CHARITY
We are pleased to have this opportunity to
speak to you today before we leave on our mission. Morris and I have been called to the Central
America Area where Morris will serve as the AMA (area medical authority) and I
will assist him and be involved in other church and service opportunities. This call has been a long time in coming, but
the time is finally here and we are very excited to go. We will live in Guatemala City but will also
have opportunities to serve in other parts of Central America. I will let Morris give you more details about
how our call about, what he will be doing as an AMA, and about our mission. As many of you know, Mark and LaFaunda Curtis
from our ward are currently serving in Central America and living in Guatemala
City. We are not replacing them but we’ll
overlap with them for about 4 months. Terry
and Sharon Smith from the Second Ward will be replacing them next April. It will be really fun to spend some time
with the Curtis’s until they return home and also the Smiths and the other
senior missionaries who are presently serving there. Our ward and Stake are being well represented
in Central America!
The bishop has asked us to speak today on the
topic of Charity. I can’t think of a
better topic to speak about right before leaving on our mission. The word charity comes to my mind when I
think about why we are leaving our wonderful children, 16 grandchildren, my 86
year old mom, extended family and friends and going on a mission at this stage
of our lives. There are many words,
scriptures and phrases which explain the meaning of this word. In Moroni 7:45-47 Mormon tells us that
“charity is the pure love of Christ.” It is because of our tremendous love for the
Savior and our gratitude for His Atonement and all he has done for us that we
want to serve Him in this way at this time.
Moroni also says that charity suffers long, and is kind and envies not,
and is not puffed up, seeks not her own, is not easily provoked, thinks no evil
and rejoices not in iniquity but rejoices in the truth. These are all
attributes I hope we can develop and acquire while on our mission. Other words and phrases that I think of to
define charity are – helping those in
need, unconditional love, brotherly kindness, tolerance, forgiveness, mercy,
compassion, generosity, loving thy neighbor as thyself, selflessness, self-sacrifice, patience, a pure
heart. Paul teaches us in Corinthians
that Charity excels or exceeds ever other attribute. He says, “Now abideth faith, hope, charity, these
three; but the greatest of these is charity.”
We are told that we must have
charity if we want to inherit the Celestial Kingdom. Ether 12:34 – “And now I know that this love
which thou hast had for the children of men is charity; wherefore, except men
shall have charity they cannot inherit that place which thou hast prepared in
the mansions of the Father.”
Elder Marvin J Ashton pretty well summed it
up when he said: “Charity is, perhaps, in many ways a misunderstood word. We often equate charity with visiting the
sick, taking in casseroles to those in need, or sharing our excess with those
who are less fortunate. But really, true
charity is much, much more. Real charity is not something you give away; it is
something that you acquire and make a part of yourself.”
Sister Elaine Dalton (former general YW Pres)
said, “We often think of charity as an action, but I think of charity as a
state of the heart.”
Example of
charity - Last June we had the opportunity to go with a local tour group to the
British Isles. While we were there it
was cold and rainy and windy most of the time.
Morris noticed that an older lady in our group had not come prepared for
the colder weather and did not have a jacket or coat, so he gave her his coat
which she wore throughout the trip. This
lady was from Texas and was traveling with her cousin who was also older. We didn’t know her, she was not a member of
the church, but this small act was so helpful and meaningful to her. We may ask, “Why would Morris do this? He ended up being cold during the trip, he
received no recognition, no one knew that he had done this except me and
probably the lady’s cousin. Morris did it because it is in his nature to
serve and show kindness and love to others. It is an attitude, an ingrained
part of his heart and mind, and was motivated because of his love for others and
sincere gratitude and love for the Savior.
In a General Relief Society Meeting a few
years ago, President Monson explained charity in some other ways we may not
have thought of, “Charity manifests itself when we are tolerant of others and
lenient towards their actions, when we forgive and are patient.” He said, “I have in mind the charity that
impels us to be sympathetic, compassionate and merciful, not only in time of
sickness and affliction and distress but also in times of weakness or error on
the part of others. There’s a serious need for the charity that gives attention
to those who are unnoticed, hope to those who are discouraged, aid to those who
are afflicted. Needed is the charity
which refuses to find satisfaction in hearing or in repeating the reports of
misfortunes that come to others, unless by so doing, the unfortunate one may be
benefited… Charity is having patience with someone who has let us down, it is
resisting the impulse to become offended easily. It is accepting weaknesses and shortcomings.
It is accepting people as they truly are.
It is looking beyond physical appearances to attributes that will not
dim through time. It is resisting the
impulse to categorize others." These are sometimes difficult things to do, but
are a part of being charitable.
How do we acquire charity? Our Conversion to Jesus Christ and His
atonement is the real key to developing charity. When we try to truly live the
gospel, come to understand and feel gratitude for the sacrifice our Savior made
for us and recognize the tremendous love He has for us, then we will want to
follow Him and become like Him. We will
want to love and serve others as He did.
