Church (early years part 2)

Please be warned that this post contains details about my life that some might not be interested in reading. Any post marked as personal will contain events that are just that, personal. Feel free to continue reading only if you want to hear about my life. This post also deals with things that could be fairly foreign to anyone that isn't familiar with the LDS church (mormons.)

I was raised in the Church of Jesus Christ and Latter Day Saints. Church was our life, everything revolved around the church. My grandparents on my father’s side were members, and the church goes back 5 generations on my mother’s side. My parents got married in the temple, and were always extremely active in the church. Before I was born, they had held nearly all the different callings in the church at different times, and never went long between callings. I have early memories of the block schedule, (which stopped in 1980, so I must have been 2-3) I can remember coming home between church sessions and sometimes having to go back.

I can remember my first day as a sunbeam; I loved the nursery, they had great toys and snacks. I waited until the end of closing prayer in sacrament meeting and ran out through the doors down the hall and into the nursery room ahead of my mom. She caught up with me after I had picked out the toy I was going to play with and told me I was too old to be in the nursery now, and that I would have to go to primary like all the other big kids. I was so sad, and cried, I didn't want to leave my fun. She took me down the hall to a bigger room that was filled with little chairs and other little kids, found the right row of seats for the sunbeams and sat me down. She left me there with a bunch of strangers to me, while she went off to her Relief Society class. I felt so out of place, so strange; I didn't know what to do. I observed the other kids that were sitting next to me and just followed along with what they did. We sang songs, listened to some talks, heard some announcements, it was just like sacrament meeting all over again, but just with other kids. Finally, it was time to go to our classroom, and my sunbeam teacher took my hand and showed me where I was supposed to be. It still felt strange for the next few weeks going to primary, it wasn't as much fun as the nursery, but it wasn't so bad once I got comfortable with the process.

My parents were in the church choir all their life and they would talk about someday when they retired they would like to be in the tabernacle choir. During special sacrament meetings, the choir would sing a song or two that they had been practicing. When the time came for them to sing all the choir members would get up from their families and walk to the front of the meeting room, in the stands behind the pulpit. I was well behaved even at very early age, and my dad would tell me that I had to be good and quiet while they were up there singing or else I'd be in trouble after. I would sit there with my sister waiting for them to finish singing and return to us, hoping I was quiet and good enough. During a normal sacrament meeting, the audience usually sings three songs from the hymnbook. I would hold one-half of the books with my sister and try to sing along. I couldn't read yet, but I tried to find the words that my parents and sister were singing by listening closely. Many different times when the meeting was over some older person (usually old grandparents in the ward that didn't have kids anymore) would come up to my family or me and tell us how special we were for being so well behaved and singing. If only other families in the ward were like us. I loved singing in primary, and was always quick to learn and memorize the songs. I remember thinking it was so strange that other kids would just mumble along or just sit there and refuse to sing along. Later when I was older (10-13) I sang in the ward choir as well. I would stand up there in the soprano section with all the women and sing with them. I was the only boy to do this that I was aware of, and I loved to sing.

Growing up in the church, I was always volunteering for assignments for primary: talks, weekly scripture, or prayers. I liked making my teachers feel happy, and always answered the lesson questions if no one else would. I knew they got sad if others weren't paying attention, so I always wanted them to see I was paying attention. The answers were always easy, usually pray, read the scriptures or ask and listen to your parents, or they would be related specifically to something that was in the story just told. Every year it was the same thing, same lessons with different stories and different teachers, but always the same answers. On the ride home after church Dad would always ask us what we learned that day in church and we would have to tell him at least one thing. I prided myself on the fact that I always participated in primary, in our classes and never had to be sent to my parents for being disruptive.

