Meeting Prophets and Other Great People

A Sunday School lesson last week got me thinking, perhaps particularly as it followed my sharing one of my stories only a week or two before. Since I didn't share my thoughts in that Sunday School class, and I have some thought-exploring to do on the subject, I thought I'd write in here.

I was just about to start with the first story of shaking hands and speaking to one, but I think I'll back track a bit. Since some might count such as memorable/noteworthy, I'll begin further back when I was first in the same room as a prophet. This would be Ezra Taft Benson when I was a teenager. He came to Fort Collins for a regional conference. My family and I were in the nosebleed section, but I did see him, and there did seem to be something special when he came in the room, but perhaps not quite as extraordinary as I'd been led to expect from the excitement of the adults at church. It was still a good experience. I love Pres. Benson. He said a lot of things during his time as prophet that greatly impacted my life in good ways, particularly his encouragement to read and study the Book of Mormon. But these talks were from general meetings that I either watched on the TV or at a church building. I don't remember what he said in Fort Collins.

We also had a handful of general authorities come to stake and regional conferences when I was growing up, I'm sure. The only one I really remember was Jacob De Jager who was a funny, clever Dutch man. I remember he talked about one of his first callings, perhaps the first, to pass out hymn books before sacrament meeting and how important that calling was. He also shared a lot about Jacob 6 in the Book of Mormon--"O be wise. What can I say more?"

When I went to BYU being in the same room as a prophet greatly lessened in rarity as we had firesides just about every month with either one of the First Presidency or Quorum of Twelve speaking. Occasionally it would be another authority, but quite often it was one of them. And if it was less than I remember, that would be because there were also frequent visits to our Tuesday morning devotionals by general authorities. I almost wrote lessened in significance, but that would be wrong. These events were highly significant to my growing testimony. I don't remember everything they said, but there are several talks that really hit a chord for me, answering prayers and questions that I had at the time. For example, I remember Pres. Hinckley talking about having a positive attitude and being optimistic at a time when I was struggling with depression. I remember Elder Oaks talking about what it means to judge people, defining it crisply and clearly. I remember Elder Scott looking into the cameras in such a way that he seemed to be looking right at me (from discussions with my peers after, I know many had this same impression), talking about God's love, about keeping a journal, about scripture study. And of course, there were plenty of talks about the importance of dating and marrying well.

As one of the firesides I attended was one given by Pres. Howard W. Hunter. This was while Pres. Benson was still the president of the church but was so ill, it was expected he would die soon and Pres. Hunter would become the president soon. This was the fireside at which a crazy man stormed the podium with a bomb threat (turned out, as we learned later, it was just a briefcase of books), trying to get Pres. Hunter to read his message instead of the one he'd planned. Pres. Hunter refused. The auditorium was first filled with tension, surprise and tears of worry, but it was soon taken over by the spirit as angels began to sing and the audience picked up on it, singing hymns. I don't remember what the hymns were, but it was either I am a Child of God or We Thank Thee O God for a Prophet--or perhaps both. I just remember the Spirit. When the situation was handled and the bomb-man evacuated, Pres. Hunter picked up and talked eloquently about handling adversity--so perfect.

One might think these experiences of hearing these great men speak would be sufficient to secure my testimony. And it probably was, but I was still blessed again.

While I was at BYU, I worked at the Special Education Seminary as a janitor, then an editor and miscellaneous helper, and then as secretary. This godsend of a job brought me a few other opportunities. One was a special CES fireside--not the big ones they've had since, just a relatively small one for employees in a regular chapel. At this time, Pres. Henry B. Eyring was the Church's Commissioner of Education, and he was the keynote speaker. So being at this fireside, I got to hear him speak in a relatively small room compared to those I'd experienced thus far with general authorities. Of course, at the time, he wasn't a prophet, but I do remember being very moved and impressed by the Spirit from his talk.

The second opportunity the employment provided was the opportunity to meet Pres. Boyd K. Packer. (Elder at the time) One of the teachers at the seminary was Pres. Packer's grandson, John, a very humble and sweet young man. Of course once I found out he was single and a prophet's grandson, my interest piqued a bit more, but to no avail. He soon was dating and then marrying another one of the teachers, Jody, a sweet girl. I did, however, receive an invitation to their reception, which was in either in the grandson's parents' or in Pres. Packer's backyard. (I don't remember). I do, however, remember very well that I drove up to Salt Lake with one of my friends from the seminary, a teacher who also happened to be my next-door neighbor, Wendy McNair. We were both a bit intimidated, but we mustered the courage to go over to the corner of the lawn where we could see Pres. Packer standing so that we could talk to him and shake his hand. He was very polite and kind. That's what I remember of the meeting itself, but more importantly, I remember that from that point all the way back to Provo--so an hour or so, I felt the Spirit so strongly, it was amazing. Nothing else could explain the feeling of peace, love, and light that I felt on that drive home. It couldn't be confused with being in love with anyone--there were no eligible men there that I remember. It was just amazing, one of the best short experiences of my life.

