My Church Talk about Resilience - Extended Cut

 

Snow camp 

When I was a deacon or just barely a teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood, my scout troop went snow camping. I’m from southern Nevada. I had seen snow maybe 5 times, and in preparation, I received lots of advice on how to survive in it. My mom told me to put bread bags over my socks before putting them in the gore-tex boots my grandpa loaned me, boots he bragged were the best money could buy. 

On the mountain that night, we gave up on snow caves which was our original plan for shelter and we set up a tent, which became a snow cave as the snow continued to fall throughout the night. Our leaders slept in their trucks. I remember at some point, we all had to pee, and we all had different opinions about what to do. One guy did the right thing and put on his boots and his heavy winter coat and trudged out into the storm. One guy just unzipped the tent and let loose beside it. Another filled a gatorade bottle. I didn’t have a bottle, but I had a gallon sized ziplock bag, which, I kid you not, became just the heated pillow I needed to survive the night. 

Just when it seemed we had all finally gotten to sleep, our scoutmaster burst into the tent. “Boys, we just received word that the snow plows are coming for the last time this weekend and then the mountain will be closed for travel. We’ve got to go.” We scrambled to break down camp. I slipped my bread bags over my socks and fit them into my grandpa’s boots. The quorum advisor spoke some unclean language breaking chunks of yellow ice off a tent stake. As I walked toward the vehicles, more matter than I had ever seen in my life at one time pelted me in the face. I trudged on. The words of a hymn entered my mind:  

“Firm as the mountains around us, 

Stalwart and brave we stand 

On the rock our father’s planted 

For us in this goodly land… 

And we hear the desert singing 

Carry on Carry on carry on!” 

I am a descendent of pioneers. My ancestors cultivated swamps and deserts into paradises. They trudged bare-footed across icy rivers and desolate plains to establish Zion far away in the west. I would never give up. I was resilient. 

Then I realized something was missing. My foot, too small and extra slippery because of the bread bag had slipped out of my grandpa’s “best money can buy” boot and I had no idea where the boot had gone. I searched frantically. I dug through the never-ending and eternally progressing mound of snow around me. I blinked over and over as clumps of snow crashed into my face. I shook with cold, my toes ached. I gave up on the boot and crawled in the direction I thought the trucks were. I couldn’t move my fingers as I clawed forward in search of temporal salvation. Finally, I gave up. In tears that seemed to freeze directly to my face, I prayed for the earth to swallow me up. In my mind, the prophet Joseph blurred into view, standing in the window at Carthage Jail, “Oh Lord, My God.” he said.  

“Come here, Chandler," It wasn't Joseph. It was my scout master. "let’s get you in the truck.” He picked me up and carried me to the warmth of heated seats and a blast of hot air. 

Resilience, or “an ability to recover from or adjust easily to misfortune or change” is a Christ-like Attribute. Jesus’s life started with huge misfortune as his family became refugees fleeing the violent rule of King Herod. On several occasions, he met violent resistance to his message. On all of these occasions, he demonstrated resilience. Most profoundly, when even his father forsook him in the Garden of Gethsemane, he drank the bitter cup and finished the work that he was given to do. Christ overcame the great misfortunes of sin and death that befall all humankind. 

And we should emulate Christ. But sometimes I fear that in our desire as church members to be self-reliant, independent, or otherwise non-needy, we do ourselves and others a tremendous disservice. So rather than focus this talk on resilience alone, I want to focus on the human virtues of spiritual dependence and non-terminal failure. Both of which I believe are essential elements of true resilience. 

Spiritual Dependence 

I was a cocky teenager who thought little of his blue collar, minimally educated father. I was a state-champion debater and an accomplished trombone player. My dad was a calloused, college dropout who commuted for hard laborious work. But when I received my endowment and started attending the temple, I realized, astonishingly that he was a super-genius. Every time we went through the Las Vegas temple, he knew everything to do and say with exactness. I was always being corrected and always relying on temple workers to remind me the words to repeat in the ordinance. Dad flew by every stage of the endowment like it was nothing. And I was honestly kind of embarrassed. How was he so good at this (and seemingly nothing else)? I asked him on a drive home. 

What he taught me is an insight into the plan of salvation. After your first time, the very purpose of temple attendance is for some of God’s children to help others of God’s children do things they cannot do on their own. Far more of God’s children will receive their endowment this way than will complete that work in mortality. And the help you receive in the process (and my dad made clear to me that even he needed help occasionally) is part of the great lesson of the temple: That salvation is an interdependent affair. 

As children of God, we are spiritually dependent. The savior calls on us to come unto him, to take his yoke upon us, and find rest. We each receive the ordinances of salvation by the hand of others who bear priesthood authority. The varied circumstances of our birth necessitate that the privileged make sacrifices to clothe the naked, feed the hungry, and care for the sick and imprisoned. The diversity and inconsistency of spiritual gifts requires that we hide not our candles under a bushel, but instead give our light freely to those around us. And as fulfilling as it is to be on the giving end of each of these transactions of dependency, it is equally important that we recognize that, and in what ways, we must be on the receiving end. 