Sundays were church days, and everything we did on that day had to be quiet, reverent and focused in some way with the church or family. I would usually be woken up in the morning by classical or church (tabernacle choir) music from my parents big record stereo. (We didn't listen to modern music as a family) We would get up and get ready to go to church, eat some cereal for breakfast, wash, get dressed and get into the car to go. We always had to get there early; my dad would not allow us to be late. After church mom would start to get dinner ready if we were expecting company. We often had people over for dinner on Sunday afternoon, new families that just moved into the ward, missionaries that were serving in our area, sometimes it would be one of my brothers or sisters and their children over.

We had a formal dining room attached to a living room in the house I grew up in. We never dined in the dining room, unless it was a very special occasion and even then, it was for adults only. The attached living room had our "nice" furniture, and we weren't allowed to play in the living room. This is the room where we would spend our Sundays, or take company to talk with when they came to visit. We had to read scriptures quietly, or write in our journals, read the "funnies" from the Sunday paper, or play a quiet board game with my sister. My dad would be reading the paper, reading scriptures or church books, or snoring in a chair. My mom would spend her time between the living room and the kitchen getting dinner ready.

My dad was looked upon as the unofficial church "historian" of the ward. He was the guy that could answer any question about church doctrine or history in his High Priests meeting or "Sunday school" (usually he would go to gospel doctrine so he could help with the lessons) class. He had a huge library of church books and history and was an avid reader and studier of the scriptures. So it wasn't uncommon for church friends to come over after dinner on Sunday and have discussions with my dad. My sister and I usually had to sit there for the first hour or two and listen to my dad talk about the same hundred stories or topics. When the home teachers would come over, they would usually spend the first 5-10 minutes giving a short lesson out of the Friend (church magazine for kids) and then spend the next hour talking with my parents about that month’s home teaching lesson. Usually it ended up with my dad doing most of the teaching with the home teachers nodding and agreeing with what he was saying. Sometimes the discussion would revolve around the garden that my dad was growing. Ever year my dad grew a huge garden and grew things that most people in the St. George heat couldn't grow. So he would answer questions and give tips on how to grow everything.

On days that weren’t, Sundays church was still an important part of our life. We had daily morning and night family prayers, daily family scripture reading, and we always ate our dinners together. We would talk about our day during that time. Monday night was Family night we spent the entire evening singing a song, going over a lesson, and then doing an activity together. Other nights of the week if my parents weren't doing something for the church they would work in the garden, or be reading, or visiting with neighbors or family. Daily family scripture reading was always a focus of my childhood. Even before I could read, when it came my turn to read the next verse, my mom would whisper the words in my ear for me to repeat aloud. When my sister turned nine she had been asking for a horse for many years, my dad made her a promise that if she would personally read the book of Mormon from cover to cover she would get a horse. By the time, she was 10 she had read the entire book of Mormon and she got her horse.

General conference was held twice a year and was shown on TV in Utah. This was the only Sunday were allowed to stay home from church, but we had to watch conference on the TV. Not only did we have to watch it on Sunday, but also both sessions on Saturday. Except on Saturday, we were allowed to have friends over if they wanted to watch it with us. We had to take notes about each talk and afterwards we were quizzed on what each talk was about, and which overall talk we liked the most and why. I can remember sitting through the announcements of church leadership changes waiting to hear my dad’s name called for church leadership. We were always taught that he was a righteous man and that he had a special calling here on earth. That someday the lord would ask him to do some very important things. What those things were, weren't expanded upon, and as kids, we were aware of what was not supposed to be talked about to anyone else. Some things you don't tell other people because they aren't members of the church and wouldn't understand or something things you don't talk about because they aren't righteous enough and Satan might use them for evil if he knew what the lord was doing.

Prayer and personal revelation was the underlying precept of my childhood. We were taught at every opportunity that through prayer our lives were guided by our Heavenly Father. He was watching over us all the time, and knew what was best for us and all we had to do was ask him and he would make sure things worked out, as he wanted them to. When I was 3-4 I had trouble with my temper, I was taught that I was to say a silent prayer to ask for peace. When I lost my hermit crab, my mom suggested we pray and then she found it immediately. When I was sad, I was taught to pray. When good things happened I was taught to pray and give thanks. When things were going bad, I was taught to pray to ask for guidance. I was taught that I wouldn't always get what I wanted, but if I prayed, the lord would bless me and I would live the life that he wanted for me.

