Category: Uncategorized

  • The Hearts of the Fathers

    The Hearts of the Fathers

    I always thought about the mission of Elijah (turn the hearts of the fathers to the children and children to the fathers) from my perspective, as one of the “children.” I hadn’t thought about it from the other perspective.

    What happened when Christ preached to those who had died? He talked of His gospel and returning to heaven which was predicated on their baptism. This likely caused a stir amongst the dead. You can see the shudder through the countless number, “Baptism? But how can we be baptized without bodies?” Then Christ explained temple work, vicarious baptisms for the dead, and that they could be saved by their progenitors, their families. Imagine the excitement this caused.

    Those who Christ preached to had been dead for hundreds, some for thousands of years. When was the last time they’d thought about mortality? Did they think about mortality? Had they moved on? Like someone who has a vacation in Mexico but returns to their home, had they settled back into “life” amongst the dead and slowly stopped thinking about mortality? 

    If they had settled back into death, this news from Jesus Christ surely made them re-focus their attention on the living. 

    What then transpired? Did they begin ministering to their living loved ones? Were they sent out to influence the living? Were they ushered out to beg spiritually for help to be saved? 

    I’d always thought about how our hearts here on earth were turned to our dead loved ones when Elijah came and instituted the keys of the sealing power. 

    I hadn’t thought about how the hearts of the dead turned back to us and what that looked like. 

    Love. 

    Love and sacrifice and covenants bind us. 

    We, without them, cannot be made perfect. They, without us, cannot be made perfect. 

    Our ancestors laid the entire foundation for all that we have. Whether we want to give them credit, blame them, or forget them, we can’t deny that we are where we are and we are who we are because of them. 

    It’s amazing to see the modern-day genealogical work being done in the world and particularly amongst the saints. 

    We are creating a bonding link, a welded connection back to Adam. I don’t know exactly how, but this keeps the world from being smitten with a curse. 

    I believe it has to do with love. It has to do with connection. It has everything to do with why we’re here and what we’re meant to learn. 

  • Story of Compassion

    Story of Compassion

    *This is from a true story I read 4 years ago that I can’t find the source for now.

    There is a story of a person named Om whose mother was killed when he was a young child. After his mother was killed, Om was shipped off to another country. There he was held and kept by the very people who killed his mother.

    Om lived in captivity like this for twenty years, mistreated, and kept by those who murdered his mother. At the age of twenty-four he was shipped back to his home and allowed to be free. Twenty years he was with the people who killed his mom and held him against his will.

    One of those captors tried to befriend Om. This person’s name was Marc. Marc wasn’t directly responsible for Om’s suffering. Marc wasn’t the one who killed Om’s mother. But Marc was still one of them. Marc was the enemy.

    The people directly responsible for the murder of Om’s mother told Marc to be careful around Om. Om hated them all and would kill Marc the first chance he got. 

    Over time Marc started to befriend Om and Om did not attempt to kill Marc.

    While in captivity, Om developed a close relationship with a young child. This friendship was one of the few joys Om had in his difficult life.

    One day Marc slipped and startled the young child that Om was so fond of.

    Three female chimpanzees charged at Marc over his mishap and started to bite and attack him.

    As Marc was being attacked, he saw Om charge toward them. Om was furious. Surely Marc was going to pay for startling Om’s precious young one. Om’s time of revenge had finally come. He was going to kill Marc.

    To Marc’s surprise, Om fought off the three female chimpanzees and kept them at bay while Marc crawled to safety. Marc made it to a hospital and barely survived.

    Here was Om, whose mother had been taken from him and his life destroyed by the people Marc represented. Om could easily view Marc as the ultimate evil. And yet, over time, they had become, if not friends, at least friendly.

    Om stands for Old Man.

    You’ve probably figured out by now that Om is a chimpanzee.

    What can we learn from Om?

    We humans consider ourselves so smart, so intelligent, far removed from the beastly chimpanzee. Here is a creature, an animal, a beast, who could show so much forgiveness that he would save a man who represented the destruction of his life.

    We humans might immediately point to the lack of intelligence in Om as the reason behind his forgiveness. “If he really understood the situation, as we humans do, he wouldn’t be so quick to forgive.”

    What if the opposite is true? What if it is a sign of Om’s intelligence that he was able to forgive?

    Om showed compassion and forgiveness.

    While we are human and chimpanzees are beast, we can learn something from Om.

    The next time you find it difficult to love, or forgive, or understand, remember Om, a chimpanzee capable of great compassion.

  • Salt of the Earth

    Salt of the Earth

    In studying the scriptures, it can be beneficial to have an understanding of the cultural background of those people and situations we read about. I recently read something that added a whole new perspective to the phrase “salt of the earth.”

    Matthew 5:13 reads

    “Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted? It is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men.”

    3 Nephi 12:13 reads

    “Verily, verily, I say unto you, I give unto you to be the salt of the earth; but if the salt shall lose its savor wherewith shall the earth be salted? The salt shall be thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out and to be trodden under foot of men.”

