Many years ago, my wife and I were at a music concert at the outdoor square known as Residenzplatz in Salzburg, Austria. The square was very crowded, making it impossible for my five-foot-six-inch wife to see anything other than the people standing in front of her. So she carefully climbed atop my shoulders and was able to see the stage, and we enjoyed the concert together.
In a letter to Robert Hooke in 1676, Sir Isaac Newton wrote, "If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of Giants."[1] I have come to love this phrase as it evokes imagery that provides powerful and enlightening thoughts. For example, we see here a person with unobstructed views.
With clear vision they see a world of seemingly unlimited possibilities--independent of any other. In many ways, this could have been Isaac Newton, who was and still is considered to be among the most influential thinkers and scientists in history. But Newton had the rare ability to recognize that he was building upon the contributions of others that changed his sightline.
He also realized that they built upon the contributions of others, who also built upon the contributions of those before them.
And so on and so forth.
Sadly, we live in a time where many do not make the connection between their opportunities to live in peace, make choices, have educational opportunities, enjoy the freedom to discover, earn a living, recreate, and dream, with the contributions of others. I have come to realize that much of what I see and experience today is possible, in large part, because I am perched atop the accomplishments, hard work, efforts, sacrifices, and ideals of those who have gone before me.
Sometimes the shoulders that have impacted us most are not readily recognized, for they are buried in the heaps of generations past.
Not long ago, President Gilbert recognized the shoulders of those upon which you, here at BYU-Idaho, stand. He said, "At BYU-Idaho we draw on that same pioneer's heart, a gift of the early settlers who came to this valley and eventually founded this college." President Gilbert continued, "The pioneer's heart has been preserved by the Lord in the very location of this campus...'for such a time as this' when the Lord would significantly expand His educational gathering across the Church." With so much happening on this campus, it would be foolish not to stand on the shoulders of those that contributed so much to your success.
My mother often reminded me that our family stood proudly and squarely upon the shoulders of our Danish ancestors. She loved to tell us that we are of "pioneer stock" and share their stories. These pioneer stories were usually filled with unbearable challenges, setbacks, and seemingly impossible odds. And at the end of the day, they circled their wagons, built a fire, sang, and danced--or at least, that's the way I remembered the stories. And what was their theme song? "Come, Come, Ye Saints" (Hymns, no. 30). I always thought this was a strange theme song for those who were hungry, fatigued, and at the brink of devastation. After all, one verse reads, "And should we die before our journey's through, Happy day! All is well."
All is well? Anybody could see that all was not well. And besides, most motivational songs do not have "death," "happy day," and "all is well" in the same sentence. As a teen, I wondered, just who were these overly optimistic people anyway? I believe that most, if not all, of us assume they must have been exceptional and even possibly super humans, which leaves most of us feeling and thinking, "Unlike me." While their shoulders were stout enough, I hope you will not think that you wouldn't measure up in comparison. "But Brother Richardson," you may interject, "I'm no Brigham Young, Captain Moroni, or Thomas Monson. I'm about as ordinary as they come." If you are feeling this way, then draw upon your BYU-Idaho pioneer heritage and stand tall on the shoulders of John L. Clark, president of this institution from 1944 to 1971. He believed that this school "was founded upon the firm belief there are extraordinary possibilities in ordinary people."
Years ago, I was sitting on the stand in a chapel in Europe singing "Come, Come, Ye Saints." A leader leaned over and whispered, "You know, the Polish translation of this song is quite different from the English version." "Really?" I countered. He said, "It doesn't really read 'All is well! All is well!'" I looked at him somewhat surprised. "The actual translation," he explained, "is 'Not so bad! Not so bad!'"[2]
I couldn't help but quietly chuckle. Maybe the pioneers were pretty ordinary after all--just like me. Maybe everything wasn't always "well," but with their expanded vision and tremendous dedication, they could say, "This is not so bad...not so bad." Then with a deep breath, and renewed and relentless courage, they took yet another step and continued to forge ahead just as their ancestors did before them. Oh, to stand on the shoulders of giants and to be a pioneer.
Our opening song today is a reminder that we are all pioneers. Of course, "You don't have to push a handcart, leave your family dear, or walk a thousand miles or more, to be a pioneer." A pioneer, by definition, is not merely "one who crosses the plains or homesteads," but also one who "ventures into unknown or unclaimed territory; opens up new areas of thought, research, or development; or leads the way, blazes new trails." This sounds a lot like you. So with this in mind, I turn to the second verse of "To Be a Pioneer." "You do [have] to have great courage, faith to conquer fear, and work with might for a cause that's right, to be a pioneer!"[3] I would like to frame my remarks on those three simple but core principles outlined in this simple song. With your indulgence, however, I will present them in a slightly different order.
