A special type of soldier

President Hugh B. Brown (1883-1975) served during the 1960s as a counselor in the First Presidency to President David O. McKay. He was one of my spiritual heroes in my late teen years. His teachings, among other factors, influenced my decision to serve a mission, which has influenced my life for good ever since. Recently one of the Brethren I work with now, Elder Richard G. Hinckley, shared the following account by President Brown. I had never heard this story before and was impressed with it. It is a great story.

At the request of the First Presidency, I had gone to England as coordinator for the LDS servicemen. One Saturday afternoon in 1944, I sent a telegram from London to the base chaplain near Liverpool letting him know that I would be in camp the next morning to conduct Mormon church services at 10:00 a.m.

When I arrived at the camp, there were 75 Mormon boys, all in uniform and quite a number in battle dress. The chaplain to whom I had sent the wire proved to be a Baptist minister from the southern U.S. He, too, was waiting for my arrival. As these young men ran out to greet me not because it was I, but because of what I represented, and as they literally threw their arms around me, knowing I was representing their parents as well as the Church, the minister said, "Please tell me how you do it."

"Do what?"

"Why," he said, "I did not get your wire until late this morning. I made a hurried search. I found there were 76 Mormon boys in this camp. I got word to them. 75 of them are here. The other is in the hospital. I have more than 600 Baptists in this camp, and if I gave them 6 months notice, I could not get a response like that."

And then he repeated, "How do you do it?"

I said, "Sir, if you will come inside, perhaps you will see."

We went in to the little chapel. The boys sat down. I asked, "How many here have been on missions?"  I think a full 50 percent raised their hands.

I said, "Will you and you and you, and I pointed to six of them, please come and administer the sacrament? And will you and you and you, and I pointed to six others, please come and sit here and be prepared to speak."

Then I said, "Who can lead the music?" A number of hands were raised. "Will you come and lead the music? And who can play this portable organ?" There were several more hands, and one was selected. Then I said, "What would you like to sing, fellows?" With one voice they replied, "Come, Come Ye Saints!"

We had no hymnbook. The boy sounded the chord:  they all arose. I have heard "Come, Come Ye Saints" sung in many lands and by many choirs and congregations. Without reflecting adversely on what we usually hear I think I have only heard "Come, Come Ye Saints" sung that once when every heart seemed to be bursting. They sounded every verse without books.

When they came to the last verse, they didn't mute it; they didn't sing it like a dirge but throwing back their shoulders, they sang out until I was fearful the walls would burst." And should we die before our journey's through, happy day, all is well." I looked at my minister friend and found him weeping.

Then one of the boys who had been asked to administer the sacrament knelt at the table, bowed his head, and said, "Oh, God, the Eternal Father." He paused for what seemed to be a full minute, and then he proceeded with the rest of the blessing on the bread. At the close of that meeting, I sought that boy out. I put my arm around his shoulders, and said, "Son, what's the matter? Why was it so difficult for you to ask the blessing on the bread?"

He paused for a minute and said, rather apologetically, "Well, Brother Brown, it hasn't been two hours since I was over the continent on a bombing mission. As we started to return, I discovered that my tail assembly was partly shot away, that one of my engines was out, that three of my crew were wounded, and that it appeared absolutely impossible that we could reach the shore of England.

"Brother Brown, up there I remembered Primary and Sunday School and MIA, and home and church, and up there when it seemed all hope was lost, I said, 'Oh, God the eternal Father, please support this plane until we reach a landing field.' He did just that, and when we landed, I learned of this meeting and I had to run all the way to get here. I didn't have time to change my battle dress, and when I knelt there and again addressed the Lord, I was reminded that I hadn't stopped to say thanks.

"Brother Brown, I had to pause a little while to tell God how grateful I was."

