barriers between us and others.
Technology has reduced the opportunities for people to interact with each other face to face. You can order your food with an app, buy merchandise online, request a service, find a location without asking for directions, summon a taxi and pay without speaking with the driver, or send a text instead of phoning.
I have been in many conversations with somebody, where either they or I have a screen open (smartphone, laptop, etc.). You and I might be having a “conversation” in the same room, but between the eyes darting back and forth from the screen to the person and some trite phrases exchanged, our communication is impeded, often empty, and we may as well be on opposite ends of the world. Particularly in social settings, whether it’s a family gathering, a waiting room, a party, a crowded bus, etc., the moment the screens come out, barriers are raised. Everyone goes to their own place, despite physical proximity, and we are not really together. This can be terribly isolating. No wonder so many people feel alone, anxious, and depressed nowadays.
In my career, I regularly attend trainings, meetings, and conferences. I have noticed that shortly after the speaker begins their presentation, many in the audience either open up their laptop or hop on their smartphone. Sometimes it feels like nobody is listening to or engaging with the speaker’s presentation. Eyes go down. Is anybody taking notes? Perhaps. But the collective tune-out is often glaringly conspicuous. Sadly, it seems that our society has come to accept this practice as the norm. It is not only impolite and unprofessional, but also a costly habit that impedes professional development.
The anonymity component of technology also creates a barrier or enmity. For example, there is a text or phone call from an unknown source, or comment boards (such as on news sites) where contributors hide behind the mask of a pseudonym or an unidentified number and leave defamatory, intolerant, hurtful, or profane comments. It seems a human tendency to say more blunt and attacking comments when one thinks they can say them in disguise.
Concern #5: Technology can make us impatient.
With immediate access to communication, information, merchandise, and services, we as a society often have a hard time tolerating anything that takes time. Waiting goes out the window when virtually anything your heart desires is just a click away. Gone are the days of having to hunt for a recipe, an address, a fact, a solution, etc. We have become a Veruca Salt society (if you don’t know who that is, just pull out your smartphone and Google it) of self-entitlement.
Conclusion
I am getting swept away too easily by technology, pulled from my moorings, becoming reactionary, becoming flabby, becoming a zombie, losing my creativity in a lot of ways, and seeing my relationships with others negatively impacted. I have to do something to take back my life, so I have written this essay, and I conclude with a letter to myself below.
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A Letter to Myself about Technology
Dear Tim,
Now that you have spouted off your concerns about technology, I need to talk to you. You seem to think that all technology is bad, but it is not. I want to give you some advice on how to manage technology so that it doesn’t manage you, and thus live a great life.
Here is my advice:
1) Focus on relationships! Engage with your wife, family, friends, and colleagues. Invite them to do things with you. Talk with them. Seek to use technology as a tool to enhance those special relationships, instead of allowing it to serve as a distraction, impediment, or isolator.
2) Recognize that you are in control of your technology. Your time is your own. Your energy is your own. You are smarter (and wiser) than your smartphone. Use technology on your terms -- not the device’s.
3) Seek to communicate with others in person (or by phone) as much as possible, rather than emailing or texting. Think about it: To email or text about an important issue, it takes time to compose a thorough, clear message, and that still stands the chance of being misunderstood. Then there is the subsequent series of back-and-forth replies with more details and follow-up questions, which you will need to talk through as well. On the flip side, when you communicate in person, you and the person can see each other’s body language, hear each other’s tone, ask follow-up questions, often generate better solutions together, and find greater clarity. In addition, it usually takes less time, and the relationship is strengthened in the process.
4) Improve your focus strategically when using technology:
- Put the page to full screen, so that there’s no background icons or side distractions.
- Turn off as many notifications as you can.
- Leave distracting devices elsewhere when engage in important pursuits.
- Have only one tab open if possible.
- Do important projects in a sustained block of time, instead of interrupted segments. You won’t have to remember each time where you left off, what you have done, mentally re-engage, and resume. You will ultimately get more done, in less time, and do it better.
- Like I said in #3, communicate as much as you can in person or by phone. If that’s not feasible, then …
- Prioritize: Attend to the most important messages first.
- Realize that you don’t have to answer every message the moment it comes.
- Delete the unnecessary.
- Delegate where possible.
- Keep your answers brief.
- Unsubscribe.
6) Renew yourself every day, without technology: Take time to think, pray, sleep (you need your sleep!), sing, play sports, exercise, create, listen to a record, nap, play with your kids, go on a date, read, visit somebody, get out of the house, walk the dogs, write a poem, write in your journal, write an essay like this one, go to the park, knit a scarf, dance, etc.
