Man Must Hope



Moroni buries the plates

Life is made up of mostly mundane, routine, everyday stuff, isn’t it? Sleeping, eating, working, commuting. Homework, yardwork, schoolwork, paperwork. Small talk. Hitting ‘snooze.’ Feeding the dog. Taking out the trash. Watching TV.

But of course, life is also seasoned with experiences and moments that are unforgettable, right? Milestones, vacations, goals, family time, you name it. Lots of great stuff, some of which will endure, literally, forever. Some of my favorite, best remembered moments in life are conversations I’ve had. Friends, family members, coworkers, bosses—those conversations can come from anywhere, be shared with anyone.

Some of the conversations I cherish most? Discussions about spiritual, important things, especially with close friends and family. I remember discussions I had with teachers 35 years ago, with fellow missionaries and Church members and curious investigators 25 years ago. I’ve had memorable talks with friends and co-workers throughout my life. My favorites are those I have with family—and some of the greatest are those I’ve had with my parents.

I remember great lessons they taught me when I was just a little kid—for example the one about the spirit and body, in which Dad used a pen and pen cap to illustrate. I remember talks about Joseph Smith’s life and death. And of course, talking about Jesus; His life, parables, and the atonement. Some great conversations—and the great thing is that we can still have these conversations, and do, every time we get together.

I have been lately pondering the conversations Moroni might have had with his father, Mormon. We have a few epistles and chapters in the Book of Mormon to give us a pretty good idea of what they spoke about. With the thought of those wonderful conversations as a backdrop, I’d like to ponder for a moment the writings of Moroni.

Consider the lives that Moroni and Mormon led. They saw their loved ones, their families and friends all killed. Mormon was finally murdered by a civilization which delighted in wickedness as vile as you can imagine—including human sacrifice and cannibalistic torture. Mormon’s life’s work—compiling and editing the history of two great civilizations—was cut just short, and his son Moroni was charged with its completion.

Mormon and Moroni spent years on the run, as two of the last twenty-four living Nephites. Moroni spent at least two decades alone—the last Nephite, in hiding after his father’s death. Etching carefully into metal plates, abridging Ether’s record, adding his father’s epistles and teachings, he avoided the hunting enemy. If anyone ever had reason to sorrow, it was Moroni. He wrote of his father being slain in battle, of the death of his friends and kinsfolk, of his not knowing whither to go or how long the Lord would let him live.

We know he lived like this for at least another 20 years. I can hardly think of a life more heartbreaking and traumatic. Five times, Moroni seems to end his record, bidding us farewell, ending his writing with the customary ‘amen.’ But five times, he continues that record, adding an epistle, a thought, an invitation, or a warning. Moroni had decades—decades—to think, ponder, and pray, completely alone.

He was visited by Christ. He wrote of those whose faith was so strong, things “could no longer be kept without the veil.” I imagine Moroni had faith of that nature. His writings on faith, charity, spiritual gifts, miracles, the atonement, the power of the Holy Ghost, and becoming perfected in Christ are some of the greatest ever recorded. But to me, there is one topic he and Mormon wrote about that might be most notable.

He wrote prolifically of hope.

In fact, more than two dozen times, Moroni speaks of hope. Moroni’s writing (less than fifty pages), has about as much teaching about hope as the other 480 pages of the Book of Mormon combined! A man who was left to wander alone, his family and friends all murdered by those that pursued him, gives us some of the most beautiful, uplifting, hope-filling words ever taught! (It’s also worth mentioning that the hunted, forsaken Moroni also wrote beautifully about hope’s close cousins, faith and charity).

Some examples:

   “But because of the faith of men he has shown himself unto the world, and glorified the name of the Father, and prepared a way that thereby others might be partakers of the heavenly gift, that they might hope for those things which they have not seen. Wherefore, ye may also have hope, and be partakers of the gift, if ye will but have faith” (Ether 12:8-9).