All of the church teachings and commandments were taught on a daily basis in my home and they were followed. I had a cardboard "piggy" bank that had one slot for tithing (10%), one slot for saving for my mission, and another slot for savings. Every time I received money, from either allowance or gifts, I always paid my tithing, even before I was 8. My sister paid her tithing as well. We were taught that we should live every commandment to the fullest, so often I would pay 20% or more in tithing, because if 10% was what the lord was asking for, I wanted to please him and give more than what he was asking.

When I was 11 I was staying over at a friend’s house in town. He was having a sleepover party and had some other friends there. We got permission from his parents to walk to the movie theater to go see a movie. As we were walking over, I heard them joking around that they should go see a different movie than the one they said they were going to see. A few of them wanted to see Major League, which was rated R. A couple were afraid that the movie place wouldn't let us in, but one kid had a non-member father and he said that he could have the movie theater call him and get his ok for us to get in and see it. I tried to talk them out of it; I didn't feel comfortable going and seeing a rated R movie. I was taught that the prophet told us we shouldn't see those kinds of movies, and what the prophet tells us is a commandment. All the other kids got in and saw Major League, the movie theater didn't care about their age, but I decided to get a ticket for the PG movie that we had said we were going to see. I don't even remember what movie I saw, but I do remember calling my parents when we got back from the movies to be picked up. I was disappointed in my friends that they would break the commandments like that. To me going to an R rated movie wasn't even an option.

One of the commandments is that when we are old enough we are to get married in the temple. I was always aware and looking out for who might be the special girl the lord was preparing for my wife. Every year in primary I would watch the girls and see which were the most righteous: the ones that were paying attention to the lessons, giving talks or volunteering for prayers. In my mind, I was always wondering if they would be the one. The temple was a very important place, and our eternal lives depended on one day getting married there. I must follow and live all the commandments and be worthy for when the day came that I would meet my future wife. If I was bad, I would miss meeting her and she would find another, and I would have to marry someone who wasn't the one that the lord had planned for me. If I were righteous, he would make sure that when the time was right we would find each other. I was taught to be respectful to women and girls, and that I should open doors for them, or allow them to drink from the water fountain first. I was taught that I should watch out for them and be prepared to protect them from teasing or other kids being mean. Boys were meant to have the priesthood, and girls would grow up to be mothers, they were special and always were to be treated with respect.

I hope this gives you an idea of how important the church and its commandments were for me as a child. Everything was about the church, and I was a good boy. I was reverent, could be quiet and sit still while adults were talking. I knew all of the commandments and lived them 100%. Prayer and personal inspiration was the guiding factor in my life. I was always the kid that the ward held to the highest standard. I was the one that everyone was told to be more like. I lived to set the example. I was kind and always did what I was told to do by my church teachers, leaders and parents. I could be counted on to volunteer for assignments or complete tasks that were assigned to me. My friends were always church members, or other kids that were inactive or that might need some missionary work. I was the perfect church boy, and didn't know anything else. There wasn't any other way to be, I was living how everyone was (I was told everyone was) taught that heavenly father wanted them to live and act.

I was also always constantly disappointed and confused by my peers. I couldn't understand how they could make the decisions they were making, or acting they way they acted, or "know" the right thing to do and not do it. I was always embarrassed by their lack of dedication to the commandments, or even lack of attention to simple church classroom lessons. To me, if I missed one night of reading my scriptures, or if I was so tired, I forgot to say my prayers, it was a huge sin and I had to repent of it. Anything more serious than that was just not even a thought.

The church was everything, it was the only way to the celestial kingdom, and it was life itself.

Continue reading: School (early years part 3)