A couple years later as I was preparing for my mission, Satan worked pretty hard on me with feelings of depression, discouragement, and doubt. I can't say that I looked back on that meeting to push me through. I don't remember that, at least. But I pushed forward, got myself into the MTC in spite of it all, and even in the midst of it. That is, the MTC, too, had its challenges.

Once again, I was in an environment with fairly frequent visits from general authorities. I don't remember much about what they said or who all came other than one. Pres. Hunter signed my mission call, but since he didn't live long once called, Pres. Hinckley had become the president of the Church while I was waiting to enter the MTC.  And yes, he came to visit us. Being a popular prophet, there was a lot of buzz and excitement surrounding his visit. But my district was a little more blessed than some in that not only did we get to hear him speak --in the same room for those to whom that is significant--but it also so happened that we were out front when he was leaving the premises, so, along with a fairly large handful of other missionaries who were out, we gathered round to shake his hand.

If you know me, you might know that I'm not a fan of crowds. Too many people is overwhelming to me. But it wasn't until years later that I realized this was part of my personality. I was just down and struggling with my mood and so many things. In the hubbub, I pushed my hand through to shake the prophet's hand, which he obliged, but somewhat reluctantly as, I suppose, it probably seemed to him a disembodied hand--he couldn't tell whose it was. I stayed standing there afterward though, perhaps a bit dumbstruck or not sure what to do with myself. I'm not sure. As the crowd thinned a bit, he looked into my eyes but didn't say anything. I thought he was probably wondering why my hand wasn't extended, too, or perhaps he was wondering if mine was the disembodied hand. I don't know. But it was a very awkward moment. I didn't feel the Spirit at the time let alone for an hour afterward. I just felt very foolish.

I believe that some others in that crowd, though, did have the experience I'd had with Pres. Packer a couple years prior as there was quite the buzz in our classroom for what felt like days afterward with the elders in my district nearly squealing with excitement about shaking the prophet's hand. Their giddiness made me smile, but inwardly the shame continued. And in fact, more than 22 years later, yes, last week in Sunday School, when the question came up about meeting a prophet, this experience resounded in my head. Why didn't I feel the Spirit when I shook not just a prophet but THE prophet's hand? Was it because I was a bad missionary? because I wasn't supposed to be on a mission? Or something else?

Well, I don't know how to define "bad" missionary. I certainly wasn't perfect, but I wasn't going out of my way to break rules or commandments purposely either. And I'd had a handful of experiences and blessings to confirm I was supposed to be on a mission. So that leaves something else. Then what? Here is where my thought-exploring comes in.

1. Obviously not everyone has an overwhelming experience of the Spirit whenever they meet a prophet or even the prophet, president. If that were the case, there would be tons more people joining the Church. This understanding is helpful, I think for a lot of people--so they don't judge others or themselves.

2. The prophet isn't Jesus. He's His mouthpiece, true, but the prophet is still a mortal man. Perhaps Pres. Hinckley wasn't exuding the Spirit as much at that time, like perhaps he'd had a bad day.

3. Perhaps I wasn't as pure of a vessel as I'd been 2 years before. Back then, my purpose was not to shake Pres. Packer's hand so I could go back home and tell everyone about it. Of course, it's not that I wanted to do that with Pres. Hinckley either, but perhaps I was fighting against the idea of joining the crowd. I couldn't be seen not shaking his hand, but I wasn't anxious to go shouting out that I'd shaken the prophet's hand either. And where's the middle ground? I don't know---I might tend to get all kinds of confusing feelings when there are crowds, too many people. So, maybe it was just a personality thing.

4. Perhaps it was an experience to confirm the Spirit I'd felt when I shook Pres. Packer's hand--affirming that those feelings were not something I could generate on my own. That is, if ever I would want to feel the Spirit after doing something, wouldn't it be when shaking THE prophet's hand? But I couldn't make myself feel it, so when I felt it before with Pres. Packer, it wasn't because I was making myself, because I wanted to feel that way.

There are probably other reasons to consider that I haven't come up with, but I think this is a good start if not conclusive. I think I wanted to share this in Sunday School, but, as you can see, it's a bit complex for a simple comment. Nonetheless, I do hope people understand some of the principles, particularly in light of the questions that led to this pondering in Sunday School. Who are the noble and great ones? What does it feel like to meet one?

Some other commenters in class, I believe, helped with this too by pointing out that the noble and great ones are not just the prophets and apostles. Those who hear the voice of the Lord and follow it, who don't harden their hearts, are the noble and great ones. That could be you. I hope it's me. They are women and men and children, Blacks, Whites, Yellows, and everything in between. They are nursery leaders and maintenance workers, as well as leaders and teachers. God needs all of us.

I'm grateful to live in a time when prophets are once again on the earth, when the fulness of the gospel has been restored, and I know that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is Jesus's true church on the earth. I am so grateful for his leaders, their worthiness and ability to help me understand God's will. I'm also grateful for my callings, my friends, my family members, and all the people God uses to touch my life. In Jesus' name, amen.