Gospel Story Finder

I was called as a member of the Seventy in 1977. Since then I have had the privilege of visiting hundreds of stakes. After one priesthood leadership meeting in Taylorsville, Utah, a large man approached me and whispered that his brother had been killed during World War II and that he hated Japanese people. Following the stake conference, however, this same man approached me with tears in his eyes. Crying for joy, he gave me a hug because I had shared my conversion story and my love for Americans and it had touched him.

“When I think of Dad, I think of the word dependability. He has repeated the story many times about when he was a boy and his father left him home to take care of the chores. For some reason, Dad did not do the assigned tasks and when his father returned, he disappointedly remarked, ‘I thought I could depend on you, son.’ Dad recalls that if he had been whipped on that occasion he would have felt no worse. He vowed then and there that neither the Lord nor anyone on earth would ever again have reason to question his dependability. He has spent all of his life since then being where he said he would be at the time he said he would be there and being fully prepared to do what he has been asked to do.”

Brothers and sisters, if I say anything worthwhile here this morning it will be because you exercise faith enough to induce the Lord to bless me on the spur of the moment. I had not prepared nor expected to speak here. I feel a little like the young man who, in the early days on his first lecture tour, came out here in the West. As he spoke he became nervous because he saw two cowboys fingering their revolvers and lariats. At the close of his speech, as they came up the aisle he really became excited. When they reached him, however, they said, “Don’t feel frightened, young man. We know you did the best you could. What we are looking for is the one who brought you here.”

On my family’s ranch in Idaho, we have about 40 horses. We break some of our horses to ride, but most of them we use to raise colts to sell. I learned many things from working with those horses, but I never expected to learn something about the gospel from them.
On our ranch is a 60-acre hill that doesn’t receive much water. In early summer, we put the horses on this hill to eat the grass that grows after the spring rain. One summer, there was a severe drought in our valley, and our horses had picked the hill clean of all its grass. My dad decided it was time to move the horses down to the meadow, which was covered in lush green grass.
Under the direction of my father, I opened the gate to allow the horses into the new pasture. A few of the horses immediately ran through the gate and began to eat the untouched grass, but the rest of the horses stayed on the barren hill. I tried to herd them through the gate by chasing them, but they wouldn’t go. Then I broke a bale of hay in front of the gate to lure them through, but that didn’t work either. The horses seemed content to eat the few blades of grass on the hill instead of coming through the gate.
My dad asked me to drive his truck up the hill and herd the horses through the gate while he did some work on the irrigation ditches. I was excited because my dad didn’t give me permission to drive his truck very often. But my excitement turned to disappointment. Whenever I would get the horses headed in the right direction, one old mare would take off in the wrong direction, leading the herd away from the gate.
I drove the truck faster than before, trying to herd those stubborn horses off the hill. With all my yelling, the horn honking, and a cloud of dust rising up from the hill, my dad came over from the ditches to see what was going on. I was hot and frustrated, and explained to him that I couldn’t get the horses through the gate. We both tried to herd them through with no success. Finally, we decided to leave them, hoping they’d come through the gate on their own, sooner or later.
As I walked back to the truck, feeling frustrated, I thought, “I bet this is how God feels with us sometimes.” As I pondered that, the gospel really came alive to me. I realized that sometimes we become content with the things of this life and we forget that our real destination is a “greener pasture” in God’s kingdom. When we’re headed in the right direction, Satan, like the old mare, tries to tempt us away from the path. Jesus Christ is our gate to greener pastures. He is the only way we can return to our Heavenly Father and have everlasting life (see Mosiah 3:17).

In Alaska, LDS teenagers who live in the towns of Wasilla, Palmer, and Eagle River look at the Anchorage Alaska Temple and know that something of theirs is safe inside. They were fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time to make a promise, sign their names to it, then have those pledges sealed inside the cornerstone of the temple at the dedication.
The promise they signed was quite short. It said simply: “As I prepare for marriage and a mission, I will live the standards of worthiness for entrance into the house of the Lord.” It was a promise that many of them were willing to make, but now that the promise is literally encased in stone in the temple and sealed with mortar, these young people have taken it very seriously.
“This was a goal I had previously made,” says Katie Green of the Eagle River Second Ward, “but had never put on paper. When I was given the opportunity to do so, I jumped at it. I didn’t just sign it; I pondered it. To me a promise is a promise and cannot be broken, especially with our Father in Heaven. Living the standards of worthiness doesn’t mean just not crossing the line. It means that we must live as far away from that line as possible.”
For Amie Uscola of the Wasilla First Ward, making a promise like this one is very personal. “Having my name in the cornerstone of the temple is like an agreement on a personal basis with the Lord. It is like a possession of His, and if you broke it, it is more personal. I actually do think about it every time I come here.”
These teens are thrilled to have a temple so close to their hometowns. Before the Anchorage Alaska Temple was built, these teens only rarely, if ever, had the opportunity to travel to a temple. The trips were expensive and often a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Now they have many more opportunities to do baptisms and to go through the temple for their own endowments before leaving on missions or being married. Ryan Rampton of the Eagle River Second Ward said, “With something as sacred as doing temple ordinances, now I won’t have to go to another state. I can do it in the place I grew up. That actually means a lot to me.”
Having signed a pledge that is now permanently in the temple’s cornerstone makes coming to the temple even better. “The feelings I get whenever I enter the temple,” says ShaLene Grover of the Palmer First Ward, “make the desires of my heart stronger to be a better person. This makes a difference in my life, to always be worthy to go to the temple, so I can always feel the peace I feel when going there.”