1. Work with might for a cause that's right
At the core of any pioneering is work. Elder Neal A. Maxwell reminded us, "The gospel of work is part of 'the fulness of the gospel,'" and noted, "I have not seen any perspiration-free shortcuts to the celestial kingdom; there is no easy escalator to take us there."[4]
The Savior taught the early saints, "There is a law, irrevocably decreed in heaven before the foundations of this world, upon which all blessings are predicated-- And when we obtain any blessing from God, it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated."[5] What is the law spoken in this verse? Consider Paul's teachings to the Galatians as he said, "Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap."[6] It appears then, that the irrevocable law is the law of the harvest. Elder Robert D. Hales explained that "the law of the harvest is simply that you don't get something for nothing in life."[7] Reaping what you sow, getting out what you put in, or obtaining what you pay for has been the modus operandi from the very beginning--even before the Creation of the world. Now, that's "old school!" No wonder President Dieter F. Uchtdorf said, "What we sow, we reap. That is the law of heaven. That is the law of God's harvest."[8]
It is critical to understand that this law is irrevocable or, in other words, "not able to be changed, reversed, or recovered; final." Why make such a big deal about this? It is because the debate about the finality of the irrevocable law rages on. I remember my father teaching me that "honesty is the best policy" and that "cheaters never win." "But Dad," I whined in junior high school, "everybody cheats, and they are the ones that are always winning!" He also taught me that if you keep the word of wisdom, you will "run and not be weary ... walk and not faint" (D&C 89:20). "But dad," I whined in high school, "all my teammates break the word of wisdom, and they actually run really fast. And besides, not one of them has fainted on the field." We can all recite instances when the law of the harvest seemed like it was defunct. The slovenly get the job, jerks get the girls, slackers get the A's, and the unemployed or underemployed seem to drive the best cars. And then there are those people that eat three dozen doughnuts with ice cream on top, wash it down with a soda, and somehow remain lean, mean, fighting machines. What can be said about this so-called evidence?
"Be not deceived." Regardless of what you think you see or do, all efforts will be matched. Remember all the times when the law of the harvest did work. "God will not be mocked." Things will work out, as they should. And the old-fashioned pioneer grit still yields solid results. You see, "Old school is still good school." Your heritage has proven that.
Because of this, Paul encouraged, "Let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not."[9] I like Paul's certain promise that "we shall reap," because I like blessings, and I always have. But wait a minute. What did he mean by "in due season?" And what about the phrase "faint not"? I gained a better view and understanding of this heavenly law by climbing atop my parents' shoulders when I was 12 years old.
I loved snow skiing and found myself in a sporting goods store standing in front of a rack of brand new skis. One particular pair of skis seemed to call out my name, sing the Sirens' captivating song, and whisper, "Buy me!" I knew at that moment that I was meant to call these skis my own. Unfortunately, I didn't have the funds for a cheeseburger, let alone a pair of skis. So I found my mother in the mall, brought her to the sporting goods store, and stood her in front of the skis so she too could receive revelation and do what every inspired mother should do--buy skis for their beloved children. I stood next to her looking at the skis, waiting for the big moment. Nothing! No whispers, no singing, no light shining on the skis, nothing! Undeterred, I made my emotional plea, asking her to fulfill my dreams, and reminded her of her role as a good, honorable mother. Nothing! I told her it was her duty to help her children to be happy. Nothing! She finally turned, looked at me, and said calmly, "Matt, you'll appreciate these skis more if you earn the money to buy them yourself."
What? I tried in vain to convince her that I would appreciate the skis if she bought them, and besides, where would I be able to earn money--I was 12 years old! Since Mom said no, then obviously I should ask Dad. Nothing! Well, actually he did say, "Matt, you'll appreciate these skis more if you earn the money to buy them yourself."
I was convinced this was a conspiracy. Not long afterward, I found work on a local farm. I pulled and shucked garlic, fed chickens, and helped load the farmer's truck for market at 5:00 a.m. A neighbor saw me working early in the morning and asked if I was interested in stocking frozen foods at a local grocery store after my farming chores. This led to another person asking if I wanted to stock all the potato chips in the store as well. Obviously there were no child labor laws when I was young, and I wasn't complaining.
