Paradox perceiving Peter and the Priesthood

I have a lot of favorite figures from the scriptures because of what their stories have come to mean to me. Some of my choicest blessings have come from seeing that I am not alone in the challenges I face. And while I could literally spend hours talking about more than a few people from the scriptures--Abraham, Moses, Job, Alma, and Ammon, I want to spend some time reflecting on someone I've had a soft spot for in my heart as of late.

I came across a talk by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland titled The Lengthening Shadow of Peter when I was looking for something completely different a few days ago. I've read it a few times through, and it has given me a much-needed change of perspective about quite a few things in my life.

Elder Holland begins be recanting Spencer W. Kimball's reaction to someone who decided to be critical of Peter. That anyone could  be critical of Peter was rather surprising to me, I'll admit. Apparently there was a minister that took it upon himself to condemn Peter for denying Christ three times. It never occurred to me that Peter could be blamed for such a thing, and with Elder Holland's most recent General Conference talk about the Savior, we can't be certain of what exactly was taking place in those final moments of the Savior's life in regards to His apostles. But it just goes to show you that no matter how hard you try for no matter how long, someone will still manage to find fault with you. If it happened to Christ and to Peter, I shouldn't be surprised when it happens to me.

What stood out to me after that was the image of Peter that Elder Holland describes. A man full of charity that is not content to tell his brothers and sisters to be healed, but lifts them from the ground and walks beside them towards a new life. A powerful teacher of thousands, an impressive learner who was prepared quickly to the tasks ahead of him, who did not stop to question "Can I actually do this?" because there simply wasn't time. A man that thirsted after and thrived to become a true disciple of Christ, and could envision nothing less for his life. So much so, he wept bitterly at the thought that he had failed in offering the fullest sacrifice of his heart.

The weight of Peter's tears has resonated with me deeply, and because I know something of their weight I feel as if I've made a new friend in the scriptures. Someone I cannot wait to see again, should I be counted worthy and blessed to be among the righteous who will rise to such great heights in the last day. A man of great personal integrity and leadership with whom I feel much kinship because of all that I've faced, and hope to continue to face in the name of my God, for it is an honor indeed to be called to suffer in the name of Jesus Christ.

I wrote a poem about the tears of Peter, and I'm most grateful for the thoughts, feelings, and understanding that came to me in that moment of quiet contemplation. You can find it here.

You'll recall that I excitedly shared that I might be attending the Hill Cumorah Pageant in Palmyra, New York a few posts back. To my disappointment, and even a bitter frustration, I discovered that there were no arrangements to be made that could possibly get me to Palmyra. Having prayed about that trip, I figured that I wouldn't face opposition for such a righteous desire. What could be better than wanting to go to the Sacred Grove and gain a witness of the most important revelation of modern Christendom? What could be better than to be in the only place I know of (outside of the temple) where Heavenly Father and His Son have stood together on the earth?

It's only just now that I have understood my answer to that plea.

I've been given an opportunity to attend a YSA conference in Scranton, Pennsylvania that will involve a trip to Harmony to the Priesthood restoration site. When I still had my eyes single to that journey to Palmyra, I wasn't willing to consider the Scranton conference as an alternative.

But understanding, even in a small portion, what I now do about having the Priesthood, and the men who brought it to the earth again, I can honestly say that I've been humbled and count myself as blessed to share in this experience that has been prepared for me.

Peter would have argued that his worth was nothing in comparison with Christ, and that's why he is Cephas, Petros, the rock upon whom Christ's church was built. I have much to learn from his example, and I pray that I might someday be even half the disciple he was.

Count to 10 Paradox

Part what I've been striving to understand this summer is the reality and power of Jesus Christ and His Atonement. I've seen again and again how He has taken my most threadbare efforts and woven them into a great tapestry of being, helping me to be secure and warm in the truth of His Gospel.

I found a talk recently called Jesus Christ--Our Master and More by Elder Russell M. Nelson. Even though I've heard it before, I decided to sit down and actually take notes on what Elder Nelson had to say about Christ. In it, he talks about the titles and responsibilities of Christ that helps me to understand more of what my role as a Christian is. I would encourage everyone reading this post to take the time to read and listen to His talk. The spirit of truth that Elder Nelson bears is sweet indeed.

Paradox on the Sacrament

I was sitting on the stand in Sacrament Meeting yesterday because I was singing with my bishop’s wife and a few other girls from my ward. I relish any chance I can get to sit there because I’ve always had the distinct impression that the stand is closer to heaven in ways that are difficult for me to describe. I’ve borne my testimony enough times and given enough talks to feel the difference between the pulpit and other places in the church building. Yesterday was certainly no exception.

I was sitting quietly in my seat, preparing to partake of the Sacrament with a prayer.  I began to think on the symbolism of the Sacrament, and certain aspects of it that are difficult for me to understand. I began to council with the Lord again about something that has long been on my mind. I wanted to know how it was possible for redemption to come from death and suffering—why it was necessary. I guess I find it easy to think “Be it far from thee, Lord: this shall not be unto thee,” as Peter did when he found out that Jesus Christ was to die such a gruesome death. Christ’s rebuke of Peter should be enough to tell me that I’m wrong, but it’s an idea I still struggle with.

But as I was sitting on the stand, it occurred to me that the bread of the Sacrament is a lot like the seed mentioned in Alma 32. Since the bread represents the life and teachings of Christ, it also represents the Word, which is the seed mentioned in that chapter. And upon seeing that the bread is the seed, it would make sense that water (the blood, suffering, and death of Christ) would have to follow in order to make the seed grow.

And while it is true that the seed must swell, crack open, and die in a sense, the death of a seed is only the smallest piece of a larger, infinite perspective. Partaking of the Sacrament each week with a penitent heart is the equivalent of beginning a new sowing season. Only through actively sowing and reaping can we truly cultivate the peacefulness that is a well-kept inner vineyard.

Thinking about rebirth from that perspective, the death of old habits and beliefs doesn’t seem so tragic. If anything, the ability to truly cast off the smallest seed shells of identity in exchange for greater opportunities and growth has got to be the greatest gift I’ve ever received from anyone…

…and continue to receive.