My dear brothers and sisters, I am grateful for the opportunity to speak to you today—to share with you some thoughts and ideas that have found significance in my life. My purpose today is to inspire you—to invite you to recognize your worth as an individual and your potential as a human being. To have you understand that much of what you will become in life is directly related to the choices you make. Specifically, I want to address the influence of culture upon you; both in what you choose and what you contribute.
In February of 1842, Joseph Smith received a request from John Wentworth, a newspaper editor for the Chicago Democrat. Mr. Wentworth was asking for information for a friend, George Barstow, who was writing a history of the state of New Hampshire. Mr. Wentworth wanted to know, first hand, concerning the beliefs and history of the Latter-day Saints.
In his response, the Prophet Joseph composed a group of thirteen paragraphs, which have become known as the Articles of Faith. In a very clear and concise way, he articulated the basic framework of what we believe as members of the Church. The Articles of Faith comment on the Godhead and the organization of the Church as well as other important theological principles. However, at the end of the document, Joseph seemed to change his direction slightly, leaving organization and doctrine and focusing instead on issues of character and culture. I believe that the Prophet Joseph wanted Mr. Wentworth to know the "heart" of the Mormon people. He seemed eager to demonstrate to a curious world that the Latter-day Saints were a kind, and law-abiding people, seeking beauty and refinement in their lives and looking to better themselves in order to find acceptance among those who possessed similar goals. He attempted this by paraphrasing the Apostle Paul, and then added a very significant statement:
We believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and in doing good to all men; indeed we may say that we follow the admonition of Paul, "We believe all things, we hope all things, we have endured many things and hope to be able to endure all things. If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report, or praiseworthy, we seek after these things.
I am convinced that in that final sentence of the Wentworth Letter, the Prophet Joseph laid a heavy responsibility upon each of us as members of the Church, and especially upon you, the youth of the Church, since you are those who are just now in the process of making the important choices that will define who you will become. It is the responsibility to seek the best that the world offers us, to surround ourselves with experiences and activities that defy the limits we sometimes feel regarding peer pressure or popular culture; to work to recognize and identify those things in life that bring growth and fulfillment. In short, to drink deeply from the well of what life has to offer. And therein lies the problem. Life offers much.
In my role as a teacher in the visual arts, I deal with cultural issues and their impact upon society. I discuss with students the daily choices they make from the vast array that is available to them. If we liken some of the cultural choices that surround us to food items, we can quickly see that if we are not careful, we can find ourselves unwittingly filling up on the corndogs and donut holes of life. If we exercise little or no discretion in the choices we make, what we do for entertainment and relaxation can resemble feeding from a barnyard trough—full of things that simply reflect a world of declining morals, harsh attitudes, selfish behaviors and worthless fascination. Sometimes it seems we choose these things by default, because they come to us so easily. They require nothing but consumption. They do not raise our level of consciousness and seldom provide any nutrition or growth.
On the other hand, if we choose well, culture can lift and inspire us. The gastronomical equivalents here could be: filet mignon, pasta primavera, or French onion soup. (These are a few of my favorites; you can substitute your own.) Here we find not only nourishment to the body, but to the mind and the soul as well. We also experience a higher level of consciousness. We can experience profound ideas and meaningful insights into what it means to be alive. However, recognizing the better and more meaningful things in life requires work and preparation. That is what separates low culture from things that are "virtuous, lovely, or of good report, or praiseworthy..." We have to work a little for things that are better, not just unthinkingly consume that which is placed in front of us. Now, I don't want you to think that you or I can never dive into a big bowl of Frosted Flakes, but the key is to avoid a steady diet of them.
If you think about it, there is a fundamental law that demands that progress in anything be the result of effort. Stasis never promotes growth.
I remember in the seventh grade reading the classic book by Charles Dicken's, Great Expectations. The thought of reading that book worried me because it seemed large and complicated. Very likely it was just a little beyond my ability to fully comprehend. However, it was the one that was left on the table for me after all the other students had chosen a book. As I reluctantly opened it and began to turn its pages a wonderful thing happened; I was pulled into the richness of it. I envisioned the landscapes and the room interiors. I saw the faces of the characters in my own mind—Pip, and Estella, and Miss Havisham, and Magwitch, and Jaggers. The story became real to me. The suspense, the joy, the heartache, the reconciliation became understandable. I think the book helped to change me from a child into a young adult. Why? Because it made me work—and therefore helped me grow. I had unknowingly tested Joseph's admonition—I had sought out of one of "the best books."
Though I doubt I fully realized it then, an important lesson learned from reading that classic book was that the arts possess great power to influence us. I have since come to more fully realize that cultural pursuits significantly affect our thoughts and our behavior. If you are like me, the most immediate example of the power of art is through music. Music can almost instantaneously affect my mood. Music for me is very much less a conscious, intellectual concern, but instead a very sensory experience. The arts on a very fundamental level can inform us about how we feel about life. This is why it becomes important for us to understand their influence, so that we are free to enjoy and appreciate, but less likely to be manipulated by those with questionable motives.
