Seek Ye Out of the Best Books

Good morning, brothers and sisters. You’re an inspiring sight. I think I understand more completely Elder David A. Bednar’s vision of this sacred space as a gathering place.¹

I’ve taken as a title for my remarks advice the Savior gave to the young Church through the Prophet Joseph Smith: “Seek ye out of the best books.”² My focus, however, doesn’t concern the acquisition of a prescribed education; you’re already here to get that. Rather, it’s about continuing an informal education. I acknowledge that this topic has been presented at this pulpit previously, but I hope to add my humble “widow’s mites,”³ so to speak, to the devotional treasury.

In 2007, President Gordon B. Hinckley told the youth of the Church, simply but solemnly, “You must get all of the education that you possibly can.”⁴ He was referring primarily to formal schooling, but expanded his definition to include “the education of the heart . . . conscience . . . character, [and] . . . spirit.”⁵ This is exactly what the “best books” have to offer.

For several years, I’ve been writing to a young man in prison. Knowing him to be an avid reader, and in preparation for this opportunity, I asked him to estimate how many books he’s read since his incarceration. His answer: “Luckily for you, I keep track of every book I read. In the last five years, I’ve read 443 books.” On average, that’s about one book every four days.

His fiction reads include The Count of Monte Cristo, Les Misérables, The Great Gatsby, 1984, and Huckleberry Finn. As for non-fiction, because he’s married and the father of two sons, he prioritizes books on relationships and parenting. Circumstances permitting, he reads books with his boys—an activity that, he says, “binds him to his family.”

Other reading material includes magazines: “I’ve maintained subscriptions to [about thirty of them, including] about a dozen food magazines because it’s the only time I get to see decent food.”

Best of all, he’s read Jesus the Christ, and continues to read the standard works and the Liahona. Perhaps like you, I wondered how he obtained Church publications. Answer: “As part of its humanitarian efforts, the Church donates more than 50,000 volumes of Church literature to prisons every year.”⁶

He also listens to parenting podcasts, which he believes fulfills the Savior’s hope that we “teach one another words of wisdom.”⁷ He takes notes that he then shares with his wife when she visits. He says, “I figure [it’s] a way I can help parent from in here.”

He even reads to his cellmates when their reading levels are inadequate. Many inmates have told him that they’d never read a book before coming to prison. Additionally, he’s helped several others finish their high school equivalency diploma. As for himself, he’s earned two associate degrees—one in horticulture, the other in small business management—in hopes of supporting his family upon his release.⁸

Lastly, if I may make a selfish admission, he’s actually helped me live the gospel a little bit better. Every time I drop off his letter at the post office, I recall those tender scriptures from Matthew 25 in which the Savior says, figuratively: “I was in prison, and ye came unto me”⁹ and, a few verses later, “inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”¹⁰ Recall the story Sister Susan H. Porter related last week, about the Primary boy who put his arm around his little buddy who had fallen on the hard classroom floor.¹¹ I hope I can be as helpful to my friend, circumstances notwithstanding.

Now, back to that book number: 443. As impressive as it is, it’s not just about the number. Much more meaningful is that my friend has chosen to spend his time wisely and productively. If anyone has an excuse to be discouraged or detached, it’s him. But his faith, family, and friends—along with his reading—sustain him. So this morning, rather than quantity, let’s consider quality—hence the Lord’s superlative: the “best books.” To quote American educator Mortimer Adler, “The point is not to see how many [books] you can get through, but rather how many [books] can get through to you.”¹²

In defining and therefore distinguishing among what qualifies as good books, or better books, or the “best books,” I’ll offer you two dependable filters:

• Fifteen years ago, then-elder Dallin H. Oaks delivered a particularly memorable general conference address entitled, conveniently, “Good, Better, Best.” He states, “[It isn’t] enough that something is good. Other choices are better, and still others are best.” Those things that are best, he counsels, “develop faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.”¹³ If we apply Elder Oaks’ criteria to today’s topic, we may reasonably and safely conclude that the “best books” also bolster belief and foster faith.
• Let the thirteenth Article of Faith be your guide as you determine literary eligibility. If a work is considered by reputable, reliable sources to be “virtuous, [or] lovely, or of good report[,] or praiseworthy, [then] seek after th[is] thing.”¹⁴ This bit of advice, incidentally, was the most common response on the devotional discussion board, so thank you for that confirmation.