I can’t take it any more!” Mindy said in desperation. Her 11-year-old sister Carrie looked up at her. Carrie stopped playing the guitar.
“I’m not a bad sister,” Mindy continued. “I don’t tell on you when you leave the bathroom messy. I help you with spelling. Carrie, I can’t take that racket any more. Have some mercy.”
Carrie didn’t have to say anything. It was always the same. She got up, carrying her guitar. Fifteen-year-old Mindy heaved a sigh of relief as soon as Carrie had left.
“Hey Carrie,” her 16-year-old brother Mark said, as they passed in the hall. “Off to the basement again?”
Carrie moved by quickly. None of her brothers and sisters could put up with her guitar playing. She was still learning and a very slow learner at that. She always ended up in the basement where no one could hear her.
“Taken a sudden interest in food storage?” her mother asked when she saw Carrie open the door to the basement.
“No,” she said glumly, “I’m going to practice.”
“In the basement?”
Carrie sighed. “Mindy kicked me out of our room. I drive her nuts. Same with Mark, Sarah, and Paul.”
“Come into the kitchen and practice there. I’d love to hear you.”
“I sound horrible.”
“No you don’t. Come on. I’d welcome the company.”
Carrie followed her mother to the kitchen and settled herself on a chair.
“Protect your ears,” Carrie warned.
“I love all music, Carrie,” her mother said.
“This isn’t even music. I play the same stuff over and over again,” Carrie complained. “How come you like music so much?”
“When I was eight I had scarlet fever. I almost died. I couldn’t do anything except lie in bed. I was really scared. Mom would sing hymns while she did the housework. It was her way of letting me know she was there.” She paused long enough to turn the oven on. “Dad bought me a music box. It played ‘Star Dust.’ I played it so much the music box finally broke. I remember not feeling so scared when the music was playing.”
“That’s why you sing so much?”
“And why I want you to play the guitar. Don’t get discouraged. You might be a little slower than your brothers and sisters, but you’ll catch on. The guitar isn’t that easy,” her mother smiled.
“I hate being the baby. Everyone is better than me.”
“They’ve had more time.”
“It ain’t fair!”
“Isn’t fair,” her mother corrected.
“That too,” Carrie huffed. Her mother kissed her forehead.
Later that evening Mindy, Sarah, Mark, and Paul met in the room shared by Mark and Paul. Paul was 17. Sarah was 19, a freshman in college.
“So what’s the deal?” Mindy asked. She then blew a bubble with the gum she was chewing. Mark tried to pop it, but Mindy dodged his finger.
“Mom’s birthday is coming up,” Sarah said.
“It’s over two months away,” Mindy said.
“I thought this should be a really special birthday.”
Carrie came in and sat down on the bed next to Paul. “What’s up?” she asked.
“I think we should give Mom the best birthday ever. I work at the bookstore, Paul at the grocery, Mark as a handyman, and Mindy does a lot of babysitting. I think our presents should be really special. She wants a crock pot.”
“We are talking money here,” Mark said, raising his eyebrows.
“Why not?” Sarah asked.
“What about me?” Carrie chimed in.
“You really don’t make that much from weeding Mr. Duran’s garden,” Sarah said slowly. “Mom will like anything you get her. Don’t worry.” She turned her attention back to the others. “Anyway, what do you say?”
“The best presents money can buy?” Mark said hesitantly.
“Sure,” Mindy piped up. “A birthday she’ll never forget.”
“I’ll just keep telling myself, ‘Honor thy mother and father.’” Paul said.
“It won’t take much of your savings,” Sarah said.
“No,” Mark said, “Mom will see how much she means to us. It might help me budget my finances a little better.”
“Exactly! Now you’re getting the spirit.”
“How about if Mark and I go together on one?” Mindy said. “I bet Mom would like a set of gold leaf scriptures. That is way too steep for my babysitting money.”
“Hey yeah!” Mark said. “I could give her the Bible, and you could give her a triple combination.”
“Sounds good,” Sarah said. “I’m going to try a stab at the crock pot. I need to learn to budget my money too,” she said, echoing Mark’s statement.
“Guess that leaves me,” Paul said. “Any suggestions?”
“I have a few,” Mindy answered, “but not for presents.”
“Mom wants to finish her four-generation sheet,” Carrie said.
“Not that kind of present. Something you can buy,” Sarah expounded.
“Oh,” Carrie mumbled.
“Maybe an antique vase. I was waiting for Fred in his father’s antique store, and I noticed a lot of nice things. I’m sure Fred’s dad would hold something for me while I paid it off. I’m certain I could find something small.” Paul paused. “In size, not price.”
“I can’t think of anything,” Carrie said.
“Mom will like anything you get her, Carrie,” Mindy said. Carrie didn’t care for the way Mindy said anything. Carrie left.
