You Gotta Try This

o

Dear Will:

Sometimes my wife Dana and I will go to dinner someplace new (it happens) and I’ll order something unfamiliar that sends me into a state of gastronomic ecstasy before I’ve so much as swallowed the first bite. I’ll immediately say to Dana, Ooooh, you gotta try this. One time we were at Citrus City Grille and I ordered the halibut something-something with the whatever sauce and it was so AMAZING that, had we not been in a public place, I would have licked the plate clean and then scraped the surface off of the porcelain with my incisors. Even if Dana had been on some weird no-sauce diet I would have pinned her down and force-fed her before leaving the restaurant.

Officer O’Malley (driving): “Why did you do that to your wife, Mr. Watkins.”

Me (cuffed in the back of the patrol car): “Just for the halibut.”

So it goes with just about anything we love. See a great movie? You want to tell all of your friends to go see it—preferably as soon as possible. Same with a good novel or an amazing night of theater. I think I personally may have sent several dozen people to Zov’s over the years all because of the Chocolate Bomb you see here (well, not all because the Chocolate Bomb, but that dessert alone is reason enough to clear your calendar and drive to Tustin at your earliest convenience). Without apparent provocation I will sit you down at the nearest computer to make you watch Heart perform “Stairway to Heaven” live at the Kennedy Center (so good). It’s as if I have become a self-appointed spokesman for these things—and for Walden and Galaxy Quest (trust me) and Steinbeck and Bryce Canyon—all in the hope that others will enjoy them as much as I do.

The Book of Mormon is another case in point—delightful in a way that brings a whole new meaning to AMAZING. There’s something for everybody in that remarkable book. For instance, have you ever been asked to do something that seemed impossible? Or have you ever felt overwhelmed by an assignment that seemed beyond your capabilities? Or have you ever felt discouraged by how easily you get weighed down by personal shortcomings? If you answered yes to any of those questions, you should definitely become acquainted with the story of Nephi in the Book of Mormon’s opening chapters. It will speak to you.

Do you sometimes find yourself missing friends or loved ones who have moved away or passed away or simply stopped calling? Are you ever lonely? No doubt you’ll find personal connection with the tragic tale of Amaleki. Or have you ever done something you regretted—and you have trouble believing you can ever be forgiven? Enos and Alma felt the very same way. If you ever feel isolated, awkward, unpopular, or unsafe, alone in the midst of a crowd, you might be surprised to find out that you have a lot in common with Moroni (yes, that Moroni—the guy on top of the temple).

That’s pretty much how the Book of Mormon works. When you read it you’ll discover many others as well—real people, all-too-human, struggling with problems not too different from your own. As their stories unfold—their failures, their struggles, their miraculous triumphs—you’ll find comfort, solace, insight, and truth. And woven throughout you’ll see the principles and doctrines of Christ made real with inspirational clarity.

So if you haven’t read the Book of Mormon lately—or ever—you gotta try it. It will bless your life. And if you don’t have a copy of your own, I’ve got one right here that you can have. Let me know if you want it, and I’ll drop it off on my way to Zov’s.

PW

Mark His Footsteps

wenceslas

Dear Will:

Close your eyes for a moment and picture the central figure of Christmas: a newborn baby, bundled in a peasant’s rags, naked and hungry and vulnerable, totally incapable of taking care of himself. He is the fitting symbol of all that Jesus Christ, Savior of the world, stood for then and stands for to this day.

Jesus was and is the ultimate champion of the helpless and vulnerable. Implicit in His teachings was the promise that as we come to know and understand the needs and heartaches of others, we will come to know Him as well. So it was that He admonished us to take care of our brothers and sisters who suffer—to feed the hungry, to offer refreshment to the thirsty, to take in strangers, to clothe the naked, to visit the sick and the imprisoned. “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren,” He said, “ye have done it unto me” (Matthew 25:40).

Those teachings bring to mind a familiar carol of Christmas inspired by the legend of Václav I, Duke of Bohemia (known more commonly to us as “King Wenceslas”), who lived in the 10th century A.D. The song recounts the duke’s reaction to seeing a peasant gathering wood on a blustery, snow-filled night, the day after Christmas. Although the peasant lives several miles from the duke’s home, the monarch instructs his page to gather food and fuel for the man and his family. Wenceslas and the servant then set out through the bitter cold, laden with provisions to bring warmth, sustenance, and love to fellowcitizens facing hardship and deprivation.

Although the song itself makes no explicit mention of Christmas, it is very much a Christmas song—a fitting reminder of Jesus and the Gospel that He taught. May we follow the example of the good king even as we follow in the footsteps of the King of Kings, reaching out in love and kindness to all.

God bless you and your loved ones throughout this Christmas season and beyond.

PW

I Assure You: They’re Not

neither-do-i-condemn-thee

Dear Will:

I recently spoke with a friend who has not attended church in quite some time. After she shared with me a tender story about what had brought her to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the first place, I felt compelled to ask: “Then why have you stopped coming?” She responded with a common, sad sentiment: “I don’t feel worthy.”

My heart sank. Worthy? As if any of us is ever truly worthy! Her words left me troubled, puzzling over our human propensity to shun God due to our nagging imperfections. And I’ve concluded that this tendency leads to several persistent and problematic misconceptions:

1. We act as if we could hide from Him –This notion has been around approximately forever. You’ll recall that after Adam and Eve partook of the forbidden fruit, they heard the voice of God and hid themselves for shame (see: Genesis 3). They seemed to think that they could hide transgression behind a bush. Likewise, sometimes our indiscretions make us too ashamed to pray or attend church when those are just the things we need in an hour of weakness. “Oh,” you say, “but how could I ever come before Him after what I’ve done?” To which I say: How can you not? He knows already anyway. And He wants to help.

2. We feel that we’re not good enough – I hear this one all the time. “All of those people at church are so much better than I am.” Without going into detail, let me put it this way: NO THEY’RE NOT! In truth, we all have our weaknesses and idiosyncrasies. It is those weaknesses that draw us together. You’ll recall that Jesus was once criticized for socializing with sinners, to which He responded: “They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick” (Matthew 9:12). His invitation was to all—especially to those who might feel unworthy. He said: “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). You’ll note that He didn’t say: “Come unto me, all ye that already have your act together.” Paul reiterated that thought when he said: “For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). That includes, by the way, whoever sits next to you in Sunday School.

3. We believe we can never be forgiven – The scriptures are full of examples of those who felt that forgiveness was no longer possible for them. Yet Jesus was (and is) consistent in His willingness to extend forgiveness to all. And let’s be clear especially about this: You can never be worthy of that forgiveness; you can never earn it. He gives it freely. In this regard, His grace is truly sufficient—no matter what you or I may have done to make ourselves unworthy. In truth, nothing can separate us from the love of God (Romans 8:38-39). Nothing. Elder Jeffrey R. Holland put it this way: “Surely the thing God enjoys most about being God is the thrill of being merciful, especially to those who don’t expect it and often feel they don’t deserve it. . . . [However] far from home and family and God you feel you have traveled, I testify that you have not traveled beyond the reach of divine love. It is not possible for you to sink lower than the infinite light of Christ’s Atonement shines” (“The Laborers in the Vineyard,” Ensign, May 2012.)

I hope by now you have recognized in all of this an implied invitation, which I will now make explicit: Come join us on Sunday at the Santiago Creek Ward. You’ll fit right in. I’ll be saving you a seat in Sunday School.

PW