I’ve come to believe that the Lord’s guidance in Section 88 isn’t merely a pleasant idea, nor is it a casual form of encouragement. In 1830, the Church’s founding year, the Lord instructed the Prophet, “Verily I say unto you that all things unto me are spiritual, and not at any time have I given unto you a law which was temporal.”¹⁵ “Seek” is the verb the Savior solemnly selected to describe our educational efforts. To seek something denotes determination; it’s a deliberate act of exploration, of investigation, driven by a desire for discovery. Seeking “learning . . . by study . . . by faith”¹⁶ yields intellectual, social, emotional, and spiritual benefits—growth, certainly, but also refinement.

I regularly teach my literature students one of my favorite poems, “Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms,” published in 1808 by Thomas Moore, one of Ireland’s most beloved poets.

Essentially, the poem is about the fading of physical beauty, but it’s also about eventual compensation for this perceiveddegeneration. I realize this theme is potentially problematic in this more enlightened age; even so, I think Moore tenderly and gracefully delivers an ultimately uplifting message. He’s keenly aware of superficiality, as you’re about to see.

There’s a backstory, possibly anecdotal, surrounding the composition of this poem:¹⁷ Moore married a legendarily beautiful actress. While in her prime, Bessy, as she was known, contracted smallpox—a viral disease, now eradicated, that often left its sufferers heavily scarred. Apparently, Bessy was so affected that she locked herself in her bedroom, refusing to leave. Believing herself to be unsightly and therefore unlovable, nothing her husband said could convince her otherwise. In desperation, Moore did what any self-respecting poet would do: he wrote her a poem to compel her to re-emerge and re-engage. (If you’re a romantic, or at all gushy, and you brought tissues with you today, now would be a good time to pull them out.)

"Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,

Which I gaze on so fondly today, Were to change by tomorrow, and fleet in my arms,

Like fairy-gifts fading away—Thou wouldst still be adored as this moment thou art,

Let thy loveliness fade as it will; And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart

Would entwine itself verdantly still!

It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,

And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear, That the fervor and faith of a soul can be known,

To which time will but make thee more dear! Oh, the heart, that has truly loved, never forgets,

But as truly loves on to the close; As the sunflower turns on her god, when he sets,

The same look which she turned when he rose!"¹⁸

After the recitation, there was no response. Dejected, Moore turned and began descending the staircase . . . when he heard the door unlock and slowly open. Bessy tearfully emerged, encouraged by her husband’s proof of unconditional love. She had convinced herself that he was going to abandon her because of her altered appearance; he never did.

While you’re composing yourselves, I’ll tell you what I believe the moral here really is: beauty is more than skin deep. Do you remember when, in The Princess Bride, Westley reassures Buttercup, “Death cannot stop true love”?¹⁹ Moore’s poem similarly proposes that disease and aging—and, for that matter, a negative self-image and/or a fear of rejection—can’t stop it either. Moore’s message goes beyond Bessy’s blemishes. Each of us is acutely aware of our imperfections. Tom comes along and says we’re lovable anyway, that beauty sometimes really is in the eye of the beholder. Three of the four gospels record that the Savior—the Beholder—touched a leper, healing him instantaneously.²⁰ The Great Physician saw the patient’s condition, but He saw through it as well.

Moore perceived what his wife believed. If a simple poem can smooth a complexion, and consequently soothe a despondent soul, lengthier literatures—the “best books”—can likewise treat the more serious concerns affecting the human condition. You’re now a slightly better person for having heard his poem; someday, it may comfort those whom you unconditionally love if they struggle when coming to terms with physical decline. If you’re now eager for an opportunity, Father’s Day is this Sunday.