I was able to scrape together enough money for a down payment to hold the skis, and then every two weeks, I walked to the mall and made a small payment on the skis. I would ask if I could see the skis, and the salesperson would bring them out from the storeroom. Oh, sweet reunion! After spending some quality time together, I would hand the skis back, wave longingly goodbye, and get back to work. It took a year to earn enough money to take those skis home. I have owned many pairs of skis in my lifetime. But there was only one pair that was never sold, given away, or sent to the local thrift store. It is this pair.
I learned that the old-school pioneer law of the harvest really did work. It took much longer than I hoped, but in due season the reward did come. It was much harder than I expected, but I fainted not. Or, in other words, I didn't quit or stop, even though I had no idea when the harvest would actually come.
I learned something else about the law of the harvest that I didn't quite bank on. Oh, I got the skis that I worked for, but I also received much, much more. For example, my mother and father were right. I did appreciate these skis more because I did buy them myself. I also harvested something of even greater and lasting value. I reaped a knowledge that I could find solutions to my challenges, that I could do difficult things, and that I could endure much better than I thought I could. I harvested experience, grit, and a determination that continues to bless me to this day.
Those who "work with might for a cause that's right" will reap a harvest in spades. This is true of earning a degree, learning new skills, gaining a testimony, falling in love, and becoming converted to truth. President Uchtdorf testified that "God's harvest is unimaginably glorious. To those who honor Him, His bountiful blessings come in "good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over.... For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again (Luke 6:38)."[10]
I invite you to stand on the shoulders of your heritage, the scriptures, and other disciples, and work like there is no tomorrow. I promise that blessings will ensue--even beyond your expectations. So "Come, come, ye Saints! ... Why should we mourn or think our lot is hard? Tis not so; all is right. Why should we think to earn a great reward if we now shun the fight?"
2. You do have to have great courage
When Evan Stephens penned "While the enemy assaileth, shall we shrink or shun the fight?" in his hymn "True to the Faith," he answered with an emphatic "No!" It usually requires great courage to work with might for a cause that's right. More often than not, a demonstration of great courage will be required at the threshold of success--which typically comes when you least expect it. Of all the hundreds of papers, quizzes, and exams from my undergraduate degree, I am holding in my hand the only thing I saved from my entire undergraduate experience. This is a Chemistry 105 exam. I vividly remember watching the professor handing a big stack of exams to the person on the front row and saying, "Find your exam and pass the pile along." This was long before FERPA laws protecting privacy, so public humiliation or adoration (depending on how you performed) was always a looming possibility. I hastily retrieved my exam and hurried out of class. As I was walking out of the building, I quickly glanced at the exam and saw the number 76 scrawled across the top in red pen. "76?" I quickly stuffed the exam into my backpack. I felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach. My mind raced, and I started thinking that obviously I wasn't smart enough to be at a university, for surely everyone else in the class scored much higher than I did. I envisioned my fellow classmates celebrating together at the student center, toasting their success with chocolate milk. The number 76 kept flashing over and over in my mind as I walked toward my apartment by going down the stairs south of campus leading to a botanical pond. Nearing the bottom of the stairs, I pulled the dreaded exam from my backpack, hoping that I somehow read my score incorrectly. But sure enough, that red 76 was still there. But then I saw something I hadn't noticed before. My heart raced when I saw a tiny minus sign. You see, I didn't get a 76 on this exam; I missed 76! And sure enough, in the corner was the number 24. Surely this is the lowest score in school history given to someone who actually tried to do well. I was so stunned that my first impulse was to jump into the botanical pond, swim to the bottom, and hide from the entire world. Little did I know that botanical pond was less than three feet deep. So that plan would have also received a score of 24 as it too would have been doomed to failure.
Now you may ask, "Why in the world did you save that particular exam as your only memento of your undergraduate academic experience?" It is because this experience impacted and shaped me in significant ways--ways I hope to always remember. I am not proud of failing (or failing with such absolute certainty). What happened next, however, was something that required pioneer-like courage. Somehow, I resisted the overwhelming urge to pack all my belongings into my car and drive home and leave school and all my humiliation in the rear-view mirror. It was during this time that I came across a quote that was attributed to Winston Churchill that read, "Success is not final, failure is not fatal; it is the courage to continue that counts."[11] I climbed up on Winston's shoulders and strained to see beyond this setback. But it took every bit of courage I had to get up, dust off my pride, place my ego in check, return to class, and get back to work. And because I couldn't muster that type of courage on my own, I climbed up on the shoulders of the pioneer Saints and listened to them invite me yet again to "Come, Come, ye Saints... Gird up your loins; fresh courage take. Our God will never us forsake; and soon we'll have this tale to tell-- All is well! All is well!"
