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Editor's Note: This is an opinion piece published in 2017 and represents the thoughts and experiences of one black Latter-day Saint. Read the Church's 2013 essay "Race and the Priesthood" to learn more.
The first section of this lesson talks about President Hunter’s personal example of being charitable or loving. He was an attorney, and he was known for putting people before profits and help before an accounting of time. His concern was that people got what they needed, not that they were charged what he was owed.
History classes for most of us were all about world events or the history of the country we lived in while church history was only learned, well, in church. But we never really put them together. When you place these two timelines side by side, you may be surprised to find out that Brigham Young sent the first transcontinental telegraph message the same year that the Civil War started, or that the first latter-day Quorum of the 12 was organized the same year famous author Mark Twain was born. Let us know your favorite set of events, or any we left out, in the comments at the end!
The invitation for mortals to enter the presence of God and secure a fullness of His blessings did not originate with Joseph Smith. In fact, it’s a theme as old as mankind.
INTRODUCTION: Cain’s query of the Lord has echoed down the corridors of time: “Am I my brother’s keeper?” (Moses 5:34) And the answer has followed close at hand. Religious history is filled with tales of sacrifice made by men and women in behalf of their brothers and sisters. We have always considered that the greatest among us have been those willing to enter harm’s way in behalf of others, whether friends or strangers. It is proved conclusively by the firefighters and policemen who rushed into the towers of the World Trade Center while everyone else was rushing out. It is also exemplified by thousands of missionaries who have entered into the vineyard of the Lord to save souls and by faithful visiting and home teachers—and by a multitude of others.
When I was young and silly, my parents used to take me to southern Utah to visit relatives almost every summer. We would spend a week or two in Kanab and I would devote hours each day to roaming the red hills and canyons in the area with my cousins. One of the activities in which we sometimes engaged was rock rolling. We would climb the K-hill, a small table-top mountain northeast of town and roll rocks down the side. It was awesome to see the largest boulders we could move crashing down the hillside, gathering momentum and speed, dislodging other great rocks and debris which joined the mad cascade to the bottom. There were times when it seemed as if the whole mountain was moving.