   “… I would speak unto you that are of the church, that are the peaceable followers of Christ, and that have obtained a sufficient hope by which ye can enter the rest of the Lord, from this time henceforth until ye shall rest with him in heaven” (Moroni 7:3).

   “Wherefore, if a man have faith he must needs have hope; for without faith there cannot be any hope” (Moroni 7:42).

   “… pray unto the Father with all energy of heart, that ye may be filled with his love, which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ; that ye may become the sons of God; that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is; that we may have this hope; that we may be purified even as he is pure. Amen” (Moroni 7:48).

   “… because of meekness and lowliness of heart cometh the visitation of the Holy Ghost, which Comforter filleth with hope and perfect love” (Moroni 8:26).

   “… thou hast prepared a house for man, yea, even among the mansions of thy Father, in which man might have a more excellent hope; wherefore man must hope” (Ether 12:32).

There are so many amazing doctrinal and inspirational truths in the last fifty pages of the Book of Mormon. I believe it is even more meaningful when you consider those pages also contain undoubtedly the most harrowing descriptions of circumstances found in the Book of Mormon—these great prophet-historians lived in the worst of times, yet had strong faith and the sweetest of teachings.

The message of hope is even more significant when you consider the definitions of the word itself. Currently, Merriam-Webster defines hope as “to cherish a desire with anticipation” and “to desire with expectation of obtainment” and “to expect with confidence.” However, looking at the meaning in the 1828 Webster’s Dictionary is probably more descriptive and accurate, as these would have been closer to the meanings revealed to Joseph Smith as he translated the work.

The 1828 dictionary adds “confidence in a future event; the highest degree of well-founded expectation of good; a desire of some good, accompanied with at least a slight expectation of obtaining it, or a belief that it is obtainable That which gives hope; he or that which furnishes ground of expectation, or promises desired good. An opinion or belief not amounting to certainty, but grounded on substantial evidence.”

That’s a lot deeper, isn’t it? There’s also another point made in the 1828 version. “Hope differs from wish and desire in this, that it implies some expectation of obtaining the good desired, or the possibility of possessing it. Hope therefore always gives pleasure or joy; whereas wish and desire may produce or be accompanied with pain and anxiety.”

Read that last part one more time… Hope always gives pleasure or joy, whereas wish and desire may produce pain and anxiety. One might imagine a woeful, depressed, broken Moroni, clinging to life and sanity. Reading his writing, and considering the true meaning of one of his favorite topics, we get the real picture. Moroni was full of faith, hope, and charity, working on becoming perfected in Christ, loving his brethren and inviting us all to come unto Christ. If Webster’s was right, in 1828, Moroni was full of joy, not hate, fear, or self-pity. He was full of hope!

If you’re not quite convinced, take five minutes and read the last two and a half pages of the Book of Mormon—Moroni’s last words to us. Read about faith, hope, charity, despair, love, grace, spiritual gifts, gratitude, good, truth, sanctification, and rest. While he exhorts and challenges us, he does it with a sense of joy and love and hope for us as he bids his final farewell.

A last note about the power of these last chapters of the Book of Mormon. In late June, 1844, Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum, along with a couple of Apostles of the early Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, were headed to yet another jail on yet another trumped up charge. As they traveled, Joseph told his companions, “I am going like a lamb to the slaughter; but I am calm as a summer’s morning.”

That day, his brother Hyrum read to him from the Book of Mormon, presumably to comfort his brother and their companions. Hyrum read from Ether Chapter 12, in which Moroni is bidding farewell to the Gentiles, praying to the Lord to give them grace and charity. Hyrum read the comforting, ultimately prophetic verses, then turned down the corner of the page to mark the verses which he read. Two or three days later, Joseph and Hyrum were murdered by a mob of 150 to 200, shot to death in an Illinois jail (see Doctrine and Covenants 135).