I occasionally look at this exam and remember that "failure is not fatal" and that it's the "courage to continue that counts." I remember that every storm will eventually break if you just hold on long enough. I remember that learning is a process and not an event and that I could do difficult things even when it takes more time, strength, effort, and courage than I think or feel I have. Most importantly, I am reminded that life is not determined by a singular performance, and there are times when you need to be courageous. So when your mettle is tested, please climb up on the shoulders of those who came before you so you can see further and know that it's "not so bad! Not so bad!"
3. Faith to Conquer Fear
We must have faith to conquer fear. Too many assume that it is faith that conquers fear. This implies that faith will do all the work while you sit on a couch, devouring a bag of Cheetos while binge-watching Netflix. On the contrary, in the Lectures on Faith, Joseph Smith described faith as "the moving cause to all action."[12] You see, faith is not so much something that you merely possess as much as it is something that starts to possess you, causing you to act. No wonder James warned, "Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone."[13] Possessing faith but not doing something lacks all power. Faith would never cause a person to turn tail, hide, or disappear at the first sign of failure, self-doubt, challenge, or fear.
Your list of fears may include navigating the world of dating--or the world of not dating--exams, your major, or the future in general. Faith helps us to summon the courage and strength to take just one more step, which will be followed by another, and then another which will conquer our fears--small or large. When we draw upon this faith and act, we know that somehow--just somehow--it will all work out in the end. And if it doesn't work out, then this brand of faith assures us that this is not the end.
The key is living according to our faith. As you act on what you know to be right, to be loyal to your testimony, and do all that you can, I promise you that you will find power to conquer all fear. "And Christ hath said," wrote Moroni, "If ye will have faith in me ye shall have power to do whatsoever thing is expedient in me."[14] Faith in Christ gives us the power to act as needed--regardless of our fears.
Many years ago, our family planned to spend Christmas with my wife's family in Seattle. Because of my work schedule, I was not able to travel with my family but planned to join them a few days after they arrived. One night my wife's younger brother, who was in high school at the time, invited a group of friends to hang out. Unbeknownst to them, it started snowing, and soon all the roads were closed, leaving everyone stranded for the night at my in-laws' home. Trying to accommodate the group for the night meant that my wife ended up having a new roommate. They made small talk, eventually said goodnight, and turned out the light. As my wife was lying in bed, it dawned on her that she hadn't said her personal prayers before retiring. She didn't feel right saying her prayers as she lay in bed, but at the same time, she didn't feel comfortable getting out of bed and kneeling with a stranger in the room. She feared what this girl might think, especially if she didn't believe in God. She feared that maybe she might be considered a religious fanatic or some type of weirdo. She feared that somehow her new roommate might feel uncomfortable, be offended, or have a negative opinion of the Church. She even feared that she wasn't being true to her own conscience by not doing what she has done most every night of her life and pray kneeling by the side of her bed. What should she do? She decided to wait silently until her new roomie was asleep and then take action.
Feeling certain that her roommate was indeed asleep, my wife carefully and silently slid out of bed, not wanting to wake her guest. She would have made the stealthiest ninja proud. She knelt by the side of her bed, offered her prayer, and then repeated the ninja-like return to bed. Mission accomplished. She had scarcely settled in when she heard a voice in the dark ask, "Lisa, were you just praying?" My wife answered, "Yes, I was." It was silent again for a moment, and then she heard, "All my life I've wanted to pray, but I just didn't know how." Another silent pause. "Will you teach me?" Lisa turned on the light, talked about a loving Heavenly Father, the power and process of prayer, and then they kneeled together, and a "first" prayer was offered.
Lisa's faith drove her to action--to her knees--rather than to remain passive and overwhelmed with fears. I have been privileged to witness this woman of faith overcome her fears as she has acted on promptings, accepted callings that pushed her beyond her comfort, and courageously maintained her standards without dilution. She overcame the fears of what the future might hold--especially being married to me--as I worked through three university degrees, and full-time employment that was not in sight. Her first response to worry is to pray. Her first inclination when fear sets in is turn to God. I know saying this embarrasses her, and I will surely hear about this on our drive home today, but she is a fine example of what it means to have faith to conquer fear.