The “best books” may serve as a safeguard against two of our greatest modern concerns: loneliness and isolation. My confined friend confided, “During the pandemic, my books kept me sane.” We’ll all experience moments of emotional incarceration, of mental imprisonment, so to speak. The finest texts, like other uplifting works of art, can ease that encumbrance and “speak peace to our souls.”²¹ 

A lifelong love of literature will bring much needed balance, and maybe more meaning, to an occupationally burdened life. There’s a famous line from Shakespeare’s play As You Like It: “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.”²² With all due respect to Shakespeare, I think he’s wrong; we’re more than “merely players,” a reference that suggests our lives are transitory and inconsequential. Our doctrine differs.

I prefer a quote from the late actor Robin Williams to Shakespeare’s line. It comes from Williams’ character in the 1989 film Dead Poets Society, in which he plays an English teacher at a New England prep school trying to convince his students that perhaps poetry should take precedence over prestige, that meter may matter more than money:

"We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. . . . Medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love—these are what we stay alive for."²³

Then, like some of the best teachers on this campus, he ends class with a soul-penetrating observation and follow-up question: “The powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?”²⁴ “All the men and women merely players” vs. “What will your verse be?” The former is faithless consignment; the latter is curious optimism.

The ”best books” can counter the negative influences of inferior media—an issue the US surgeon general raised just a few weeks ago.²⁵ Cheap media is like sugar: it’s widely promoted, readily available, easily ingested, quickly absorbed, substantively questionable, and potentially harmful in large quantities. Then-elder Oaks observed, “Some young people are amusing themselves to death—spiritual death.”^{26, 27} Among the adversary’s most pervasive and effective tactics is distraction by diversion—inducing us to discount, ignore, or forget altogether what Matthew’s gospel calls “the weightier matters.”²⁸

Perhaps you’re apprehensive about how to begin. If there’s such a thing as “writer’s block,” maybe there’s such a thing as “reader’s block.” Remember the apostle Peter’s advice for both baby-feeding and doctrine-teaching—milk before meat²⁹—in conjunction with King Benjamin’s alleviating statement, “It is not requisite that a man [or woman] should run faster than he [or she] has strength.”³⁰ Pace yourself accordingly. My recommendation is to begin with poems, then short stories, then plays, then short novels, then longer novels. Or begin with a classic novel for which you’ve seen an accurate, engrossing film adaptation. Or peruse a well-regarded collection comprised of selections made by trusted editors, such as Deseret Books’ Best-Loved series.

If you’d like to know the kind of company you’d be keeping by actually reading the “best books,” look no further than President Hinckley. At the University of Utah, he recalled reading “the whole gamut of English literature—from [medieval] to modern times.” He undertook “intensive work on Shakespeare and the Elizabethan and Victorian writers” and even “took a class . . . in poetry composition.”³¹

Attesting to their upstanding character and uplifting work, some of those writers whom President Hinckley studied were among those baptized by proxy in the St. George Temple under the direction of Wilford Woodruff following his vision of the Founding Fathers in 1877. Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Jane Austen, and Charlotte Brontë—apostolically acknowledged as “eminent women”—were baptized by proxy on August 23, one day after our nation’s patriarchs.³²

There may be some scriptural justification for reading Shakespeare and company. When one of our former faculty members was asked why she bothered to teach 400-year-old drama, she incisively countered, “So my students can read the Bible better”—meaning the King James Version, the rendering we use in the Church, published in 1611 during Shakespeare’s lifetime.

As a mobile post-Millennial,³³ maybe you’re reluctant to haul books around as you shuffle between dorms and basements. The pioneers would empathize: they lugged a library of 675 books 1200 miles to the Salt Lake valley. These volumes, originally amassed in Nauvoo, included “works on science, . . . religion, and history,”³⁴ and became the “nucleus of the first library” in the western United States. Mentally bookmark this: Joseph Smith himself “maintained a [substantial] personal collection,” and “contributed 50 books to establish an early lending library” among the Saints.³⁵

Please understand, I’m not advocating substituting scripture; indeed, the “best books” will complement scriptural themes, reinforce scriptural values, and amplify scriptural passages. Most of my associates in the English Department can, during virtually any literature class, move seamlessly between authors and apostles, poets and playwrights and prophets. To quote a colleague, it’s “academic freedom at its best. No artificial distinction between secular and sacred, heart and mind, reason and faith.”³⁶