• How many times have you signaled your ministering brothers and sisters that you or your family is pretty low maintenance, or otherwise deflected their desire to sustain you? 
• What questions about the gospel and how to live it do you have that you feel embarrassed to ask? 
• How many needs do you have that you have trouble describing exactly or that would be awkward and weird to put into words? 
• How are you letting the desire to appear self-reliant get in the way of finding real strength in interdependence with the saints? 

If none of those questions apply to you, maybe you have strong structures of support already in place or maybe you are already totally comfortable asking for help and depending on others. If that’s the case though, consider those that you are called to serve. Maybe they are not as spiritually self-reliant as they let on. Call upon the gift of the Holy Ghost to learn how you can better serve them. 

As Paul taught the Corinthians, we are all different parts of the same Body of Christ. We need each other to stand and lift and speak, and walk through the gates of salvation. In other words, the virtue of resilience is a community effort. 

Non-Terminal Failure 

One thing that people complain about when they talk about resilience is that people, especially young people, are quitters. People are quitting their religions. Students are dropping out of college. Missionaries are coming home early. It’s quitting chaos out there. 

And some of the most inspiring examples to me in the scriptures are indeed ones where disciples of Christ refuse to give up, even in the face of extreme opposition. 

Take for example the first chapter of the Book of Moroni, 

“I make not myself known to the Lamanites lest they should destroy me. For behold, their wars are exceedingly fierce among themselves; and because of their hatred they put to death every Nephite that will not deny the Christ. And I, Moroni, will not deny the Christ; wherefore, I wander whithersoever I can for the safety of mine own life." (Moroni 1:1-3) 

To quit a positive cause is to fail. It is a sin of omission. It is a giving in to the natural man. But the doctrine of Jesus Christ is the gospel of redemption. The entire purpose is to redeem us from our failures, our sins, and our flesh. To fall is human, to rise is divine. Consider this quitter from the New Testament, and a redemption just as powerful as Moroni’s resilience. 

“Simon Peter saith unto them, I go a fishing. They say unto him, We also go with thee. They went forth, and entered into a ship immediately; and that night they caught nothing."

And you know how it went after that. Christ asked Peter twice if he loves him, and twice he commanded him to feed the sheep. 

Then 

“He saith unto him the third time, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? Peter was grieved because he said unto him the third time, Lovest thou me? And he said unto him, Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee. Jesus saith unto him, Feed my sheep.” 

And quitting Peter became the powerful prophet so vital to the cause of Christianity. 

There are also times when quitting is necessary for our progress. These are times when you, like the Anti-Nephi Lehites, must bury your weapons of war for peace. Or the things you give up because “it is not requisite that [you] should run faster than you have strength.” And they will vary from person to person. 

Sometimes, we even need to quit things that God ultimately wants for us. 

In Liberty jail, the Lord comforted the prophet Joseph. 

“My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment; And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes.” (D&C 121: 7-8) 

Ironically, part of what the saints needed to do to “endure it well” was to quit Missouri, the land where the Lord revealed he would establish Zion. But because of the the Atonement of Jesus Christ, the failure of the saints to safely remain in Missouri and establish Zion, and the failure of the Anti-Nephi Lehites to protect themselves, and the failure of the Nephite civilization to endure, and the failure of the disciples of Christ to avoid persecution and martyrdom, and the failure of your mission buddy to stay in the field, and the failure of your adult children to stick it out in college, and your failures, Brothers and Sisters are non-terminal failures, and they are part of your bumpy, tragic pathway to salvation. 

Yes. It is important to do everything we can to stay on the strait and narrow path, but remember that the s-t-r-a-i-t path means that it is narrow, not that it is direct. And the twists and turns of life will be different for each of us. 

Snow camp 2 

After that snow camp where I begged God to kill me and then my scout leader dragged me to heated salvation, I had one stipulation for the Lord when I put in my mission papers: Please don’t send me anywhere with snow. I received my call to serve in the Nebraska, Omaha mission. There I learned to waddle through the snow and drive in it and see miracles in it. I also got addicted to, and then in a moment of repentant rage, destroyed hundreds of dollars of Magic the Gathering trading cards. I spent hours walking around hoping we wouldn’t see anyone to talk to. I had bitter, work-halting disagreements with companions. I had nights where I may not have physically fled the field, but I did give up, and days when I accomplished nothing as a result. But I also witnessed first hand the gift of tongues, prophesy, revelation, visions, healing, interpretation of tongues, the miracles of forgiveness, covenant of baptism, and the grace of God that makes Kings and Queens out of quitters. 

I believe that resilience includes reliance on others and that God will work with us no matter how far we stray. 

I believe in Jesus Christ and that through him our burdens can be made light. 

Carry on.