“She’s still at that age when anything is fine,” Paul remarked.
“I’ll show them,” Carrie mumbled. “I’ll buy Mom the biggest, most expensive present.” She went to the bureau in the bedroom she shared with Mindy. She kept her money in the top drawer. She dumped the jar of money on her bed. There were quite a few coins to count. She came up with $4.87. She took some money out of her back pocket. Mr. Duran had paid her that day for the weeding she had done. She had $1.50. After removing the 15 cents for tithing, she added it to the rest. It didn’t seem like very much.
She approached her father. “Is there anything I can do around the house to earn money,” she asked, “like cut the grass?”
“That’s Mark’s job. Anyway you need a little more height for that job.”
“Wash the car?”
“You can do that,” he nodded. “Going into business for yourself?”
“I just need a little extra money.”
“May I ask why?”
Carrie was uncomfortable with the question. “I’m saving for something for someone.”
“Not blackmail,” her father said kidding.
“No.” Carrie hadn’t realized it was a joke.
Her father cracked a smile. “Well, as long as it isn’t blackmail, you can wash the car. Since I’m only paying for labor, two dollars. The soap and water are mine. Sound fair?”
“Yeah, fine.” Carrie set to work. Not only did she wash it, but she vacuumed as well.
“Well, well,” her father said, “If no unclean thing may enter into the kingdom of heaven this car will have no trouble. This is a three-dollar job. Nicely done, Carrie.”
“Dad, what are you getting Mom for her birthday?”
“So that’s what this sudden desire to become Midas is all about. To answer your question, I don’t know.”
“Everyone has more money.”
“It’s not the price of the gift but the thought and love that go into it. I could buy your mother perfume. She’d smile and thank me. On the other hand, I could get her a beat-up old Beethoven music book. That would mean more to her. I would be showing her that I know what she holds dear. So when you buy a gift, it should be with a lot of love.”
“But everything costs money.”
“True. I just don’t want you to try to outdo your brothers and sisters. They have jobs,” he counseled.
“I know.”
“Nice job on the car. Thank you.”
Carrie smiled. She had listened to her father. She still wanted to get her mother a nice gift. She really wanted to show her brothers and sisters.
Carrie began working. She did a lot of work around the house. She went around to the neighbors, and they gave her small jobs to do.
The days passed. The money in the jar increased. Carrie sat on her bed, wondering what to buy her mother. The sound of Mindy playing the piano drifted her way. She heard her mother humming along as she put the laundry away. Carrie looked over at her guitar. She sighed. She and the guitar went to the basement.
Sarah went to get the crock pot. Carrie tagged along to get some ideas for a gift. There was a month until her mother’s birthday. Carrie looked at hats, perfume, records, books, clocks, everything. She knew none of them were right.
She began saying a silent prayer. “This might sound silly, Father, but I need some help. I want to find a nice gift for my mom. Could you help me find one? I know you know what she likes best. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
By the time Sarah found her, Carrie had found a gift for her mother. Sarah asked what it was, but Carrie would not tell her.
Mindy baked a cake. Sarah and Carrie made a special birthday dinner. After dinner the presents were opened.
“My word,” their mother said as she opened the gifts. “The cost.”
“We wanted to get you something really special,” Mindy said.
“But so expensive.”
Their mother gingerly fingered the new set of scriptures. Carefully she turned the pages. Her eyes moved to the vase and crock pot. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Where’s your gift, Carrie?” Paul asked.
“We saw you hoarding all that money,” Mindy said.
Carrie swallowed. “My gift only cost 58 cents, and it’s been used,” she said slowly. They all exchanged looks of puzzlement. Carrie brought out her guitar. She sat down and placed the music to “Star Dust” in front of her. She played carefully. It had been the only piece of music she had played for a month. She had practiced hours every day. With a lot of help and encouragement from her guitar teacher she had learned it pretty well.
The music was yellowed with age. There were spots on the sheets where things had been spilled. No one knew Carrie could sing until then. Her voice was soft and clear. As Carrie sang, her mother mouthed the words. Tears welled up in her eyes. Everyone was watching Carrie.
As the song ended, Carrie looked up doubtfully. She had expected criticism, but all she heard was her mother’s trembling voice saying, “Again, Carrie. Sing it once more.”

