Ministering Talk given 7/29/18

Here is the text of a talk I gave on 7/29/18:

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Soon after Sister Stewart-Longhurst and I started courting, we were amazed to discover that we both had ancestors in the Martin Handcart Company.  We don’t know if they knew each other, camped together, or anything.  But we are amazed that they were both there.

My ancestors were the Robinson’s.  Solomon, a buff young 21-year-old, and his sister, 19-year-old Elizabeth.  They joined the church in England and left behind their parents and life to come to Zion.  And, they ended up with the ill-fated Martin Handcart Company.

I have Elizabeth’s life history and it details out her hardships on that trek.  Starvation, exposure, exhaustion.  She did make it to the Salt Lake Valley.  At one point, after being rescued, her feet were so badly swollen and black from frostbite, that they wanted to amputate both legs at the knees.  Elizabeth absolutely refused to let them do such a procedure.  She was quite stubborn!  I do not admit to having her stubbornness!  And from her faith in the healing power and from being nurtured tenderly by those that served her, her feet healed.

Solomon was not so lucky.  Just days after being rescued, he succumbed to exhaustion, starvation and exposure and is buried three miles north of South Pass.

Several years ago, we visited Martin’s Cove.  There in the visitor’s center was a large plaque with the names and ages of all the pioneers along with a note as to who had not survived.  We eagerly looked for our ancestor’s names and found them.  As I read through the names, I noticed that Solomon was not the only young buff 21-year-oldish male that perished.  Many, in fact MOST, men in that age group did not make it.

I pointed that out to a missionary that served there, and he said that was correct.  He told me that these young pioneers were the ones that worked the absolute hardest.  They were the first ones into camp, and then would run back on the trail to help someone else’s handcart.  They would pull their own handcart across the icy rivers, then cross back again and again to help the others, sometimes crossing four or five times.  When food ran short, they gave up their rations to those more in need.  When it snowed and became cold, they gave up their coats to those that were ill.  They were the ones that gathered firewood in the snow and built the fires and put up the tents when the other pioneers were exhausted.  They served and served and served and served until they literally collapsed.

I was touched by the story and had yet a new appreciation of my ancestor, Solomon Robinson.

I recently studied a bit on the Willy Handcart Company.  They were in the same circumstances as the Martin Handcart Company, only the Willy Company was a few days ahead.  When the rescuers found them, they were at the base of Rocky Ridge, a steep rocky trail up over a mountain.  The rescuers believed the company was too exposed there and needed to move to a place 12 miles up and over Rocky Ridge in Rock Creek Hollow.  So, off the pioneers went, pulling their handcarts in knee deep snow, up and over that steep ridge.  It took them 27 hours to go the 12 miles.  Perhaps you have seen the paintings of the handcart pioneers in the snow depicting this event.

I want to share with you the story of Archibald McPhail, one of the many pioneers who pulled a handcart up Rocky Ridge that day.

“Archibald McPhail was the leader of his tent and was put in charge of several single women.  After they made the difficult journey over Rocky Ridge and into Rock Creek, Archibald noticed that one of his single sisters was missing, and he went back to look for her.  He found her sitting on the other side of Strawberry Creek.

“He pleaded with her to come on, but she refused, saying she was going to stay there and die.  There was nothing to do but cross the stream and get her.  He picked her up and as they crossed the stream the ice broke and he was soaked with icy water to the waist.

“By the time he reached camp, his clothes were frozen to him and he was taking heavy chills.  The air was cold and wet, and the men were so weak and hungry they could not go in search of dry wood to make a fire.  Without anything warm to eat or drink, he was placed in a cold bed with the covering of a handcart pitched over him for a tent.  There was a strong wind blowing which blew it over three times, and they stopped trying to keep it up.  He was in high fever, and his daughter Henrietta sat by his bed brushing the snow from his face as he lay dying.”

(“The Second Rescue” by Susan Arrington Madsen, page 71)

You may think that these are great pioneer stories, and they are.  But they also are real stories of ministering to others.

