I've read six of the seven Harry Potter Books to my children, and we just started in on the seventh. Just after the dedication of the seventh is a quote from William Penn that I felt encapsulated so deeply who and I what I care about as a person.
Death is but crossing the world, as friends do the seas; they live in one another still. For they must needs be present, that love and live in that which is omnipresent. In this divine glass, they se face to face; and their converse is free, as well as pure. This is the comfort of friends, that though they may be said to die, yet their friendship and society are, in the best sense, ever present, because immortal.
At the core of who I am as a person and the things I care about is friendship. There are other things, too, of course, but for me, friendship is it. It's the key. It's what makes everything worth doing. I might prefer to work alone, but that's only because when I'm with friends I have no desire to get things done at all. It takes a truly special friend to keep me focused on work when we're together.
The reason this quote came up again is becuase Natalie and I have been doing the mature responsible adult things and doing some estate planning which has included a potential funeral program. Woo! Such fun. I put this quote at the bottom of one page because it so embodies what I think and care about. Death is separation, not end. I say that knowing how hard it is to lose people, and how much I'm sure everyone I know will be devestated beyond belief at my own passing in 50 or more years. But the other quote I put on a page comes from the scriptures, it says this:
When the Savior shall appear we shall see him as he is. We shall see that he is a man like ourselves. And that same sociality which exists among us here will exist among us there, only it will be coupled with eternal glory, which glory we do not now enjoy.
This same sociality, to me, has always meant friends. The capstone, one of the last canonical entries in recorded scripture is that Heaven is being with friends. I believe greatly in the endless and eternal wisdom and mercy of God, our Heavenly Father. I believe that irreversible damange I've caused can be healed. I believe sins and mistakes can be washed away. I believe that the sickness and suffering of so many of life's ills can be healed, repaired, forgiven, or overcome. That doesn't pretend like bad choices never happened, but we can be made whole from them. Heaven is going to be the great reuniting of loved ones, mending of fences, water under bridges, forgivness, rejoicing, and wonderful, joyfully fulfilled society. In a word, it is Atonement through the mediator of the new and ever lasting Covenant, Jehovah. Jesus Christ. I believe in him as I believe in little else.
However, until that joyous day comes, I hope you'll hear me out on a request. Please, if you've stepped away from the Church of Jesus Christ, come back. If you've never been formally introduced to it, let me talk to you about my faith (with or without missionaries). Or at least think about it, and talk to me about it.
My high school and college years in Utah were blessed with smart, wonderful, insightful and kind friends. They put up with me inspite of my... me. Yes, I just gestured to all of me. I shared experiences of faith, sacred temple trips, and in some cases life changing conversations, sacred experiences, testimony and so many more things during that time. In the intervening years, society has made many good and appropriate changes, and in some ways has lashed out at things like "organized religion" or even Christ and his church.
And, to be clear, I get it.
I have discomfort with some elements of church history. I have ambivilance (see my long facebook post on the subject) about LGBT relationships and issues related to church doctrine, because I have so many dearly beloved friends, family and students in this camp. I have made serious mistakes and commited painful sins in my life and I can't imagine how awkward it could have been to have lesser men to repnt with and to than the ones I did. I've been fortunate enough to not be exposed to a wide variety of ills in my youth that have made it easier for me to not feel guilt or shame related to the commandments. I've also been free from major trauma from members of my family, ward, and so forth. I've been lucky to have (on paper) a pretty textbook LDS life that includes a mission, temple marriage, healthy children, formal education (at BYU no less), and so forth. I haven't faced the most brutal path to church activity. I get that there are many many many valid reasons why people distance themselves from the church. Sometimes it's culturally or politlcally or societal awkward. Sometimes it is lonely. Sometimes it is difficult. Sometimes, people do the whole discipleship thing wrong.
But knowing all of that, I want to extend an invitation to you. Talk to me. Let me hear what you have to say about why you're gone. Let me see if there a way I can convince you to come back. Consider facing whatever seemingly insurmountable challenges face you on your path to life in the restored church. Because, frankly, we need you.
I went through my facebook friends making this post. To the best of my knowledge, no less than 100 of you would describe yourself as some version of post-mormon, and many more might never have understood my faith very well at all. That's a lot. If I didn't think I was being preachy, I'd share initials, or send this personally (which I might anyway), or tag people. Becuase I'm in a calling right now where we are desperate for adults who are contributors. Not textbook perfect people. Not tattoo and piercing free puritans. Not ideal families. Not 1970s conservatives. Just you. Just how you are. My calling has led me to see over and over how important it is to have good people who show up and serve. Good people who have empathy for challenges. Good people who have stepped away for totally valid reasons and can share things that I cannot about what it looks like to come back. Good people who make sacrifices of good things in pursuit of that greatest thing.
Please come back. Please talk to me about what keeps you away. Let me at least understand you better. Let me hear that you read this and thought about it, and know that even if the answer is, "thanks for the invite, but no" know that I love you.
Last thing. There's a parable Jesus shares about a wedding feast and inviting poeple to come. (Great article on it here much better written than what I'm saying). It's in Matthew 22, and when the King sends out invites for the wedding feast, many make light of it, ignore it, or return to things that seem to be of greater consequence in the moment. I don't think that over the pulpit in conference this weekend, we're going to hear that Christ is coming next week, but I want to remind you, now and always, that I'm inviting you, and I love you. To me, heaven won't be heaven and my joy will not be full without the involvement of all people I love. I hope God in his mercy invites me and spares me, but I want to do all I can to bring and invite you too.