Until just recently I would have said one life preserver is as good as another. But not anymore! What changed my mind?

Recently I attended a safety exhibit that stressed accident prevention. The water safety display intrigued me most. It included a variety of familiar pieces of lifesaving equipment. On each piece of equipment was a simple card with just one word in bold, block letters. The card read YES on the pieces of equipment that were safety approved; NO on those that were not. I was amazed. I thought all the equipment was approved and would save one’s life in an emergency. The man in charge of the display said, “Most people think all equipment is perfectly safe, but they are just taking things for granted. That’s the tragedy of it. Instead of saving you, some of this equipment could get waterlogged, weigh you down and contribute to your drowning.”

He demonstrated several pieces of equipment with the YES label and then said, “If you want to be safe and sure, use only approved equipment.”

When my son was just six years old, he suffered a physical attack that caused his fragile young mind to “break,” as it were. Prayers and fasting, pleading with the Lord, and years of medical attention and amazing medications have brought him back from a seemingly hopeless place to a happy and healthy life. It was not just prayers that helped him, although those certainly helped. It was a use of the knowledge the medical community has gained that ultimately brought about God’s miraculous gift of healing. We acted instead of just being acted upon.

Through this experience, I learned something about the Atonement that I hadn’t understood before, even after growing up in the Church. I always thought the Atonement was just for sinners. But it goes so much deeper than that. When Christ was suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane, He felt all the pains and sufferings of us all.

Elder Neil L. Andersen said:

Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, through the incalculable gift of His Atonement, not only saves us from death and offers us, through repentance, forgiveness for our sins, but He also stands ready to save us from the sorrows and pains of our wounded souls.

The pain that Christ felt was so great that He bled from every pore. It wasn’t just godly sorrow for wrongdoing—it was the pain of a mother longing for children, the pain of a parent whose child had been harmed, and the pain of a child who suffers trauma. It was all the pain we would ever suffer. And thus the Atonement is for that, too. It can help my suffering heart to heal, it can give me the strength to forgive those who have harmed me or my family, and it can comfort my children through their pains and sorrows. It can comfort you through yours. It is for all of that—not just for sin.

One day, my brother Rick and I decided to go goose hunting. That day we had success and both of us shot a goose. With the two geese in the car, we dreaded what was to come. Our father had taught us that we hunt for food. We knew that meant we would have to pluck both of these large birds and prepare them to be put in the freezer.
As we drove home, we talked about how hard it was to pluck a goose. We tried to find ways to get out of the job.
“Wait a minute,” said Rick. “Didn’t Brother Owen lose his job?”
“Yeah,” I replied.
“Maybe they need food,” said Rick.
We decided it would be a good deed for us to deliver some food to their door. (Of course, we were much more interested in getting out of the work than in doing a good deed.) We dumped the geese on the Owens’ doorstep, rang the doorbell, and ran back to the car as fast as we could. As we drove away, we were excited that we had found a way to avoid the work of plucking the geese.
The next day was fast Sunday. Brother Owen was the first one up to bear his testimony. He explained that he had lost his job and his family was struggling to get by. The night before, he was getting his three daughters ready for bed. They were crying because they were hungry and there was no food. His oldest daughter, still in Primary, explained that if they prayed, Heavenly Father would bring them food.
Brother Owen was overcome by the faith of his daughter. With tears in his eyes, he asked his daughter to pray. He explained that she had said a simple prayer, explaining to Heavenly Father that she and her family were hungry. Then she asked Heavenly Father to bring them food. As the prayer ended, the family was surprised by a knock on the door. They opened the door and found not one, but two large geese sitting on the doorstep. They thanked Heavenly Father for such a quick answer to their prayer. Brother Owen testified that God answers prayers and sat down. Rick and I had tears in our eyes.
From then on, every time my brother and I went hunting, we would drop our birds on the doorstep and run to the car. We left pheasants, ducks, quail, doves, and even some fish.
One day, as we were emptying the birds from our vests onto the Owens’ front porch, the door opened. Brother Owen stood in the doorway.
“I thought it was you,” said Brother Owen.
We apologized for leaving the birds there without cleaning them. He assured us that he was happy to clean the birds, and he was thankful for all the food we had left him. He told us how much he appreciated our thoughtfulness.
Initially, my brother and I had been trying to avoid the responsibility of cleaning after a hunt. But our loving Heavenly Father was able to use us to bless the lives of others. Now I look for opportunities to bless the lives of others—not to get out of work, but to be an instrument in God’s hands.

