With the First Presidency's announcement that Sunday meetings of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints will be shortened to two hours, there are a lot of changes. For the most part, I am excited to move forward and see what the Lord has planned. When they announced three years ago that they were going to put a renewed and increased emphasis on making the Sabbath a delight, and worshipping at home, I had no idea they were preparing us for this. And who knows what this is preparing us for!?
But amid the rush and excitement, I do need to mourn for one of the changes. I need to in part because I know almost no one else will mourn its passing: The second hour will not begin with a hymn.
In the fuzzy haze of my childhood memories, there are three that stand out vividly from when I was 8 years old as being most defining. I was baptized and confirmed a member of the restored Church, and I can still recall some of the things I saw and felt at those special moments. I listened to a prophet of God, Ezra Taft Benson, speak to the children - the first time I paid attention during General Conference, from a hard metal chair in the cultural hall of our stake center - about the truth and importance of the Book of Mormon. It was the first time I recognized the Holy Ghost speaking to me, testifying that what he said was true.
The third was a Sunday when I was sick and had stayed home from Church. When Dad came home, he told us that the elderly brother who usually played the piano was sick, and so he led the brethren in singing a capella. At that moment, I felt a burning desire to learn how to play the piano - which I had never even considered before - because it would be the Coolest Thing in the World to play for priesthood and have Dad lead the music.
I started taking lessons a few months later. When we moved to Santa Barbara at age 11, it seemed certain that I would never have the chance to play for priesthood. Among the brethren in our ward we had: the 3rd greatest organist in the world, a professional orchestra leader who could play organ, a professional piano teacher, and a brother who could play well. I turned 12, and within 6 weeks the organist moved to the MidWest, the orchestra leader moved to northern California, the piano teacher switched wards, and the brother who could play was called as a mission president.
And there was little Derrill who could play all of 2 hymns: Did You Think to Pray and Praise to the Man. And so I played; Dad conducted. A dream was fulfilled. The bishopric encouraged me to learn a few more hymns. I did. I became assistant ward organist at 15 and organist at 16. And I'm ... still playing. Almost nothing brings me greater peace or satisfaction as playing the hymns.
When I felt shut out by the other youth and wondered why I even went to church, it was my calling playing music at church that helped me keep going until I found my own answer.
It was that feeling, that it would be the Coolest Thing in the World to play in priesthood, that helped me start to recognize the voice of the Spirit that I have relied on time and again.
That feeling came again when on my mission that encouraged me to apply to be a temple ordinance worker, which is about the only thing more joyful to me than playing the hymns.
I support the Brethren. I look forward to the opportunities that are coming. But I wanted a few minutes to speak in praise of the importance of a hymn in a young man's life.
But amid the rush and excitement, I do need to mourn for one of the changes. I need to in part because I know almost no one else will mourn its passing: The second hour will not begin with a hymn.
In the fuzzy haze of my childhood memories, there are three that stand out vividly from when I was 8 years old as being most defining. I was baptized and confirmed a member of the restored Church, and I can still recall some of the things I saw and felt at those special moments. I listened to a prophet of God, Ezra Taft Benson, speak to the children - the first time I paid attention during General Conference, from a hard metal chair in the cultural hall of our stake center - about the truth and importance of the Book of Mormon. It was the first time I recognized the Holy Ghost speaking to me, testifying that what he said was true.
The third was a Sunday when I was sick and had stayed home from Church. When Dad came home, he told us that the elderly brother who usually played the piano was sick, and so he led the brethren in singing a capella. At that moment, I felt a burning desire to learn how to play the piano - which I had never even considered before - because it would be the Coolest Thing in the World to play for priesthood and have Dad lead the music.
I started taking lessons a few months later. When we moved to Santa Barbara at age 11, it seemed certain that I would never have the chance to play for priesthood. Among the brethren in our ward we had: the 3rd greatest organist in the world, a professional orchestra leader who could play organ, a professional piano teacher, and a brother who could play well. I turned 12, and within 6 weeks the organist moved to the MidWest, the orchestra leader moved to northern California, the piano teacher switched wards, and the brother who could play was called as a mission president.
And there was little Derrill who could play all of 2 hymns: Did You Think to Pray and Praise to the Man. And so I played; Dad conducted. A dream was fulfilled. The bishopric encouraged me to learn a few more hymns. I did. I became assistant ward organist at 15 and organist at 16. And I'm ... still playing. Almost nothing brings me greater peace or satisfaction as playing the hymns.
When I felt shut out by the other youth and wondered why I even went to church, it was my calling playing music at church that helped me keep going until I found my own answer.
It was that feeling, that it would be the Coolest Thing in the World to play in priesthood, that helped me start to recognize the voice of the Spirit that I have relied on time and again.
That feeling came again when on my mission that encouraged me to apply to be a temple ordinance worker, which is about the only thing more joyful to me than playing the hymns.
I support the Brethren. I look forward to the opportunities that are coming. But I wanted a few minutes to speak in praise of the importance of a hymn in a young man's life.
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