Softly and Tenderly
“Flogging will continue until morale improves.”
These words are emblazoned on a naval-style brass placard above my desk at work. I found this placard in Boston while my lovely wife and I were on tour with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. When I read it, I laughed heartily and said, “I have got to buy this!”
“Where would you put it?” my wife asked.
“I don’t care. It’s hilarious!”
I wanted to hang it in the living room. My wife (perhaps wisely) didn’t agree. I couldn’t find the right spot in my home office (where I have all my swords, axes, spears, a mace, armor, etc.). So the placard now hangs above my desk at the Riverton Office Building of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
One day, I looked up from my computer to see one of my co-workers, a wonderful lady from Bolivia, looking very confused. “What is flogging?” she asked.
When I explained that it was a form of punishment that involved a whip with nine leather strips, this only deepened her confusion. So I explained that it was a joke. “Essentially, it says that you will continue to be punished until you become happy.”
She smiled and laughed.
I’m pretty sure she got the joke…
Flogging, of course, never improves morale. It never makes someone be happy.
I love Thursday nights. Thursday night is often the highlight of my week. Thursday night is when I get to rehearse with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. I feel so uplifted during rehearsal. However, rehearsal is hard work. We don’t get to simply sing the music with joy. No, we push hard to make the music better. We repeat a phrase or a single note over and over until we get it right. And we often hear Brother Wilberg or Brother Murphy say, “Baritones, it’s just not high enough,” or, “You’re not watching! There’s no excuse for not watching. Get your eyes out of your music!” or the dreaded, “It’s just not good enough.” And when we finally get it right, we hear, “That’s it! Do it again!”
Yes, rehearsals are hard work.
And on Sunday morning, after we have sung our last note and the final organ music is playing at the end of the broadcast, most of the time, Brother Wilberg or Brother Murphy will give us two thumbs up. If we don’t get that sign of approval, we know we have to reshoot a song. So we reshoot it and then we get the two thumbs up.
And it will all have been worth it.
This weekend, we have the privilege of watching General Conference. We will hear the words of the Lord as conveyed by the prophet and apostles and other officers and authorities of the Church. We will eagerly anticipate the calling of three new apostles of the Lord Jesus Christ. We will hear many words of comfort and inspiration.
And that will make us feel good.
And we will also be called to repentance. Over and over. We will be told (gently or otherwise), “You’re not listening. You’re not watching. What you’re doing is wrong. It’s just not good enough. You can and should do better.” And we will think, “Oh, I hope my son or daughter is listening to this!” or, “I hope Brother or Sister So-And-So is listening. They really need to hear this.” But what we should be thinking is, “I’m going to try harder. I’m going to do better. Me. I need to correct my course.”
Because, without correction, without admitting our mistakes and committing to do better, without doing better and correcting our course, all we have is a false sense of well-being. That isn’t what we go to church for… or General Conference. I can pay any minister in any other church to tell me what I want to hear, and if he or she doesn’t say what makes me feel good, I can fire him or her or go to a different church. I don’t need that. That won’t bring me true happiness. It’s like drinking brandy (or hot chocolate) in freezing temperatures. I might feel good for a moment, feel an initial rush of warmth, but that will fade. And I’ll still be cold—perhaps colder in the end. I am no closer to returning to my Father in Heaven and my loving Savior.
I go to this Church so I can be healed, so I can improve, so I can be called to repentance, and truly repent.
And when I improve, when I am able to get a little closer to the Savior, then that is what truly, honestly makes me happy.
Repentance is painful, but it is redeeming. Jesus Christ made it possible for me to come back to him. Softly and tenderly, Jesus is calling me home. That’s what General Conference is all about.