In some cases, great literature may be comparably scriptural. Vaughn J. Featherstone, a General Authority for nearly three decades, testified: “Les Misérables has had a more profound influence on my life than anything else I have ever read other than the scriptures.”³⁷ He’d read the unabridged version—all 1200+ pages—five times and predicted that he’d read it “one or two more times, at least” before leaving mortality. He did just that, before his passing in 2018. My own exposure to Les Misérables, as well as The Count of Monte Cristo—both novels in which the protagonists are imprisoned for long periods of time—helped compel me to reach out to the friend I referenced earlier. I might not be able to sympathize, but I can empathize, “and that,” to appropriate a line from American poet Robert Frost, “has made all the difference.”³⁸

My father valued education, and my mother valued reading.

Despite our tiny, two-bedroom home in southern California, we had an enormous bookshelf running the length of a wall in the den. My early experience with books seems to parallel that of President Hinckley. Describing his childhood home, he said, “We had a big library [with] bookcases all around. We had more than 1,000 volumes there, I’m sure. We weren’t forced to read the books, but we were exposed to them.” Later, in his own home, President Hinckley’s bookshelves housed the 50-volume Harvard Classics series, as well as “some good anthologies [of] both English and American poetry.”³⁹

So as you anticipate “establish[ing your own] house . . . of learning,”⁴⁰ and before you buy that 85-inch 4K/UHD/QLED/LCD TV, spare a thought, if not adequate space, for the humble bookshelf.

My wife and I made reading a priority with each of our six children, all of whom learned to read before entering preschool. What we didn’t anticipate is that their confidence in reading helped them with every class, including math and science, throughout their formative years.

Continuing this tradition, my oldest daughter and her husband faithfully read to their two young sons every day. Trending in their home right now is Grumpy Monkey, about a chimpanzee, named Jim . . . Panzee, who is easily irritated when his animal friends act like themselves.⁴¹

Authors and poets and playwrights, like Westley in The Princess Bride, are only “mostly dead”;⁴² they want their work to live on through you despite time and distance and circumstance. Recalling Sister Porter again, let them become part of your great “cloud of witnesses.”⁴³ They were their generations’ influencers, proffering “words of wisdom” to their followers, everything from pride and prejudice to sense and sensibility.

Someday, you’ll write your own history. Try to imagine your descendants eagerly reading it—your future son, perhaps, snuggling with your preschool grandson on a comfy couch. Your literacy—your facility with language, your familiarity with literature—will help you vividly capture your life’s snapshots more captivatingly. Give them, leave them, something ChatGPT never can. President Spencer W. Kimball predicted and promised that “rich passages” from your narrative “will be quoted by your posterity” and even suggested that “angels may quote from it for eternity.”⁴⁴

Your Heavenly Father has blessed you with a beautiful mind, and now it’s your right and responsibility to develop it to its fullest extent. I testify that “seek[ing] . . . the ‘best books’” is one way to esteem His gift.