So the next time you feel fear creeping in, whether about your future, failure, poor health, serving a mission, family shortcomings, getting married, remaining single, repenting, breaking habits, personal doubts, gender orientation, victimization, or whether or not the blessings promised in your patriarchal blessing will ever be fulfilled--please climb up on the shoulders of those who exhibit faith to conquer fear. The view is much, much better up here. Oh, "Come, come, ye Saints. No toil nor labor fear; but with joy wend your way. Though hard to you this journey may appear, grace shall be as your day."
Conclusion
During a particularly trying time for Joseph Smith, when he could have been overwhelmed with discouragement, fear, and doubt, Jesus Christ revealed what we now call section six of the Doctrine and Covenants. In this section, Christ reveals that all disciples must have great courage (D&C 6:13), embrace the law of the harvest (D&C 6:33) and work with might for a cause that's right (D&C 6:6). We also learn from this revelation that we must have faith to overcome all fear, as Christ said, "Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not."[15]
One of my favorite scriptural stories that illustrates the power of standing on the shoulder of giants is found in John 1:35-42. John the Baptist is standing with two of his disciples, or followers: John, son of Zebedee, and Andrew. Upon seeing Jesus Christ, John says, "Behold, the Lamb of God!" causing these two disciples to follow after Jesus (John 1:36). When Jesus noticed these two men following Him, He turned and asked, "What seek ye?" John and Andrew query, "Where dwellest thou?" Jesus replies, "Come and see" (John 1:39). The account states that they "abode with him [Jesus] that day." I like to think they climbed upon the Savior's shoulders and spent the day seeing farther than they had ever seen before. It forever changed them. They returned home and invited their brothers to come to "see" what they had seen that day.
Upon meeting Andrew's brother, Simon Peter, Jesus immediately invited him up on His shoulders so he could see himself more clearly. "Thou art Simon the son of Jona," Jesus said upon meeting Peter for the first time. "Thou shalt be called Cephas, which is by interpretation, A stone" (John 1:42). Do you see what Jesus just did? He helped Peter see more in himself that he had ever seen before. "I will call you rock!" Have you ever considered how that statement made Peter feel about himself? Rock! Not pebble, not dirt clod. Rock. That has a rugged ring to it. I am certain Peter stood a little taller that day. And what about the nickname James and John received? They were known as the "sons of thunder" (Mark 3:17). How did that make them feel? Or what about their father, Thunder, himself?
I testify that Jesus is the Christ. He sees more in you than you will ever see in yourself. So "come, come, ye Saints," and stand on His shoulders. It is my prayer that you will have great courage, faith to conquer fear, and work with might for a cause that's right. I promise that if you will make these characteristics your own, you will discern better and see farther in the future, giving you more confidence than you've yet experienced. I know these things to be true and that with Christ, "All is well! All is well!" In His name, even Jesus Christ, amen.
Notes
[1] Isaac Newton, "Letter from Sir Isaac Newton to Robert Hooke," Historical Society of Pennsylvania
[2] Hymny, Oraz Piesni Dla Dzieci, 1982. "All is well" is translated as "Nie jest zle" (not bad). In 2016, a new edition of hymns was published (Hymny) and the "All is well" translation was changed to "Dobrze. Jest" (It's well)
[3] "To Be a Pioneer," Children's Songbook, 218-219; emphasis added
[4] Neal A. Maxwell, "Put Your Shoulder to the Wheel," Ensign, May 1998
[5] Doctrine and Covenants 130:20-21; emphasis added
[6] Galatians 6:7
[7] Robert D. Hales, "Every Good Gift," New Era, August 1983
[8] Dieter F. Uchtdorf, "God's Harvest," Ensign, August 2014
[9] Galatians 6:7-9; emphasis added
[10] Dieter F. Uchtdorf, "The Merciful Obtain Mercy," Ensign, May 2012
[11] While this quote is predominantly attributed to Winston Churchill, Richard M. Langworth, a Churchill historian, has not found an attribution of this quote linked to Winston Churchill in his research
[12] N. B. Lundwall (ed.), A Compilation containing the Lectures on Faith, 7
[13] James 2:17
[14] Moroni 7:33
[15] Doctrine and Covenants 6:36