Well, we went on with the meeting. We sang. Prayers were offered, and these young men, with only a moment’s notice, each stood and spoke, preached the gospel of Jesus Christ to their comrades, bore their testimonies, and again I say with due respect to the various ones with whom I have associated and labored they were among the finest sermons I have ever heard.

Then the time was up and I said, Fellows, it's time for chow. We must dismiss now, or you will miss your dinner. With almost one voice they cried, "We can eat grub any time. Let's have a testimony meeting!"

So we stayed another hour and a half. I looked at my friend, and he was weeping unashamedly.

At the close of that meeting, this minister said, "I have been a minister for more than 21 years, and this has been the greatest spiritual experience of my life."

This story comes from a talk President Brown gave at BYU in May 1969 ("An Eternal Quest—Freedom of the Mind," May 13, 1969, Brigham Young University Speeches of the Year, 14–17), when I would have been in Brazil on my mission. The story is also quoted in “Lesson 28: Serving in the Church,” The Latter-day Saint Woman: Basic Manual for Women, Part B, 240.

A dangerous journey

My son-in-law Vince yesterday posted some comments on his blog about the talk given in the recent general conference by President Boyd K. Packer and the resulting noise in the media. I posted the following comment in response to Vince's blog.

Vince, I appreciate and endorse your sentiments. Issues such as homosexuality and same-gender marriage are clearly moral issues, and churches are supposed to speak out on moral issues. Besides the Mormons and the Catholics, where are all the other churches?

President Packer's talk was characterized in some of the media and by some homosexual advocates as hate speech. I defy anyone who actually heard the talk or has since read it to point out a single hint of hate.

I am grateful that the Lord is still willing to speak to His children through prophets, seers, and revelators. How utterly presumptuous to think we know more than the Lord or His servants! Among all the Brethren, President Packer clearly has the gift of seership; he "sees" things so many of the rest of us do not see.

Last night I started reading the book Michael referred to, The Marketing of Evil, and yes, we've been cleverly sold a bill of goods resulting in an almost wholesale shift in attitudes toward and acceptance of homosexuality (you will note that I am avoiding any use of the little three-letter politically correct word that was co-opted as a part of this sneaky advertising campaign for homosexuals to gain acceptance and then to silence any possible opposition [hence the cry of hate speech the moment anyone dares disagree with them]). They and we have been done a horrendous disservice.

Yes, we are heading down many wrong roads as a culture and a society. It is a slippery, dangerous journey that is rapidly eroding what has traditionally been admired as the American dream (and I am not talking about the economics of the American dream, but the moral and spiritual underpinnings of that way of life and the associated liberties that were once a beacon and last best hope for all the rest of mankind).

I think we are reaching the time foreseen by the prophet Isaiah: "Wo unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter!" (Isaiah 5:20; and quoted in 2 Nephi 15:20). That's the only conclusion I can come to when hearing someone say that President Packer's talk was "hate speech" when clearly it was precisely the opposite.

I disagree with the objectives and the agenda of those militants who are pushing for homosexual rights. Mere disagreement does not constitute hate. I also disagree with any who would persecute or deny the rights of those who are different than they are or who believe differently than they do (whether they be Mormons, homosexuals, Jews, Hispanics, whatever the hate de jour).

I personally know some homosexuals, two of whom are fairly close family members, and I bear them no ill will, no animosity, no hatred. If anything, I feel more compassion and concern and love for them. But such compassion, concern, and love do not move me to ignore, question, or oppose the Lord's clear position as taught in the scriptures and by latter-day prophets on issues such as marriage, virtue, and fidelity. Any sexual relationship outside of marriage is sin. Marriage between a man and a woman is fundamental and basic and essential to the very plan of happiness that was put in place before the world was even formed. Indeed, it was the very reason the world was created. Compromising on or destroying that foundation can only lead to individual heartbreak and the demise of civilization.

Bleak outcomes, to be sure, but we have a sure, bright hope in knowing that the Lord's purposes in the end will prevail (see Mormon 8:22).