Pres. Eyring explained that feelings of charity come from our Savior
Jesus Christ through His Atonement. He
said, “Acts of charity are guided by His example- and come out of gratitude for
His infinite gift of mercy- and by the Holy Spirit, which He sends to accompany
His servants on their missions of mercy.”
John Bytheway, a popular LDS speaker says, “Charity is three-dimensional:
it encompasses love for Christ, love from Christ, and love like Christ. In other words, to experience the pure love
of Christ means to feel Christ’s love for you, to love Christ purely yourself,
and to love others purely as Christ loves them.” Mother
Teresa said, “When you know how much God loves you, then you can only live your
life radiating that love.” Sherri Dew said, “When we turn our hearts to the
Lord, we instinctively turn to others.”
I would like to share another
example of charity that is very close to my heart.
Story -
A poor wayfaring man of grief once passed my path, as the song goes. It was December, 1945, in Mesa, Arizona. He rang our doorbell, and I peeked from behind my mother's skirt as she greeted him. He was lean and sandy haired, lank, so spent that he leaned against the porch rail as he explained he had not eaten for 3 days. I wasn't a bit surprised that mother unhesitatingly invited him in.
It was her way to offer the same hospitality to all who came to our house; no preference was shown to kin or stranger. All were welcomed in. She offered him a chair by the kitchen table while she prepared him a meal, our family's favorite, of macaroni and cheese. It was always amazing how my mother could learn someone's life history in a few minutes' time. She had a talent for setting people at ease, a talent for winning their confidence and making even casual acquaintances feel as if they were in the presence of a dear and trusted friend. Between wheezes and racking coughs the man spun his tale of woe. This was post-war America; jobs were scarce; he was a veteran, without work or family to help, and almost without hope.
I was only 7 years old that year, and not particularly wise or brave. I scurried to the other side of the house, somewhat mistrustful of our unexpected guest. Every few minutes, I would come just to the kitchen door to see if he was still there, then I'd go back to report the situation to my older sister.
When he had gone, my mother called for me to help. I could easily read the concern on her face. We had left our home in Hooper, Utah, to avoid the cold winter months. My mother had suffered from Rheumatic Fever as a child which had greatly damaged her heart. The doctors warned her that even a common cold could mean death to her. The man was obviously ill, and she had been exposed to his coughs. I helped her put a pan of water to boil on the stove and washed the dishes he had used while she washed the table, the chairs, everything he had touched with disinfectant. She scalded the dishes with boiling water before I dried them.
My mother lived every minute to its fullest with an abundance of love for life, and I knew she felt her life had been threatened.
That night when we were seated for dinner, my sister told my father about our afternoon guest. My father was distraught and lectured my mother about the unwise and foolish thing she had done, inviting him in and exposing herself to the very thing we had sacrificed so much to avoid.
As I listened, my mind and heart went out to my mom. Just a seed of great admiration that I had never before felt begin to grow within me, and with that admiration came an unusual peace that lasted all the way through the funeral and fearful days that followed. Within the week my mom had been hospitalized with pneumonia. Those moments I shared with her in the kitchen proved to be the last scene of her life for me. Even then I felt no remorse for what she had done. Rather, I felt a sense of wonder and awe that has since become the motivating force of my life.
The sermons my mother preached were never delivered in words, but in simple, humble acts of love. Even at age seven, I knew she acted out of a deep-seeded faith in the Savior. She had become so like him that feeding a hungry, friendless man, as if he were family, was only an extension of her nature. It has been said by the skeptical that my mother died that a homeless man, who would be hungry again by night, might have a meal. But it could also be said that in her last act of service she gave her life that her daughter might begin to feel in her heart the same love she bore for the Savior of the World.
I owe a great deal to that poor wayfaring man of grief who provided the means by which my mother bore her final testimony to me. He opened up the avenue for me to follow if I too would become like Christ. I am sure my mother's actions were unpremeditated; she did not set out that day to teach me a lesson; but I am just as sure that could she have foreseen the life-time effect her actions had on me, she would rejoice.
By the last experience we shared together she left me her witness that Jesus is the Christ. By her sacrifice she taught me the sweetness of that knowledge, that to come to this knowledge is worth every effort of our lives, even should we die to know Him or that our children might know Him, the sacrifice would not be too great.
This story was written by my Aunt Janice, my mom’s sister, about their mother or my grandmother. My grandmother passed away before I was born (my mom was only 15 when her mom died), but I feel that I know her because of the many stories that have been written about her and her acts of charity. She has set a great example for many generations to come.
Story -
A poor wayfaring man of grief once passed my path, as the song goes. It was December, 1945, in Mesa, Arizona. He rang our doorbell, and I peeked from behind my mother's skirt as she greeted him. He was lean and sandy haired, lank, so spent that he leaned against the porch rail as he explained he had not eaten for 3 days. I wasn't a bit surprised that mother unhesitatingly invited him in.
