REPROVING BETIMES WITH SHARPNESS

REPROVING BETIMES WITH SHARPNESS



No power or influence can or ought to be maintained by
virtue of the priesthood, only by persuasion, by long-
suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love
unfeigned …

Reproving betimes with sharpness, when
moved upon by the Holy Ghost; and then showing
forth afterwards an increase of love towards him whom
thou hast reproved …D&C 121:41, 43 (emphasis added)



“So what have you heard?” Bishop Henderson was interviewing Stephen Otutaha, ward mission leader.

“That they were asked to leave Wal-Mart because they were playing shopping cart tag in the aisles of the store.”

The bishop suppressed a chuckle. “Sounds typical of our Scouts, but missionaries? Besides, this just came to my attention. Our oh-so-dedicated missionaries took their bicycles to the motocross track outside of town during the rain storm last week. The gate was of course locked, but they somehow got themselves and their bikes through the rail fence. They were seen racing each other on the track, over and through the obstacles. They got drenched and covered with mud, then rode their bikes through a local car-wash, emerging dripping wet but mud-free, both bike and missionary. Reports have filtered down to me from several amazed on-lookers, including some dismayed members. Hope they didn’t push the wax-cycle button.”

Bro. Otutaha had another adolescent prank incident to report, Bishop Henderson still another. Pretty soon there were about ten “interesting” accounts to be dealt with.

“Any one of these taken by itself could be passed off as being an immature 19, but do we see a pattern here … where they’re doing more damage to the reputation of the Church than good?” Bishop Henderson picked up the phone and began dialing the mission president’s number.

“Hold on a minute, Bishop. Let me talk to them first. Let’s handle it in-house if we can.”

The bishop agreed.

***********************************************

“That ward mission leader of yours – he yelled at us. He called us names. He even swore at us! He needs to be released.”

It was a Saturday, right after the baptism of a child of record. Bishop Henderson had gone to his office at the meetinghouse to briefly take care of minutia in preparation for Sunday. He had just heard a knock, and was now confronting two distraught Elders, proverbial steam coming out of their ears they were so upset.

As his name indicated, Bro. Otutaha was Polynesian. He was huge. He had played football at a college in Utah, offensive lineman. It was during his college years that he had found and embraced the restored gospel. Knowing Steve’s background and relatively recent conversion, the bishop wasn’t surprised at his vocabulary choices. Once again he found himself suppressing a chuckle. As a result he felt himself relax, and was thus able to respond seriously, with quiet confidence.

“Elders, Bro. Otutaha is the best friend you’ve got.”

“Huh?”

“When I heard what you have been up to lately, I was dialing the mission president when that “evil” ward mission leader stopped me.”

For some reason they instantly favored the bishop with their complete attention.

“What do you mean?”

“Shopping cart tag at Wal-Mart? Motocross track and car-wash? Need I go on? I could, you know.”

“How do you know about those things?”

“Let’s just say that the Lord made sure that in this instance the small town grapevine worked quite well.”

“Uh-h …”

“His delivery was not up to standard. He raised his voice, he called you a name or two, he used colorful language. But the message itself? Was there anything wrong with that? You’re on the verge of throwing the baby out with the bathwater, Elders. You’re reacting to the delivery, not to the message. Even if there is some inaccuracy in the message, there is certainly an awful lot of truth in it also, isn’t there. Isn’t there? Heed it, Elders, respond to it with humility, remorse, contrition – repentance. If you don’t, it will be you who will be in deep do-do, not Bro. Otutaha. You handle the message, I’ll take care of the delivery. Deal?

“But …”

The conversation went on for awhile longer. The Spirit helped Bishop Henderson stay friendly but firm. The missionaries got up to leave. The bishop shook their hands and was prompted to add, “You know, Elders, you have a chance to become men right now, or to remain boys.”

Their response was again, “What do you mean?”

“If you’re men, you’ll take in good faith all the truth of the reaming out you’ve just been given, and you will make the changes. You’ll throw out the delivery and anything else that wasn’t true, but you will keep what’s true and act accordingly. If you only react to the delivery, you’ll remain boys. Your choice.”

The Elders, their eyes on their shoes, remained motionless, then shuffled toward the door. The bishop opened it for them. The senior companion mumbled something, not raising his head.

“Sorry, Elder, I didn’t catch that.”

He looked up and caught the Bishop Henderson’s eyes. The young man’s were misty. “I’m going to be a man, Bishop. You’ll see.”