    I don’t know about you, but when I think about salt the first thing I think about is taste. Especially when the word “savor” is used. But this is NOT what those hearing these words come from the source (Jesus Christ) would have thought about.

    In using the metaphor of us being “the salt of the earth”, with my understanding of taste, I would think about being a representative of the gospel to help it “taste” good to others. That by seeing the way I live, others can see that the Gospel is good. Another thought that comes to my mind about salt is its preservative properties. This metaphor could be looked at as those who are the salt of the earth conserve and preserve the Gospel, keeping it active and alive.

    How would the ancient Israelites and inhabitants of ancient America have viewed this metaphor? Turns out, the primary purpose of salt to these cultures would have been its ability to impact the smell of sacrifices.

    The commentary I read stated:

    “When sacrifices were offered upon the altars of ancient Israel, the Israelites did not give the Lord the flesh of the animal, the fruit of the ground, or the ashes or smoke of such sacrifices. The acceptable part of the offering presented to the Lord was the smell, ‘a sweet savour unto the Lord’ (Leviticus 1:17). (Many translations have the word “aroma” in the place of “savour”). In the Bible, the word savour most often refers to the pleasant smell of burning sacrifice in the temple. To ensure that the smell would be sweet, the Mosaic law required that the offering be liberally sprinkled with salt.

    “The scent of an unsalted burnt offering would be the stench of scorched flesh. But if the meat were generously salted, the odor would be quite different, ….. due to the reaction of the salt upon the cells that compose animal flesh. Under high-salt conditions, cellular fluid rapidly escapes the cells to dilute the salts outside cell membranes. ………When accentuated by heat, these fluids cause a sweet savour to emanate….

    “In this context the charge to be the ‘salt of the earth’ takes on marvelous significance. The Lord said, ‘I give unto you to be the salt of the earth; but if the salt shall lose its savour wherewith shall the earth be salted?’ (3 Nephi 12:13). The Savior’s audience no doubt understood the law of Moses and the close connection between salt and acceptable sacrifice (emphasis added).

    “It is clear that under the new covenant the followers of Christ, as “salt,” are responsible for extending gospel blessings to the whole earth. “When men are called unto mine everlasting covenant,” the Lord explains, “they are accounted as the salt of the earth and the savor of men” (D&C 101:39). It is our privilege and blessing to lovingly lead our brothers and sisters to Christ, helping them receive their covenant blessings. As we do so, we become the figurative salt that makes it possible for them to offer the acceptable sacrifice of a broken heart and a contrite spirit. In addition, our own covenant sacrifice of time, talents, and means is pleasing to the Lord.”

    The commentary concludes with this statement:

    “So how do we become the salt of the earth? The Apostle Paul points out that charity is a key to this process: “Be ye therefore followers of God, as dear children; And walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us, and hath given himself for us an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet smelling savour” (Ephesians 5:1-2).

    This gives the analogy of salt of the earth a whole new meaning.

    Without the gospel of Jesus Christ, and those keeping the covenants of God on earth, there is no acceptable sacrifice on the earth.

    I’ve written before about the One True Church and why it’s important. Our covenants are important.

    Malachi 4:5-6 reads

    Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord:

    And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers, lest I come and smite the earth with a curse.

    Modern revelation gives us more insight into this curse.

    D&C 128:18 reads

    the earth will be smitten with a curse unless there is a welding link of some kind or other between the fathers and the children, upon some subject or other—and behold what is that subject? It is the baptism for the dead. For we without them cannot be made perfect; neither can they without us be made perfect. Neither can they nor we be made perfect without those who have died in the gospel also; for it is necessary in the ushering in of the dispensation of the fulness of times, which dispensation is now beginning to usher in, that a whole and complete and perfect union, and welding together of dispensations, and keys, and powers, and glories should take place, and be revealed from the days of Adam even to the present time.

    We are the salt of the earth. We are the enabling welding link, through the power and priesthood of Jesus Christ Himself, that allows the sacrifices of this world to be of any worth, of a sweet savor, to God Almighty.

    What a beautiful and powerful responsibility. What a calling. Without the gospel our sacrifices are for naught. Our covenants are important.

    We must be the salt of the earth to save it from the curse, to make our sacrifices acceptable to God, to link ourselves to our past generations, and to one day come before God, having fulfilled our salt-like duties. To preserve, save, and help the earth on its eternal trajectory. What a sobering an humbling thought.

    As I always say, I am grateful for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I am grateful for the priesthood attached to it. I am grateful that we can help in God’s glorious plan.

  • Walking into Darkness

    Walking into Darkness

    As we start a new year, I was pondering on a simple but powerful concept.

    Have you ever noticed that if you walk into darkness, with light at your back, you can’t see anything?

    On the other hand, if you walk into light, the room is clear.

    What an analogy for life.

    I was trying to do this one time back in our condo. I was walking into darkness, with the light from the open blinds on the balcony at my back. It was a perilous journey. I was risking a turned ankle at every step. Those with toddlers will understand. Of course, I couldn’t just turn on the lights, that’s for wimps and quitters.