How inspiring and humbling it is to think about this amazing cycle of spiritual connection. I imagine Joseph Smith, twenty years earlier, laboring to translate the records, learning of men like Mormon and Moroni. I see him reading their very prophecies of the coming forth of the Book of Mormon, and I envision Mormon and Moroni learning of how the record and Christ’s restored Church will come forth. I envision Joseph reading and preaching from the scriptures, teaching others, seeing their conversions through the words of this powerful book.

And then I imagine Joseph Smith, being torn yet again from his family, and imprisoned yet again by conspirators and mobsters. I can see Hyrum and Joseph reading in their last hours on Earth from the book they helped bring forth, which would bless countless lives for eternity. And I expect they, like Moroni and Momon, were once again filled with hope, comfort and joy.

Life is hard for us all, at some time or another. We face challenges; some of us will even have trials similar to those faced by Moroni and Mormon—losing family or friends, finding ourselves alone. Perhaps that is why their message is so meaningful to so many—they endured the unthinkable. I’m grateful for their sacrifice and their teaching. Even more, I appreciate the sacrifice, teaching, and love of Christ, the source of all good gifts, who did endure all things so He could comfort us. I appreciate His encouragement and belief in us. Through Him, we can experience that same comfort and joy… and hope.

Moroni was right... Man must hope.

Do as the Lord Has Done



I like to mark my scriptures as I read them. Some might say I go overboard, marking entire pages of particularly meaningful passages. But if I feel like marking something or jotting down an insight, cross reference or quotation, or even pasting a small note in between pages, I’ll do it.

I know some people have a marking ‘system,’ perhaps highlighting a certain topic in one color, words from the Savior in another color, gluing themed paper tabs to the outside of papers, etc. I don’t have a system, but there is one pattern I’ve unintentionally followed that has proven to be a real blessing in my life—for the almost thirty years that I’ve had this particular set of scriptures.

What is that pattern? I’ve tended to use the same pen and/or pencil in my scripture bag, until I lose it or wear it out. Typically, I’ll use it for a few years before swapping it out for something else. The blessing here is that I can tie marked passages or insights to a time in my life—the purple pencil years, the blue ink-pen-that bleeds-through years, the black-ballpoint-pen era, and so on. (Although, to be fair I think I always have a smudgy red pencil kicking around because that is still the dominant color in my scriptures!)

I received my scriptures from my parents almost thirty years ago. They are a beautiful blue leather set, a richer color than the navy ones typically sold today. The cowhide is also more supple than the samples I now see on store shelves, but of course that may be due to years of carry and use. The edges of the pages are a shiny silver that has all but worn off. The original bookmarks have torn away, and the two-and-a-half blue ribbons that remain to keep my place are ones that I have added over the years.

Altogether, there are a half-dozen distinctive colors that I’ve used at specific, specially remembered times—pages and passages that had particular meaning as I went through a specific chapter in my life. It is enlightening to reminisce and tie a marked insight to the challenges and blessings I experienced at that time.

For example, as I served as a missionary for two years in England, I’d occasionally use a different colored pencil to highlight passages, but I almost always made notes with a fine-tipped black ballpoint pen. Recognizing my handwriting in that ink brings back awesome memories of England!

I broke those new scriptures in while taking a New Testament Institute class. I deeply studied the Book of Mormon the following year as I moved to Utah and attended BYU. I put those scriptures to good use, studying while using a red pencil to highlight verses, and scribbling notes with the aforementioned blue pen that bled through just a little too much. The bad news—those red blotches and bled-through patches are a little, well, blotchy and bled through. But the good news? I can see what stood out to an eighteen-year-old me as I really dug into the scriptures for perhaps the first time.

 This week, I was again studying Christ’s visit to the people of the Americas shortly after His resurrection. 3 Nephi 27 has a handful of navy scribbled stars, a half sheet of paper I glued in during my mission days, and markings in every color. What jumped out at me though, are two notes I scribbled to myself as an eighteen year-old preparing to be a man, and in particular trying to understand the responsibilities of preparing for a mission.