It was her way to offer the same hospitality to all who came to our house; no preference was shown to kin or stranger. All were welcomed in. She offered him a chair by the kitchen table while she prepared him a meal, our family's favorite, of macaroni and cheese. It was always amazing how my mother could learn someone's life history in a few minutes' time. She had a talent for setting people at ease, a talent for winning their confidence and making even casual acquaintances feel as if they were in the presence of a dear and trusted friend. Between wheezes and racking coughs the man spun his tale of woe. This was post-war America; jobs were scarce; he was a veteran, without work or family to help, and almost without hope.
I was only 7 years old that year, and not particularly wise or brave. I scurried to the other side of the house, somewhat mistrustful of our unexpected guest. Every few minutes, I would come just to the kitchen door to see if he was still there, then I'd go back to report the situation to my older sister.
When he had gone, my mother called for me to help. I could easily read the concern on her face. We had left our home in Hooper, Utah, to avoid the cold winter months. My mother had suffered from Rheumatic Fever as a child which had greatly damaged her heart. The doctors warned her that even a common cold could mean death to her. The man was obviously ill, and she had been exposed to his coughs. I helped her put a pan of water to boil on the stove and washed the dishes he had used while she washed the table, the chairs, everything he had touched with disinfectant. She scalded the dishes with boiling water before I dried them.
My mother lived every minute to its fullest with an abundance of love for life, and I knew she felt her life had been threatened.
That night when we were seated for dinner, my sister told my father about our afternoon guest. My father was distraught and lectured my mother about the unwise and foolish thing she had done, inviting him in and exposing herself to the very thing we had sacrificed so much to avoid.
As I listened, my mind and heart went out to my mom. Just a seed of great admiration that I had never before felt begin to grow within me, and with that admiration came an unusual peace that lasted all the way through the funeral and fearful days that followed. Within the week my mom had been hospitalized with pneumonia. Those moments I shared with her in the kitchen proved to be the last scene of her life for me. Even then I felt no remorse for what she had done. Rather, I felt a sense of wonder and awe that has since become the motivating force of my life.
The sermons my mother preached were never delivered in words, but in simple, humble acts of love. Even at age seven, I knew she acted out of a deep-seeded faith in the Savior. She had become so like him that feeding a hungry, friendless man, as if he were family, was only an extension of her nature. It has been said by the skeptical that my mother died that a homeless man, who would be hungry again by night, might have a meal. But it could also be said that in her last act of service she gave her life that her daughter might begin to feel in her heart the same love she bore for the Savior of the World.
I owe a great deal to that poor wayfaring man of grief who provided the means by which my mother bore her final testimony to me. He opened up the avenue for me to follow if I too would become like Christ. I am sure my mother's actions were unpremeditated; she did not set out that day to teach me a lesson; but I am just as sure that could she have foreseen the life-time effect her actions had on me, she would rejoice.
By the last experience we shared together she left me her witness that Jesus is the Christ. By her sacrifice she taught me the sweetness of that knowledge, that to come to this knowledge is worth every effort of our lives, even should we die to know Him or that our children might know Him, the sacrifice would not be too great.
This story was written by my Aunt Janice, my mom’s sister, about their mother or my grandmother. My grandmother passed away before I was born (my mom was only 15 when her mom died), but I feel that I know her because of the many stories that have been written about her and her acts of charity. She has set a great example for many generations to come.
The Savior taught his
disciples, ‘For whosoever will save his life shall lose it; but whosoever will
lose his life for my sake, the same shall save it.’ Pres. Monson said in explaining this
scripture, “I believe the Savior is telling us that unless we lose ourselves in
service to others, there is little purpose to our own lives. Those who live only for themselves eventually
shrivel up and figuratively lose their lives, while those who lose themselves
in service to others grow and flourish and in effect save their lives.”
I’m grateful for the opportunity we have to go on a mission at this time of our lives and to feel the pure love and joy that comes through serving others and our Heavenly Father. I'm grateful for our prophet and for his wisdom and guidance. I have great joy in my family and I love them very much! I love each of you and appreciate your support as we leave on our mission. This ward truly exemplifies the meaning of charity. I love my Heavenly Father and the Savior and am grateful for all Christ has done for me and for all of us. I say this in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
I’m grateful for the opportunity we have to go on a mission at this time of our lives and to feel the pure love and joy that comes through serving others and our Heavenly Father. I'm grateful for our prophet and for his wisdom and guidance. I have great joy in my family and I love them very much! I love each of you and appreciate your support as we leave on our mission. This ward truly exemplifies the meaning of charity. I love my Heavenly Father and the Savior and am grateful for all Christ has done for me and for all of us. I say this in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