The artwork placed in this very building, the BYU-Idaho Center, was done with great care—intending to have an effect on all who enter. When planning the building, it was determined that each of the three levels would have a theme: the upper level is the Book of Mormon, the lower level honors our pioneer heritage, the main level of the building displays the cycle of paintings by the classical Danish artist Carl Bloch depicting the life of Christ. Because of the scale of the building, these paintings, which are in reproduction form, are presented much larger than they actually exist, adding to their impact upon the viewer. Former BYU-Idaho president Kim B. Clark wanted students to adopt a reverent attitude as they passed from the activities side of the building to this large congregational hall. He understood the influence these works could have upon the students and others. President Clark related that when President Henry B. Eyring visited campus to participate in the dedication of this building, he entered the building at the south entrance as many of you did today. Upon crossing the land bridge to the main level foyer he stopped. As he stood there, tears formed in his eyes. He was still for several minutes. He then remarked to President Clark regarding the emotional impact that cycle of paintings depicting the life of Christ had upon him. He had felt the power of great art. Now, it is generally known that President Eyring, as a former president of this institution, has a special place in his heart for this campus. What may not be as commonly known is that President Eyring is himself an artist. He frequently carries a miniature watercolor kit with him. I have seen several of his watercolor sketches and they are of excellent quality. Through his frequent association with artistic and cultural things, it is likely that President Eyring has become sensitized to the artistic endeavors of others, and could appreciate fully what he saw before him.
It is a sad truth that if people do not know that there is something better for them, then they may never aspire to it. If we do not challenge ourselves in any significant way, we will never succeed at anything difficult. We will not take the accomplishments that should be ours from childhood into adulthood, where they can be used to bless the lives of so many others. Desiring to feel the significant in life—shouldn't this be part of the character of the LDS people? Joseph Smith seemed to think so. I believe that in his final sentence to John Wentworth that he envisioned a people who were schooled enough, sensitive enough, wise enough and engaged enough to be able to tell the difference between things that were worthy of their attention and things that were not. It is likely that we can agree that we live in a world of increasing distraction. It is my fear that we are becoming less able to distinguish between the exceptional and the mundane—those things that are truly superior and special from the glut of sensory overload provided by social media and popular culture.
In his classic address entitled: "Good, Better, Best" Elder Dallin H. Oaks admonished:
Consider how we use our time in the choices we make in viewing television, playing video games, surfing the Internet, or reading books and magazines. Of course it is good to view wholesome entertainment, or obtain interesting information. But not everything of that sort is worth the portion of our life we give to obtain it. Some things are better, and others are best. When the Lord told us to seek learning, He said 'Seek ye out of the best books words of wisdom (D&C 88:118).'
We live in a world, which routinely confuses notoriety with achievement, substitutes sensationalism for accomplishment, and rewards outlandish behavior in lieu of significant contribution. Sadly, there are many who cannot, or will not, recognize the difference.
A great deal of how we enjoy the beauties of life stem from the attitude that we have toward it. Barring unforeseen circumstances most of us will live seven or eight decades or more on earth. Imagine living on a cultural plane that made you oblivious to the wonderful possibilities and potential that this world had to offer? How would you then view earth life in the hereafter when it was too late to do anything about it? Hence, your attitude becomes important as you participate in the artistic and cultural contributions of others, as well as committing yourself to the development of your own talents.
I am reminded of a story that involves a famous artist named Robert Henri. Like most aspiring art students in the 1800s Robert trained in Paris at the Academie Julien or the Ecole de Beaux Artes. Substitute yourself for Robert Henri in the following account—and see if it sounds familiar:
I once lived in the top of a house, in a little room in Paris. I was a student. My place was a romance. It was a mansard room with a little square window that looked out over housetops with pink chimneys. I could see the Institute, the Pantheon and the Tower of St. Jacques. The tiles on the floor were red, and some of them were broken and got out of place, but there was a little stove, a washbasin, a pitcher and piles of my drawings. My bed was a cot. It was a wonderful place. I cooked fine meals of macaroni and eggs on my little stove and ate with the window open. I kept my Camembert cheese out on the ledge. I studied and thought and made compositions, and wrote letters home full of hope of someday being an artist. It was wonderful.
But days came when hopes looked black and my art student's paradise was turned into a dirty little room with broken tiles. Ashes fell from the stove and it was all hopelessly poor. I was tired of camembert and eggs and macaroni and there wasn't a shade of significance in those delicate little chimneys, or the Pantheon, the Institute or even the Tower of St. Jacques...
Now, what had changed? Nothing and everything. Though the circumstances remained identical, his whole existence seemed precariously balanced on the caprice of mood. Seeing the beautiful and seeking the good are skills developed as we recognize that there will be occasional bleak periods that will test our resolve and endurance, but the quest to gain judgment and discretion regarding what we will allow into our lives begins now and lasts for as long as we are alive; so don't allow yourself to be easily derailed. If you make a mistake or two, its okay; just keep trying.
The Thirteenth Article of Faith requires us to do more than avoid the evil we see in the world. It requires us to actively seek out things that are good, to expand our experience and our minds, and most importantly, to develop our own talents; so much so that the good, the excellent, and the superior will crowd out not only the evil, but will replace the mundane, the vulgar and the superficial, and yes, even the boring.