7) Proofread before posting or sending. Use the resources available online such as a dictionary, thesaurus, spell check, and grammar check. Insist that all important communications from you are crisp, clear, and error free.
8) Post positive things on social media. Use technology for good, and for improving human relationships. Avoid sarcasm, complaints, and criticism.
Final Thoughts
Technology is here to stay. Embrace it. It has the power to connect us to or disconnect us from each other. Use it purposefully as a tool, to help you have a better life.
Despite the potential hazards that technology poses, it can still be a wonderful ally, as long as we wield it purposefully and deliberately. I am confident that we can benefit from the advantages that technology offers by purposefully implementing proactive strategies and habits to circumvent its potential pitfalls.
Sunday, December 08, 2019
The Incredible Book of Mormon: Its Intricacies and Consistencies
The Book of Mormon is incredible. Its plot interweaves multiple stories simultaneously, yet remains seamless and consistent in its narration. During the flow of its narration, the book will comment about a person, an event, a location, or a doctrine, then in 10, 50, or 100 pages later make another reference to that antecedent, often offering up further clarification.
The following are examples I have noted in my studies:
1 Nephi 12:4-5 (592 BC, page 22) and Helaman 14:21-27 (6 BC, page 402) foretell the mists of darkness, weather conditions, and destruction of cities when Jesus Christ would die.
3 Nephi 8:5-23 (33 AD, pages 422-423) confirms in detail what had been foretold.
1 Nephi 12:6 (592 BC, page 22) foretells that Jesus Christ will descend from heaven and show himself to Nephi’s descendants.
3 Nephi 11:8-15 (34 AD, pages 428-429) describes Jesus Christ descending from heaven to the Nephites and showing himself to them.
2 Nephi 26:3 (559 BC, pages 100-101) foretells the signs of Jesus Christ’s birth, death, including how unbelievers would stone and kill the prophets.
Helaman 14:3-5 (6 BC, page 401) tells of the signs of Christ’s birth taking place.
Helaman 14:20-27 (6 BC, page 402) foretells of the upcoming signs of Christ’s death.
3 Nephi 8:25 (33 AD, pages 423-424) tells how unbelievers did stone and kill the prophets. This is also referenced in 3 Nephi 10:12 (34 AD, page 426).
Omni 1:27-28 (323 BC, pages 142-143) talks of how some Nephites wanted to go back to the land of their inheritance.
Mosiah 9:1-4 (200 BC, page 164) expands on how that happened.
Mosiah 3:17 (124 BC, page 152): King Benjamin tells his sons that salvation can only come through the name of Christ.
Helaman 5:9 (about 30 BC, page 378) refers to the words King Benjamin said to his sons.
Mosiah 7:6-13 (121 BC, page 160) tells how Ammon, Amaleki, Helem, and Hem encounter King Limhi and his “guards without the gate.”
Mosiah 21:22-24 (121 BC, page 188) mentions the same encounter.
Mosiah 8:9 (121 BC, page 163) talks of the 24 gold plates that King Limhi’s people found.
Alma 37:21 (74 BC, pages 301-302): Alma commands his son Helaman to keep the 24 gold plates.
Ether 1:1-2 (date unknown, page 487) begins by saying that it is the story of the Jaredites, taken from the 24 plates that Limhi’s people found.
Mosiah 11:12 (160 BC, page 168) talks about the tower that King Noah had built near the temple.
Mosiah 19:5 (145 BC, page 183) mentions that King Noah fled to that same same tower.
Mosiah 12-16 (148 BC, pages 170-179) tells of Abinadi’s prophecies and death.
Mormon 1:19 (326 AD, page 470) confirms how some of Abinadi’s prophecies were fulfilled.
Mosiah 21:35 (122 BC, page 189): The narrator tells the reader that he will give an account of the baptism of the people of Limhi later on.
Mosiah 25:17-18 (120 BC, pages 195-196) tells of their baptism.
Mosiah 28:9 (92 BC, page 203): The narrator tells the reader that he will give an account of the preachings of Alma and the sons of Mosiah among the Lamanites.
Alma 17-26 (90 BC, pages 250-275) tells of their preachings.
Mosiah 28:19 (92 BC, page 203): The narrator tells the reader that an account of the Jaredites will be given later.
The Book of Ether (pages 487-518) gives that account.
Mosiah 29:46-47 (92 BC, page 207) talks about King Mosiah dying 509 years after Lehi left Jerusalem.
3 Nephi 2:5-6 (AD 5, page 409) refers to the death of King Mosiah 100 years before, and that it has now been 609 years since Lehi left Jerusalem.
Mosiah 29:27 (92 BC, page 206): King Mosiah teaches that if the voice of the people chooses iniquity, the judgments of God will come upon them.