At the last General Conference, our new prophet, Russel M Nelson, essentially called every single one of us to be ministers.  Elder Holland then explained what this meant in the next talk and said:

“… we should mature personally as well—individually rising above any mechanical, function-without-feeling routine to the heartfelt discipleship articulated by the Savior at the conclusion of His earthly ministry. As He prepared to leave His still-innocent and somewhat-confused little band of followers, He did not list a dozen administrative steps they had to take or hand them a fistful of reports to be filled out in triplicate. No, He summarized their task in one fundamental commandment: “Love one another; as I have loved you. … By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.”

That is the perfect definition of ministering, “love one another.”

I have been the recipient of ministering and I’ll always remember that day.  I was raised on a cattle ranch in Southeast Idaho.  We raised about 100 head of cattle and had a fairly substantial hay operation during the summer, so the cattle would have feed in the winter.  One summer, right in the middle of haying season, my dad got really sick.  The doctor diagnosed him with a severe kidney infection and grounded him to his bed.  He could not work for a long time.  We had hundreds of bales of hay out in the fields waiting to be brought in.  I was about 12 or so and my brother was a year younger.  There were things we could do to help, but bringing in all that hay was above our level of ability

Early one morning, we heard the clatter of dozens of old farm trucks driving up our driveway.  Every brother in the entire branch that we attended had come to put up our hay!  They had set aside their own work to do so.  One of the men did not have a hay operation and showed up with a pitch fork!  I remember the others making a bit of fun of him.  The brother just grinned and winked at me.  Later we all watched in amazement as this buff man would jab a hay bale in the side with his pitchfork and heave it up over his head and into the hay truck.  As a young boy, I thought that was about as cool of thing I had ever seen!

Just before noon-time, another bunch of dozens of cars pulled up the driveway.  Here were all the wives and children.  They took over my mom’s kitchen and fixed a huge feast of a lunch for all of us.  They then cleaned up and went back home while the men returned to the fields.

By nightfall, every single bale of hay had been brought in and put in the haystack.

I remember that my dad was emotional that night.  He was grateful for the help, even though he hadn’t specifically asked for it.  And more than anything, our family felt loved by our branch members who so freely ministered to us.

I have never forgotten that day.

In Luke 10 we can read about the Good Samaritan.  I’m sure you all know the story.  A man fell among thieves.  Several well-to-do people passed him by and did not help him.  A Samaritan, who was considered the least of those that passed, stopped, treated his wounds, and took him to an inn.  He paid the inn keeper to care for him.  This is another great example of ministering.

I recall a recent talk given by our Mission President back home just a few weeks before we came out into the mission field.  He talked about how he and his wife were traveling across the mission and came across a lady hitch-hiking on the interstate.  The spirit told both of them to stop and help her.  He almost didn’t because picking up hitchhikers is clearly against the mission rules and may not be safe.  But the spirit spoke loudly, so he took the next exit and went back to help her.

Once she was in the car, they found out that she was recently homeless and had been visiting a very ill friend.  And she was interested in the gospel!  They gave her a Book of Mormon and set her up with their best Elders.  They provided her new clothes and food and helped her find shelter.  By following the spirit, they were able to minister to and help a completely needy stranger.  Yet another great example of ministering.

Last Tuesday night, most of were able to watch the pioneer movie “Ephraim’s Rescue.”  Sister Stewart-Longhurst and I watched it with new eyes as missionaries.  Many parts had a more significant meaning to us than the other previous times we had watched it.  One particular part is where Ephraim Hanks was called in the night by who he believed may have been one of the three Nephites to go and rescue the handcart people.

“Ephraim!  The handcart people need your help.  Will you go?”

Of course, he did go.

In many ways, we felt we were called to serve this mission almost in the same way.  Our call did not come via letter from President Nelson.  It first came directly from the spirit as we sat in the Celestial Room of the Portland Temple.  The spirit told us both at the exact same time that we MUST serve a mission RIGHT NOW!  We began preparations immediately to come out into the mission field, and here we are.

We left behind our business, our home, our children, and the most adorable grandchildren in the entire world!  But the blessings we are receiving are immense as we minister here in this ward.  Our business is actually doing better with us here than when we were home.  I’m not sure what this says about our business skills!  Our home, which we left vacant, is protected.  Our children are thriving as are our grandchildren.  Thank goodness for Skype!