Now, you may be asking yourself at this point, "He wants me to experience higher culture and make choices that will enrich my life, but he hasn't given me a list of wonderful movies or great songs." I have steadfastly avoided telling you which movies to watch or what music to listen to. I quickly realized as a young man that my music was not my parent's music, and I am not persuaded that anything has changed from that day to this. The point of all of this is that you have to choose for yourself—that is the burden and the beauty of life. Let me, however, suggest several principles which may help you govern yourselves in these matters:
1) Remember, that there are "conspiring men in the last days"—those who are much more interested in making money than making art. Seek quality in every form of art, be it music, film, or story.
2) Try to poke your head up above the confining cloud of your immediate surroundings. Take a chance on something that you would not normally experience—especially if you hear good things about it. It won't kill you to experience a classic; be it music, movie, or play. It is classic for a reason—probably because it strikes a universal chord.
3) You already know what is right and what is wrong. You have been learning that since Primary. In my opinion, styles of music and subjects for movies are not inherently good or bad, but messages they send can be. Learn the difference between the subject of the movie or music and the message it sends.
Now, as important as seeking out that which is of good report is, it is also our responsibility to use our own talents to replenish the pool of praiseworthy things that others may draw from. We may sometimes feel that we have no talents or little to offer. If you don't remember anything else I say here today I want you to remember this: everyone, everyone, has a talent, an ability, an aptitude, a gift—it only waits to be discovered and developed.
The Lord told Joseph Smith:
"...and to every man is given a gift...to some is given one, and to some is given another, that all may be profited thereby." (D&C 46:11-12)
Sometimes we are timid in the recognition and use of our own talents, feeling at times that they are meager or unremarkable. There are always those who will be more or less talented than one's self. Comparison of our talents with others often invites disappointment. The real test is the work and desire that brings any talents our Heavenly Father has given us to fruition, and in appreciating the talents that he has given to others. Striving to "be the best" can prove to be hollow and unrewarding—driven as it often is by competition and ego. However, striving always to "do your best" honors the talents and gifts that have been given you by Heavenly Father, recognizing that your contribution, great or small, can be laid upon the altar for the benefit of others and the glory of God. That is where fulfillment in life lies.
The impact of our contribution, however, very often has much more to do with our desire than the level of our talent. President Boyd K. Packer has said:
"Inspiration can come to those whose talents are barely adequate, and their contribution will be felt for generations; and the Church and kingdom of God will move forward just a little more easily because they have been here."
It is likely that most of you have not heard of Naomi Randall. She is not well known as a great songwriter or lyricist. She was a member of the Primary Board in 1957. She was asked by the Primary to write a song that would teach children about their relationship to Heavenly Father. This is her account:
I got down on my knees and prayed aloud, pleading that our Heavenly Father would let me know the right words. Around 2 a.m. I awakened and began to think about a song. Words came to my mind. I immediately got up and began to write the words down as they had come to me. Three verses and a chorus were soon formed. I gratefully surveyed the work, drank (in) the message of the words and returned to my bedroom where I knelt before my Heavenly Father to say 'Thank you.'
Sister Randall had composed the children's hymn "I Am a Child of God." Her friend Mildred Petit furnished the tune. As simple and as humble as that little song is, it has been translated into 90 languages and is sung by congregations worldwide. It has been performed by the Tabernacle Choir and is arguably one of the most recognized songs of the Restoration.
I would commend to you the format that was revealed by Sister Randall's description as a recipe for any artistic creation, religious or otherwise.
1) She did not doubt her ability to do it.
2) She asked the Lord's help.
3) She thought about her task.
4) When inspiration struck she immediately set to work.
5) She reviewed what she had done.
6) She returned thanks to God for his help.
Brothers and Sisters, in conclusion I would want each of you to feel as I do that the world is a place of unlimited beauty and opportunity. Yes, we should avoid unrighteousness in our lives and recognize the evil that exists in the world, but in truth we are required to do more than that. We should embrace goodness and beauty. We should seek culture. We should enthusiastically pursue opportunities that will educate us and better us. Only then can we say that we have been true to the Prophet Joseph's hope that we have sought the better things in life.
We should stand amazed at what mankind has accomplished through the inspiration of God every time we travel in a jet airplane, stand at the base of a towering skyscraper, survey the mighty span of a modern bridge, view a wonderful play or watch an inspiring movie, listen to beautiful music or see magnificent art. At these moments you will feel the joy of being alive. These fruits of our humanity and our divinity should represent to us a fundamental triumph over satanic influence.
What is the "heart" of the Mormon people? I hope it is not one of cultural blandness. I hope it is not one of not caring or not trying. I hope it is not one of succumbing to the endless distraction that leads to arriving nowhere. Can we honestly say we are fulfilling Joseph Smith's description of us to Mr. Wentworth that we as a people and as individuals are seeking virtue, beauty and excellence? I hope we can. I hope we are. I hope we will.
Brothers and Sisters it is my prayer that we will remember the Prophet Joseph's words—that we will not only seek out the best that this world has to offer us, but that we will in turn contribute our best as well. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.