Recently, I visited the mother of a large family, whom I have known and admired for many years. I have watched her children grow and develop. Education, missions, temple marriages were all part of their program. I asked her what was the secret of her success. Modestly, she told me that success had not yet been achieved, that life was a continual series of tests and challenges. But she did indicate that keeping close family ties had been very important in their lives.

She said, “We have recognized that each family member needs to be treated with dignity and respect. Though the capabilities and talents of each are different, each needs to know he or she is a child of God, loved by Him. We hold regular family conferences (even after the children are married). We feel since the Church has general conference for the edification and instruction of the saints, we need to have family conferences for the same purpose. The have truly strengthened the love in our family.”

Priscilla Staines, was born to Episcopalian parents in 1823. When she was nineteen she heard the gospel and decided to be baptized, knowing she would be ‘cut off’ from family, from friends, from society. She was baptized in mid-winter, at midnight to avoid mobs; walking four miles to be immersed in a hole chopped through ice, and then returning the four miles in freezing garments. She later left for Nauvoo, stating, “I was willing to make every sacrifice in order to gain my salvation and prove myself not unworthy of the saints reward.”

I saw harmony and love in action recently in Phoenix, Arizona, when I met with government leaders and participated in humanitarian visits. I saw in action the scripture “thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.”30

In recent months, tens of thousands of ­asylum seekers—migrants seeking international ­protection—have been relocated in the Phoenix area and elsewhere. These are people with ­nothing—no belongings to speak of. They arrive with no money and no home, and, it appears for them, no choices.

Forty different faith community organizations—including The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—came together to help rescue these people from their dire circumstances. What a privilege it was to work side by side with others who are following the Lord’s admonition to care for the poor and needy. I was touched both by the desire of those who were helping and by the immense gratitude on the faces of those receiving help.

While President Faust has spent so much of his life serving others in group situations, yet he has also known what it is like to be alone. His loyalty and integrity were operative then, too. Though the only Church member on a transport ship in the South Pacific in World War II (which for 83 long days towed a larger vessel to port), he nevertheless worshipped alone on Sundays. Searching out places where he could sing alone from a pocket-sized hymnal, he would read the scriptures, meditate, and pray in private. Often this meant going up to the front of the ship, where the waves would drown out his singing. Such steady, spiritual discipline reflects, of course, special training by his parents, George A. and Amy Finlinson Faust.

A positive experience from my life may illustrate the power of example:
Some years ago as a police officer assigned to a ghetto area, I encountered the problem of foul language among my fellow officers and many of the citizens of the area. I simply did the best I could to maintain the standards we are taught, by (1) refusing to use foul language myself, and (2) discouraging offensive talk whenever I could without offending others in the process. I soon noticed that in my presence the use of foul language was at a minimum. I felt that the other men respected and honored my example, even though they did not accept my standards for themselves when they were out of my presence. I never asked for this deference; it was given almost unconsciously.
I think I appreciated this deference the most the night an angry citizen who was quite prominent in the community made a complaint against me for excessive force and abuse when writing him a traffic citation. Because of this citizen’s position in the community and to calm him, it was likely that I would receive a reprimand. However, in his complaint this citizen swore that I had used foul language and cursed him. My fellow officers and superiors, knowing that I would not have done such a thing, immediately rejected the complaint on that basis.
I believe that when we first decide how we will act, and then follow the course we have chosen and endure in it, others who associate with us will be encouraged to follow that example. Many people will recognize the merits of decent action and some may in time begin to act decently themselves. At the very least they will begin to understand it, and although they may not accept it for themselves, they will respect our actions and even insist that others respect our actions. If they do accept our example, they will endure in this course long after we are gone and will become an influence on others as well.
Certainly there are times when firmness, tempered with love, is required. I like the example of a well-known lecturer who, after the speech to a group of college students, was answering questions from the audience. One young man prefaced his question by commenting on some of the negative effects of television on our society. In particular, he mentioned “women and their lousy soap operas.”
The speaker didn’t let the remark pass. “Before I try to answer your question,” he said, with kindness in his voice, “let me say that I am uncomfortable with the feelings you expressed about women and soap operas. I think it’s an unfair and inaccurate stereotype. And even if it were true, we men have enough bad habits of our own that we should be very timid indeed about giving any kind of criticism …” And then he went on in a friendly way.
No one in the audience was offended. In fact, an invisible wave of approval swept through the audience, and, to his credit, the young man nodded, acknowledging that he felt chastened but not offended. The rest of the discussion was very relaxed and open.
It seems to me that sustaining the Lord’s example for us is not such a fearful thing when we do it in this way. My experience is that by taking this course, not only will we not offend our fellow workers and friends with complaints and indignant lectures, we will, in fact, make it comfortable for them to honor our feelings and be encouraged by our actions to change their own attitudes. Righteous influence through example requires patience, tolerance, and long-suffering, but it can bring about change.

