Elder Maxwell Addresses

In the journey of discipleship we lose our old selves. The natural man and the natural woman are “put off,” and then we find ourselves having become more saintly. We see such saintliness all about us in the Church—quiet, good women and men, not particularly status-full, who are becoming saintly. This is what should be happening in the lives of members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

I am struck, brothers and sisters, by the apostolic request “Lord, increase our faith” (Luke 17:5). As I study that expression, I find it occurred after the Twelve had already seen Jesus heal Peter’s mother-in-law, a leper, a paralytic, a withered hand, and the centurion’s servant. They had observed Jesus cast out devils, raise from the dead a widow’s son and Jairus’s daughter, still the tempest, cast out a legion of devils, feed the five thousand miraculously, and be transfigured on the Mount. Yet they still asked, “Lord, increase our faith”! That request tells us something about the nature of faith.

Only reform and self-restraint, institutional and individual, can finally rescue society! Only a sufficient number of sin-resistant souls can change the marketplace. As Church members, we should be part of that sin-resistant counterculture. Instead, too many members are sliding down the slope, though perhaps at a slower pace.

Since we have been told clearly by Jesus what manner of men and women we ought to become—even as He is (see 3 Nephi 27:27)—how can we do so, except each of us employs repentance as the regular means of personal progression? Personal repentance is part of taking up the cross daily. (See Luke 9:23.) Without it, clearly there could be no “perfecting of the Saints” (Ephesians 4:12).

You cannot light a fire in another soul unless it is burning in your own soul. You teachers, the testimony that you bear, the spirit with which you teach and with which you lead, is one of the most important assets that you can have, as you help to strengthen those who need so much, wherein you have so much to give.

I wish to talk about your unfinished journey. It is the journey of journeys and will be described quite differently this Easter night. It is an arduous journey. The trek awaits—whether one is rich or poor, short or tall, thin or fat, black or white or brown, old or young, shy or bold, married or single, a prodigal or an ever faithful.

From the Maxwell Children: Elder Maxwell “was present in the upper room of the temple that early June day in 1978 when all the General Authorities gathered to receive the revelation and decision from President Spencer W. Kimball making it possible for all worthy male members to be ordained to the priesthood.” Elder Maxwell recounted, “I wept with joy that day. The handkerchief I wiped my tears with I took home and told my wife not to wash it.

With all of you, I express my admiration to these wonderful men who are being released and whose status is being adjusted. They were exemplary at the time of their calls; they are even more so today. They are portable sermons for us all. My sermon was essentially prepared in June. It is for myself as well as for the members of the Church.

This is a special time. I’m not sure it’s fair to you who are young beneficiaries of the work done two hundred years ago that you should be expected to appreciate all of it. I should like to try to weigh in on the scales for your consideration. Some of the reasons of that is in fact a very, very special blessing.

Meekness ranks so low on the mortal scale of things, yet so high on God’s: “For none is acceptable before God, save the meek andlowly in heart” (Moroni 7:44). The rigorous requirements of Christian discipleship cannot be met without the tutoring facilitated by meekness: “Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly” (Matthew 11:29). Jesus, the carpenter, “undoubtedly had experience making yokes” with Joseph, and thus the Savior gave us that marvelous metaphor (see Matthew 11:20).

The Book of Mormon provides resounding and great answers to what Amulek designated as “the great question”—namely, is there really a redeeming Christ? (Alma 34:5–6). The Book of Mormon with clarity and with evidence says, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Moreover, in its recurring theme, the book even declares that “all things which have been given of God from the beginning of the world, unto man, are the typifying of [Christ]” (2 Nephi 11:4).

I am aware that my wise and gentle friend Elder David B. Haight spoke about the Prophet Joseph a month ago. Please bear with me, therefore, as I seek to place the spotlight on the Seer in yet a different way on this Easter Sunday, during which our rejoicing is made more resplendent by the revelations and translations concerning Jesus that came to us through Joseph.

I thank each of you for your attendance here, for the lovely invocation and the splendid music we had, and for that introduction. I’m pleased to be with you today, my sisters. Your Tolkien theme, “deep roots are not reached by the frost,” might well have had added to it, “nor are they scorched by the sun.” Jesus described the realities of that scorching sun when he talked in these terms, “and some fell upon the stony places where they had not much Earth and forthwith they sprung up because they had no deepness of Earth. And when the sun was up, they were scorched. And because they had no root, they withered away” (Matthew 13:5–6).

My brothers and sisters, I publicly express my deep gratitude to the Lord, to our remarkable and beloved President Kimball, and to his counselors for my call to the Twelve—among whom I shall be the least, long after being the last so ordained.

I express deep love and appreciation to my wife, who is splendid in every way; to my goodly and gracious parents and sisters; to my children, who are committed to the kingdom and who have been wise enough to have married committed eternal partners.

It is a privilege to speak to this distinguished group. I commend you or the service you render; let others be sarcastic about the legal profession. I respect those in your profession who practice advocacy without animosity. I admire those lawyers who go beyond merely resolving conflict by judicial decision—who manage conflict by peacemaking.

I have chosen to speak today about a very pedestrian principle: patience. I hope that I do not empty the Marriott Center by that selection. Perhaps the topic was selfishly selected because of my clear and continuing need to develop further this very important attribute. But my interest in patience is not solely personal, for the necessity of having this intriguing attribute is cited several times in the scriptures, including once by King Benjamin who, when clustering the attributes of sainthood, named patience as a charter member of that cluster (Mosiah 3:19; see also Alma 7:23).

Often, when speaking to student leaders in higher education, I have used the analogy that—in a university—the faculty, staff, and administration are like the natives, and the students are like the tourists. In many ways, a recurring devotional speaker is more like one of the natives.

Elder Maxwell seldom spoke autobiographically because he did not like to draw attention to himself, but members of his family encouraged him to share some personal experiences and lessons he learned from them.

Elder Maxwell was in the Presidency of the First Quorum of the Seventy when he delivered this devotional address at Brigham Young University on October 26, 1976.