Alma 10:19 (82 BC, page 233): Amulek mentions King Mosiah’s teaching from 10 years before.
Mosiah 29:27 (92-91 BC, page 206) contains Mosiah’s warning about the destruction awaiting the people if they chose iniquity;
Alma 1:1 (91-88 BC, page 208) refers to the laws Mosiah had established; and
Alma 5 (83 BC, pages 217-223) contains prophecies about the coming of Christ and the spiritual decay of the people.
Helaman 4:21-22 (38-30 BC, page 376) refers back to the prophecies of Alma, the words of Mosiah, and the law Mosiah had established.
Alma 31:5-38 (74 BC, page 285) tells about Alma, Amulek, and Zeezrom preaching to the Zoramites.
In Helaman 5:41 (30 BC, page 380), Aminadab refers to the teachings of Alma, Amulek, and Zeezrom.
Alma 16:9 (81 BC, page 248) tells that the people of Ammonihah were destroyed.
Alma 49:3 (72 BC, page 330) mentions how the Nephites rebuilt Ammonihah because it had previously been destroyed.
Alma 18:24-39 (90 BC, page 255): Ammon implements a missionary teaching approach with King Lamoni, beginning with the question about a belief in God, then proceeding to teach about the creation, the fall of man, and redemption by way of Jesus Christ’s atonement.
Alma 22:7-14 (90 BC, page 264): Aaron implements a similar teaching approach with the father of King Lamoni.
Alma 30:37 (74 BC, page 283) is another example of a missionary approach asking about a belief in God.
Alma 31:3 (74 BC, page 285) talks of Antionum being the land of the Zoramites.
Alma 43:5 (74 BC, page 314) restates that Antionum is the land of the Zoramites.
Alma 43:35-54 (74 BC, page 316-318) tells of a Lehi leading in a battle between the Nephites and the Lamanites at the river Sidon.
Alma 49:16 (72 BC, page 331) refers to that same Lehi who was a leader in the battle at the river Sidon.
Alma 11:34 (about 82 BC, page 236): Amulek talks about how the Son of God cannot save his people in their sins.
Helaman 5:10 (about 30 BC, page 378) refers back to Amulek’s teaching, confirming that the Lord will not redeem his people in their sins, but from their sins.
Mosiah 7:6-7 (121 BC, page 160) and Mosiah 21:23 (122-121 BC, page 188) talk of Ammon and his brethren being thrown into prison by Limhi’s guard.
Helaman 5:21 (30 BC, page 378): Nephi and Lehi were thrown into that same prison, over 90 years later.
Helaman 13:12-13 (6 BC, page 398): The Lord tells Samuel that He would burn the city of Zarahemla if it were not for the righteous people there.
3 Nephi 8:8 (33 AD, page 422): the city of Zarahemla begins to burn.
3 Nephi 9:3 (34 AD, page 424): the Lord explains that he burned the city of Zarahemla.
3 Nephi 18:37 (34 AD, page 444) assures the reader that he will tell more about how Jesus gave the disciples power to confer the Holy Ghost.
In Moroni 2:1-3 (401 AD, page 519), the narrator tells how Jesus conferred the Holy Ghost upon His Nephite disciples.
3 Nephi 28:9 (34-35 AD, page 461): Jesus assures three of His Nephite disciples that they will not sorrow except for the sins of the world.
4 Nephi 1:44 (35-421 AD, page 468) tells how the three Nephite disciples began to sorrow for the sins of the world.
Mormon 2:9 (327-350 AD, page 471): Aaron is a king of the Lamanites who has an army.
Moroni 9:17 (401 AD, page 528) talks of Aaron’s same army.
Ether 12:13-17 (date unknown, pages 509-510) refers to four different events in four different places in the Book of Mormon:
- Verse 13 talks of Ammon and Amulek in the prison that fell down (Alma 14:26-29 (82-81 BC, page 246)).
- Verse 14 talks of Lehi and Nephi among the Lamanites (Helaman 5:50-52 (30 BC, page 380)).
- Verse 15 talks of Ammon’s miracles among the Lamanites (Alma 17-20 (91-77 BC, pages 250-261)).
- Verse 17 talks of the three Nephite disciples not having to taste of death (3 Nephi 28:7 (34-35 AD, page 461)).
Side notes:
Alma 11:3-19 talks about weights and measures that the Nephites used for their economy. John Welch wrote an interesting article about the intricacies of it.
2 Nephi 12:16 says, “And upon all the ships of the sea, and upon all the ships of Tarshish, and upon all pleasant pictures.”
The footnote reads: The Greek (Septuagint) has “ships of the sea.” The Hebrew has “ships of Tarshish.” The Book of Mormon has both, showing that the brass plates had lost neither phrase.
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