I listened some years ago to a startling confession of a man who stood in a high place. I shall speak carefully of this, lest you try to identify him. He said he had gone to a midwest university, where he received his Ph.D. in education. His father, who was in the Presidency of the Church, went to his graduation exercises and, after the exercises were over, took him to lunch and said to him, “My boy, for eight years now you have done very little in the Church. You have gone through your college years, and now you have gone through your Ph.D. years, and you haven’t been very active in the Church. I want you to promise me that when you get back home you will get active in the Church.”

But the son said, “When I returned home, to my shocking surprise, the boys with whom I had graduated from high school had grown spiritually until they were Ph.D.’s in religion, but I was still in the high school age. I had laid aside my religion for eight years.”

As I listened to that rather sad confession, and being closely associated with that man, I watched him go through the rest of his life. He never did have his spiritual self catch up with that intellectual side. The result was that he failed to take the counsel of his father. He went through life making decisions by his own measure of what was right and wrong, and finally he lost his place in the Church and was excommunicated because of his conduct. I say, as you think of that, it should be a warning to all of us that we must keep our spiritual selves as alive and growing as our intellectual selves.

How do you feel when you express gratitude to another? I’d like to express gratitude to someone who cares about my grandchildren. A few months ago, while visiting in Texas, I asked six-year-old Thomas to tell me about his bishop. He said, “Oh, Grandmother, you will know him. He wears a dark suit, a white shirt like Papa, and he has shiny shoes and a red tie. He wears glasses and always has a smile.” I recognized Thomas’s bishop as soon as I saw him. My heart was filled with gratitude for him. Thank you, Bishop Goodman, and thank you, all you wonderful bishops.

When I was 17, I went to live with my aunt and uncle, who were sponsoring my education. When I arrived at their home in Sekondi, Ghana, I immediately noticed unusual things about their family. They had morning and evening prayers together and held family meetings on Monday evenings that seemed to make each family member feel loved and appreciated. Even though I was an active member of another faith, I became interested in finding out about their beliefs.
When I asked Uncle Sarfo about the Church, he explained many of the Church’s teachings. Some I believed, and others I did not understand.
My uncle then asked the missionaries to teach me the discussions, and I received all six of the lessons. But when the missionaries invited me to be baptized, I refused because I did not have a testimony of the Book of Mormon. I found it difficult to read and understand.
To please Aunt Evelyn and Uncle Sarfo, I had already been attending sacrament meeting. Now they encouraged me to enroll in the early-morning seminary course that was to begin in two weeks.
Getting out of bed at 4:30 A.M. was no small matter for me, but the seminary teacher, Solomon Agbo, visited me, encouraged me to attend, and seemed already to care about me. I decided to go to seminary, and once I made that decision, I resolved not to be absent even for a single day. The course of study was the Book of Mormon, and I wanted to see if I might gain a testimony of the book.
As I began studying the Book of Mormon for seminary, I experienced the feelings Elder Parley P. Pratt (1807–57) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles described when he first found the Book of Mormon. “I opened it with eagerness, and read its title page,” he wrote. “I then read the testimony of several witnesses in relation to the manner of its being found and translated. After this I commenced its contents by course. I read all day; eating was a burden, I had no desire for food; sleep was a burden when the night came, for I preferred reading to sleep” (Autobiography of Parley P. Pratt [1985], 18).
As I read, the Spirit of the Lord bore witness that the Book of Mormon is truly another testament of Jesus Christ. Through seminary the Book of Mormon became much easier to read. Whenever it was hard to follow, my teacher helped me understand. I received a testimony that the Book of Mormon is “the most correct of any book on earth, … and a man [will] get nearer to God by abiding by its precepts, than by any other book” (Joseph Smith, Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, sel. Joseph Fielding Smith [1976], 194).
I was baptized on 5 March 1995. By the time I was 21 I was a seminary teacher myself, helping others know of the divinity and truthfulness of the book that changed my life.