In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Notes

1. See David A. Bednar, “The Spirit and Purposes of Gathering,” BYU-Idaho Devotional, Oct. 31, 2006, https://www.byui.edu/devotionals/elder-david-a-bednar-fall-2006.
2. Doctrine and Covenants 88:118.
3. See Mark 12:42.
4. Gordon B. Hinckley, “Seek Learning,” New Era, Sept. 2007, https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/new-era/2007/09/words-of-the-prophet-seek-learning.
5. Ibid.
6. “Prison Ministry,” Gospel Topics, https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/manual/gospel-topics/prison-ministry.
7. Doctrine and Covenants 88:118.
8. Letter in possession of speaker.
9. Matthew 25:36.
10. Matthew 25:40.
11. Susan H. Porter, “So Great a Cloud of Witnesses,” BYU-Idaho Devotional, June 6, 2023, https://www.byui.edu//devotionals/president-susan-h-porter.
12. Bill Bradfield, Books and Reading: A Book of Quotations (New York: Dover Publications, 2002), 1.
13. Dallin H. Oaks, “Good, Better, Best,” Ensign, Nov. 2007, https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/ensign/2007/11/good-better-best.
14. Articles of Faith 1:13.
15. Doctrine and Covenants 29:34.
16. Doctrine and Covenants 88:118.
17. See Robert D. Hales, “The Prince of Peace: ‘Peace I Give unto You,’” BYU Speeches, June 1, 1986, https://speeches.byu.edu/talks/robert-d-hales/prince-peace-peace-give-unto/; Robert B. Harbertson, “Families,” BYU Speeches, June 2, 1985, https://speeches.byu.edu/talks/robert-b-harbertson/families/.
18. Thomas Moore, John Stevenson, and Henry Rowley Bishop, “Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms,” A Selection of Irish Melodies (London: J. Power, 1808), 112.
19. The Princess Bride, directed by Rob Reiner (20th Century Fox, 1987).
20. See Matthew 8:2–3, Mark 1:40–42, and Luke 5:12–13.
21. Alma 58:11.
22. William Shakespeare, As You Like It, ed. Barbara Mowat and Paul Werstine (Washington, DC: Folger Shakespeare Library, n.d.), 2.7.146–147.
23. Dead Poets Society, directed by Peter Weir (Buena Vista Pictures: 1989).
24. Dead Poets Society, directed by Peter Weir (Buena Vista Pictures: 1989); N. H. Kleinbaum, Dead Poets Society (New York: Disney Hyperion, 1989), 41–42.
25. See Matt Richtel, Catherine Pearson, and Michael Levenson, “Surgeon General Warns That Social Media May Harm Children and Adolescents,” The New York Times, 23 May 2023, https://www.nytimes.com/2023/05/23/health/surgeon-general-social-media-mental-health.html.
26. Oaks, “Good, Better, Best.”
27. See Neil Postman, Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business (New York: Viking Penguin, 1985).
28. See Matthew 23:23.
29. See Hebrews 5:11–14; 1 Corinthians 3:2; 1 Peter 2:1–3.
30. Mosiah 4:27.
31. Dell Van Orden, “Pres. Hinckley Notes His 85th Birthday, Reminisces About Life,” Deseret News, June 24, 1995, https://www.deseret.com/1995/6/24/20768686/pres-hinckley-notes-his-85th-birthday-reminisces-about-life; Sheri L. Dew, Go Forward with Faith: The Biography of Gordon B. Hinckley (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1996), 45–46.
32. See Brian H. Stuy, “Wilford Woodruff’s Vision of the Signers of the Declaration of Independence,” Journal of Mormon History, Spring 2000, 64–90, https://www.jstor.org/stable/23288590.
33. See Michael Dimock, “Defining Generations: Where Millennials End and Generation Z Begins,” Pew Research Center, Jan. 17, 2019, https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2019/01/17/where-millennials-end-and-generation-z-begins/.
34. Susan Easton Black, “Early Quorums of the Seventies,” BYU Religious Studies Center, https://rsc.byu.edu/firm-foundation/early-quorums-seventies.
35. John S. Tanner, “‘One of the Great Lights of the World’: Seeking Learning by Study and Faith at BYU,” BYU Speeches, Aug. 23, 2005, https://speeches.byu.edu/talks/john-s-tanner/one-great-lights-world-seeking-learning-study-faith-byu/.
36. Thomas B. Griffith, “The Simple Yet Profound Influence of a Master Teacher,” Humanities Magazine, College of Humanities, Brigham Young University, Spring 2023, 32.
37. Vaughn J. Featherstone, The Incomparable Christ: Our Master and Model (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1995), 186.
38. Robert Frost, “The Road Not Taken,” 101 Great American Poems (New York: Dover Publications, 1998), 49–50.
39. Orden, “Pres. Hinckley Notes His 85th Birthday, Reminisces About Life.”
40. Doctrine and Covenants 88:119.
41. Suzanne Lang, Grumpy Money (New York City: Random House, 2018).
42. The Princess Bride.
43. Porter, “So Great a Cloud of Witnesses”; Hebrews 12:1.
44. Spencer W. Kimball, “That Angels May Quote from It,” New Era, Oct. 1975, https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/new-era/1975/10/the-angels-may-quote-from-it.