The past week or so, Sister Stewart-Longhurst and I have discussed what it means to “prosper in the land.”  This phrase is used many times in the Book of Mormon.  “If you keep my commandments, you will prosper in the land.”  I’ve always thought it meant temporal wealth.  But as we discussed and studied it, we concluded that it also includes an increased blessed posterity, a spiritual growth, and even a climate change so crops can thrive.

As we minister here in this ward, we as a couple are experiencing “prospering in our land”.

As we visit those who are “missing” in this ward, we are amazed at the spiritual strength we see.  We try to teach them to pray, but they already pray.  We try to invite them to read daily from the Book of Mormon, but they already do.  They have pictures of Jesus and of the temple on their walls.  They have family home evening and even watch General Conference on TV.  However, they are scared to set foot in this very room, this sacred chapel of the Lord.  They are scared they will hear or see something that will embarrass them.  They are scared they will be judged by other ward members.  They are scared they will be made fun of.  They are scared they will be asked to do something they aren’t comfortable doing.

Of course, we try to teach them and help them come to church regardless.  We come to church for three main reasons.  To partake of the sacrament.  To worship the Lord.  And to serve others.  We don’t come to be entertained or to attend a social event.  We come to serve.

Sister Stewart-Longhurst and I learned this the hard way.  Just over two years ago, we thought we lived in the most perfect ward in the world.  Everything always went right!  We loved it there.  In fact, Sister Stewart-Longhurst had lived in that ward for over 20 years and had raised her children there.

One Sunday we came to church and notice not one, but TWO Stake Presidents sitting on the stand!  They announced that they were changing a small part of the ward boundaries and that five families, including the Stewart-Longhurst family, would start attending a smaller, struggling inner-city ward.  They told us we would be providing much needed leadership.

The next Sunday, we cautiously wandered into our new church building and ward.  We were a bit scared and not sure we wanted to be there.  We were greeted immediately with “we don’t need your leadership here!”  Our first thought, which we didn’t say but felt like it, was “trust me, we don’t want to be here either!”  The Relief Society sisters were cranky to Sister Stewart-Longhurst.  She found herself volunteering to substitute in nursery, so she wouldn’t have to go.  And our son, who was really excited to prepare for his mission, found that no one had served a mission in this ward in 17 years!  And we were told we couldn’t talk about a mission because it may offend those boys who chose not to go!

We grumbled all the way home.  And we moped around and felt sorry for ourselves for several weeks.  We pondered how we could get out of this and somehow go back to our old ward.

But then the spirit rebuked us!  And we concluded that this ward experience would be whatever WE made it out to be.  We decided to serve and love them with all our might, mind and strength, regardless of what we got back.  As we did so, we fell in love with the members of that ward.  And as we left them two months ago to serve this mission, we really struggled emotionally.  It was really hard to leave that ward family because we had grown to love them oh so much.

Now, I think they are still cranky at times.  And they are on Facebook with me still and I see them still posting things that occasionally offend me.  But it doesn’t matter.  I love them.  It doesn’t matter.

I invite each one of you, including us missionaries, to do a self-evaluation and ask our selves how we are doing in our new calling as ministers.  Each of us can improve in some way.  Are we willing to go back after those that were left behind?  Are we willing to give of our food to those that are hungry?  Are we willing to sacrifice even our own lives, just like these great pioneers did, to make sure our neighbors are well?  As Latter-day Saints, we covenant to do just that.

When new people come into this sacred chapel either to return to activity or to investigate, let’s not judge them based on what vice they smell like or how many tattoos they have or their financial status or their political beliefs and how they vote.  Lets just love and serve them and minister to them.

I promise that as you do so, this ward and each one of you individually will prosper in the land.  You will receive more temporal blessings than you’ll know what to do with.  Your children will desire righteousness.  The spirit will abide in your home and your home will be a place of refuge.  You will be kept safe and protected from the calamities that are taking place outside right now this very minute.

As an ordained minister of the Gospel and a set apart representative of Jesus Christ himself, I leave this blessing and promise upon you.  In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.