For 50 years, I have studied culture, including gospel culture. I began with fortune cookies.
In San Francisco’s Chinatown, Gong family dinners concluded with a fortune cookie and a wise saying like “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”
As a young adult, I made fortune cookies. Wearing white cotton gloves, I folded and tucked into shape the round cookies hot out of the oven.
To my surprise, I learned fortune cookies are not originally part of Chinese culture. To distinguish Chinese, American, and European fortune cookie culture, I looked for fortune cookies on multiple continents—just as one would use multiple locations to triangulate a forest fire. Chinese restaurants in San Francisco, Los Angeles, and New York serve fortune cookies, but not those in Beijing, London, or Sydney. Only Americans celebrate National Fortune Cookie Day. Only Chinese advertisements offer “Authentic American Fortune Cookies.”
Fortune cookies are a fun, simple example. But the same principle of comparing practices in different cultural settings can help us distinguish gospel culture. And now the Lord is opening new opportunities to learn gospel culture as Book of Mormon allegory and New Testament parable prophecies are fulfilled.
Everywhere people are moving. The United Nations reports 281 million international migrants. This is 128 million more individuals than in 1990 and more than three times 1970 estimates. Everywhere, record numbers of converts are finding The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Every Sabbath, members and friends from 195 birth countries and territories gather in 31,916 Church congregations. We speak 125 languages.
Recently, in Albania, North Macedonia, Kosovo, Switzerland, and Germany, I witnessed new members fulfilling the Book of Mormon allegory of the olive tree. In Jacob 5, the Lord of the vineyard and his servants strengthen both olive tree roots and branches by gathering and grafting together those from diverse locations. Today children of God gather as one in Jesus Christ; the Lord offers a remarkable natural means to expand our lived fulness of His restored gospel.
Preparing us for the kingdom of heaven, Jesus tells the parables of the great supper and wedding feast. In these parables, invited guests make excuses not to come. The master instructs his servants to “go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city” and “the highways and hedges” to “bring in hither” the poor, maimed, halt, and blind. Spiritually speaking, that’s each of us.
Scripture declares:
“All nations shall be invited” unto “a supper of the house of the Lord.”
“Prepare ye the way of the Lord, … that his kingdom may go forth upon the earth, that the inhabitants thereof may receive it, and be prepared for the days to come.”
Today those invited to the supper of the Lord come from every place and culture. Old and young, rich and poor, local and global, we make our Church congregations look like our communities.
As chief Apostle, Peter saw heaven open a vision of “a great sheet knit at the four corners, … wherein were all manner of … beasts.” Taught Peter: “Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons. … In every nation he that feareth [the Lord], and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him.”
In the parable of the good Samaritan, Jesus invites us to come to each other and to Him in His inn—His Church. He invites us to be good neighbors. The good Samaritan promises to return and recompense the care of those in His inn. Living the gospel of Jesus Christ includes making room for all in His restored Church.
The spirit of “room in the inn” includes “no one sits alone.” When you come to church, if you see someone alone, will you please say hello and sit with him or her? This may not be your custom. The person may look or speak differently than you. And of course, as a fortune cookie might say, “A journey of gospel friendship and love begins with a first hello and no one sitting alone.”
“No one sits alone” also means no one sits alone emotionally or spiritually. I went with a brokenhearted father to visit his son. Years earlier, the son was excited to become a new deacon. The occasion included his family buying him his first pair of new shoes.
But at church, the deacons laughed at him. His shoes were new, but not fashionable. Embarrassed and hurt, the young deacon said he would never go again to church. My heart is still broken for him and his family.
On the dusty roads to Jericho, each of us has been laughed at, embarrassed and hurt, perhaps scorned or abused. And with varying degrees of intent, each of us has also disregarded, not seen or heard, perhaps deliberately hurt others. It is precisely because we have been hurt and have hurt others that Jesus Christ brings us all to His inn. In His Church and through His ordinances and covenants, we come to each other and to Jesus Christ. We love and are loved, serve and are served, forgive and are forgiven. Please remember, “earth has no sorrow that heav’n cannot heal”; earth burdens lighten—our Savior’s joy is real.
In 1 Nephi 19, we read: “Even the very God of Israel do [they] trample under their feet; … they set him at naught. … Wherefore they scourge him, and he suffereth it; and they smite him, and he suffereth it. Yea, they spit upon him, and he suffereth it.”
My friend Professor Terry Warner says the judging, scourging, smiting, and spitting were not occasional events that occurred only during Christ’s mortal life. How we treat each other—especially the hungry, the thirsty, those left out alone—is how we treat Him.
In His restored Church, we are all better when no one sits alone. Let us not simply accommodate or tolerate. Let us genuinely welcome, acknowledge, minister to, love. May each friend, sister, brother not be a foreigner or stranger but a child at home.
Today many feel lonely and isolated. Social media and artificial intelligence can leave us yearning for human closeness and human touch. We want to hear each other’s voices. We want authentic belonging and kindness.
There are many reasons we may feel we do not fit in at church—that, speaking figuratively, we sit alone. We may worry about our accent, clothes, family situation. Perhaps we feel inadequate, smell of smoke, yearn for moral cleanliness, have broken up with someone and feel hurt and embarrassed, are concerned about this or that Church policy. We may be single, divorced, widowed. Our children are noisy; we don’t have children. We didn’t serve a mission or came home early. The list goes on.
Mosiah 18:21 invites us to knit our hearts together in love. I invite us to worry less, judge less, be less demanding of others—and, when needed, be less hard on ourselves. We do not create Zion in a day. But each “hello,” each warm gesture, brings Zion closer. Let us trust the Lord more and choose joyfully to obey all His commandments.
Doctrinally, in the household of faith and fellowship of the Saints, no one sits alone because of covenant belonging in Jesus Christ.
Taught the Prophet Joseph Smith: “It is left for us to see, participate in and help to roll forward the Latter-day glory, ‘the dispensation of the fullness of times … ,’ when the Saints of God will be gathered in one from every nation, and kindred, and people.”
God “doeth not anything save it be for the benefit of the world; … that he may draw all men [and women] unto him. …
“… He inviteth them all to come unto him and partake of his goodness; … and all are alike unto God.”
Conversion in Jesus Christ requires us to put off the natural man and worldly culture. As President Dallin H. Oaks teaches, we are to give up any tradition and cultural practice that is contrary to the commandments of God and to become Latter-day Saints. He explains, “There is a unique gospel culture, a set of values and expectations and practices common to all [the] members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” Gospel culture includes chastity, weekly attendance at church, abstaining from alcohol, tobacco, tea, and coffee. It includes honesty and integrity, understanding we move forward, not upward or downward, in Church positions.
I learn from faithful members and friends in every land and culture. Scriptures studied in multiple languages and cultural perspectives deepen gospel understanding. Different expressions of Christlike attributes deepen my love and understanding of my Savior. All are blessed when we define our cultural identity, as President Russell M. Nelson taught, as a child of God, a child of the covenant, a disciple of Jesus Christ.
The peace of Jesus Christ is meant for us personally. Recently a young man earnestly asked, “Elder Gong, can I still go to heaven?” He wondered if he could ever be forgiven. I asked his name, listened carefully, invited him to talk with his bishop, gave him a big hug. He left with hope in Jesus Christ.
I mentioned the young man in another setting. Later I received an unsigned letter that began, “Elder Gong, my wife and I have raised nine kids … and served two missions.” But “I always felt I would not be allowed in the celestial kingdom … because my sins as a youth were so bad!”
The letter continued, “Elder Gong, when you told about the young man gaining hope of forgiveness, I was filled with joy, beginning to realize that maybe I [could be forgiven].” The letter concludes, “I even like myself now!”
Covenant belonging deepens as we come to each other and to the Lord in His inn. The Lord blesses us all when no one sits alone. And who knows? Maybe the person we sit next to may become our best fortune cookie friend. May we find and make place for Him and each other at the supper of the Lamb, I humbly pray in the holy name of Jesus Christ, amen.