Those two statements are “Do EVERYTHING in Jesus’ name” and “Do as the Lord has done.” Those notes are next to verses 7 and 21. While I don’t remember writing those notes, I perfectly remember the blue pen that made them, the one with the little metal tab broken off from the cap. And I remember reading the Book of Mormon intently as I tried to learn if God really existed, and if He really wanted me to go on a mission. And I remember the deal I made with God and with myself.




As I finished the Book of Mormon that fall, probably just weeks after writing those two statements to myself, I knelt and prayed, preparing to ask God if the Book of Mormon was really true. I knew that if it was, there was no question on whether I would serve a mission. As I knelt in the almost pitch-dark basement bedroom that night, I just couldn’t ask the question. I knew with my whole body and soul that the Book of Mormon was true, that Joseph Smith had translated it through the power of God, and that Christ’s primitive Church was again on the earth.




Some particularly well-marked pages

I felt that asking God if it was true would be like looking into the clear sky on a summer day and asking if the sky was blue, and if the sun was real. It would be absurd to ask—it was all staring me right in the face. The Holy Ghost told me the truth much more clearly than the sunny day would have told me the answers to the other questions. I had a tearful moment of gratitude and humility as I thanked God for His love and His witness. I gratefully, excitedly promised to keep up my end of the deal and serve a mission.

To back up a bit though, I would not have had that experience if I hadn’t spent a year or so re-reading the Book of Mormon, trying to seek the Spirit, asking God to help me understand what I read, pondering those things and applying them. As an 18 year-old, the power of the Book of Mormon inspired me to try to do everything in Jesus’ name and to do as the Lord has done.

Now I am sure as I worked and studied and goofed around that year, I did many things the Lord didn’t do, and were not worthy of His name. But the scriptures motivated me to think about and consider things of the Spirit. I remember being a little more careful about who I spent time with at that age, and I recall being more mindful of the music I listened to and the movies I watched. I wasn’t perfect—I was an 18-year-old punk in a lot of ways—but the power of the word of God helped me try to be more like Christ in small and simple ways.

The scriptures contain the word of God. For an interesting study session, go to LDS.org and search the scriptures for “power of the word,” and see the dozens of scriptures that show all the things that have been done by the power of the word of God. It is impressive and interesting to note that the same power by which the world was made will also help one eighteen-year-old make a small positive change in his life.

One could write volumes on what it means to do everything in Christ’s name and to do as the Lord has done. Here is one way I see that happening. As a young man, I always felt a distinctive difference when I walked into the chapel, no matter what else was going on. If I was playing ball or at a dance or skateboarding off the stage in the gym, if I walked into the chapel to cut across the building to go home, or went through it to make sure doors were locked, I felt like that was Christ’s chapel. There were just some things you didn’t do and some things you’d always do in the chapel. I’d quit dribbling the basketball, I’d lower my voice, I’d quit running and walk quietly through that chapel. I realized later that feeling was the Holy Ghost telling me this place was different—that this is where we worship the Savior.

To me, those statements in verses 7 and 21 are like that chapel personified. There are just some things you don’t do and some things you always do if you have associated yourself with the Savior, if you are doing things as His follower and representative or disciple, if you are striving to do what we know He has done.

I won’t write those volumes—not today anyway. But I will testify that when the Lord inspires me, through the Holy Scriptures and the Holy Ghost to make a change, He gives me power and support and confidence as I try to do as He has done. And though I know I can never be exactly like Him in this life, those experiences keep me progressing and trying and repenting and getting on track again, working towards perfection. Those two scribbled reminders, bleeding through the pages, are more applicable today than ever, helping me stay on the narrow path to the Savior.

How grateful I am for those scriptures, and for the Spirit’s ceaseless teaching!