    On my way back through the condo, heading toward the light from the balcony, I could see clearly where I was going. It was like night and day (pun intended).

    This made me reflect on how much of my life I spent walking into darkness. I spent so much time not knowing where I was headed. I had stuck my head into the ground akin to an ostrich and didn’t want to think about why I’m here and where I was going. It was a long journey to turn myself around, re-orient my journey, and start walking toward light.

    Now I feel like my life is better illuminated. I have a feel for where I’m headed, I can see the pathway. Those days of walking into darkness, unsure and afraid of every step are (slightly) behind me. There are always moments of hesitation and wonder about what’s next. But when you choose to make God a part of your life, in my experience, every step starts to feel like a step towards light.

    As 2026 starts, if you feel lost, confused, uncertain, afraid, or all the negative emotions this life bombards us with, I invite you to turn to God and walk in the light. It is one of the only defenses we have in this life full of thistles.

  • Is Roseto, Pennsylvania Zion?

    Is Roseto, Pennsylvania Zion?

    There was an extraordinary thing happening in Roseto, Pennsylvania in the 1950s. I read about it in an awesome book called Outliers by Malcom Gladwell.

    Roseto, Pennsylvania was an outlier when it came to heart disease. For some reason, instances of heart attacks and heart trouble in Roseto were shockingly different than anywhere else.

    In the 1950s, heart attacks were the leading cause of death in men under the age of 65 (Outliers, p. 6).

    In Roseto, nobody under 55 had heart attacks. Roseto had half as many people with heart trouble over 65 compared to any other area studied. This included next-door cities and towns.

    What’s fascinating about this is that this phenomenon apparently had nothing to do with genetics, diet, or any other seemingly obvious reason. There was no obvoius indicator of why a whole community would be free of heart trouble.

    Heart trouble wasn’t the only thing missing from this community. A sociologist was brought in to study the community. His name was John Bruhn and he said, “There was no suicide, no alcoholism, no drug addiction, and very little crime. They didn’t have anyone on welfare. Then we looked at peptic ulcers. They didn’t have any of those either. These people were dying of old age. That’s it” (Outliers, p. 7).

    What made Roseto unique, then?

    Finding no pattern, those doing the study had to look at anything different about Roseto to try to explain this phenomenon.

    This led to a primary theory. That primary theory behind why Roseto, Pennsylvania residents didn’t suffer heart trouble or many other common diseases had to do with their community.

    Roseto had an old-fashioned way about it in the 1950s, even compared to the standards of its day. The residents of Roseto were primarily Italian-American immigrants. The standard in Roseto was to live at home as long as possible, take care of one another, and generally live a more laid-back and communal way of life. A young man would stay at home and take care of family. If he lost a job, it was okay. The community would often try to keep shortcomings like a lost job secret so as not to create any embarrassment. Kids would take care of parents. Parents would take care of kids. The community took care of each other. It was a family-focused, close-knit community.

    “(Researchers) learned about the extended family clans that underlay the town’s social structure. They saw how many homes had three generations living under one roof, and how much respect grandparents commanded. They went to mass at Our Lady of Mount Carmel and saw the unifying and calming effect of the church. They counted twenty-two separate civic organizations in a town of just under two thousand people. They picked up on the egalitarian ethos of the community, which discouraged the wealthy from flaunting their success and helped the unsuccessful obscure their failures” (Outliers p. 9, emphasis added).

    The fact that Roseto residents had such low instances of heart trouble revealed a potential connection between community relationships and social support to reduced stress and heart disease. The community of Roseto appeared to buffer its inhabitants from the stresses of life.

    This got me to thinking.

    What is Zion? What is the perfect society? What will it look like? What will it be like, practically speaking?

    “…the Rosetans had created a powerful, protective social structure…” (Outliers p. 9).

    Will Zion be a community that goes to church together? A community that stops to talk to each other? A community that continues to live under one roof with their direct family as long as possible? A community where equality reigns? A community where spontaneous cookouts in front yards are common?

    This sounds like Zion to me.

    It’s fascinating that a community basically shielded itself from the stresses of a fallen world by living by these principles. I believe these are God-given principles: fairness, love, community, support, unity – that’s what makes Zion.

    “When presenting (the researchers’) findings at many medical conferences where their peers were presenting long rows of data arrayed in complex charts and referring to this kind of gene or that kind of physiological process, and they themselves were talking instead about the mysterious and magical benefits of people stopping to talk to one another on the street and of having three generations under one roof….No one was used to thinking about health in terms of community” (Outliers p. 10).

    This Christmas season, as I’m inevitably considering the state of our world and where we’re headed, I can’t help but wonder: is it this simple?

    Community, family, support. People supporting people, people uplifting one another, communities looking out for each other. Neighbors waving hi. People engaging with those in their community. Ministering. Fellowship. Is it that simple? Would that fix our world?

    I think it would. I think this is primarily what is missing from our modern-day societies. Love thy neighbor. How about say hi to thy neighbor?

    This holiday season, aim to light the world. Start by dropping off cookies at a neighbor’s house. It might save you from a heart attack.