When your faith is questioned every day, you have to decide pretty quickly which side of the line you’re on. Allison McEwen of Houston High School says, “When I was younger and my peers questioned things, I doubted too. But by going to the Lord in prayer, I found the answers that made me stronger. After I found out for myself that the Church was true, their questions didn’t bother me anymore.”
As the student body president, Allison gets a lot of questions about Church. “I like to be different,” she says. “The Church is something positive that definitely puts me aside from the rest.” Even in the face of difficult questions from friends, she knows that the Lord is aware of her and is willing to help her find the answers, and that has been a great blessing.

My father was our bishop, but he died before I received the priesthood. I remember so clearly being ordained a deacon. A new world opened up for me. I was now living on a higher plane. As I would hear people say, “You hold the priesthood,” it was not easy to fully comprehend. But with humble teachers, we began to understand that as deacons we had been given blessings and authority to do sacred things.
As quorum officers we accounted for all of our members and would see that they were all at church. We enjoyed being together. We chopped wood for the elderly and the widows, filled the coal bins at church, cleaned the meetinghouse every Saturday afternoon, swept the steps, raked the gravel yard, saw that the sacrament trays and lace sacrament cloths were clean and fresh, and had real pride in the appearance of our little meetinghouse.
We were part of the Church and the Church was part of us. We knew it; we felt it! We held the priesthood of God! Understanding teachers guided us and helped us broaden our vision and our ever-expanding role as young men; but more important, they helped prepare us to be called in our youth to be servants of our Savior. He needs every one of you young men who hold the priesthood. I testify that this work is true. I do it humbly, in the holy name of Jesus Christ, amen.