My First General Conference
I had an unusual experience at my first-ever general conference — an experience which became one of the most important life-lessons I've ever had.
With apologies to Jane Austin, it is a truth universally acknowledged that a young man, in possession of pride, must be in want of a lesson in humility.
I joined the Church my senior year of high school at age 17. The day after graduation, I left my home in Sitka, Alaska to work as a professional bass player in the Lower 48. I had an agent in Santa Barbara, California who sent me to work in studios and clubs throughout the western United States. It was an amazing adventure; I loved almost everything about it.
Amarillo by Mornin'
The great philosopher, George Strait, once sang, "I believe there's someone who's looking after me, someone beside me night and day — to light the way."
As fate would have it, I was in Amarillo, Texas for my first-ever general conference.
Back then people drove to church buildings in their Sunday-best, sat in pews, and listened to general conference through the building's PA system. The broadcast was audio-only, so people had to figure out for themselves what to look at as they listened.
As a new convert, I was so excited to hear the voice of a prophet for the first time. President Spencer W. Kimball opened the conference by speaking on the topic "We Need a Listening Ear".
There were other speakers after President Kimball, of course, but to me they were just voices; I had no faces or background knowledge as context.
During one of the sessions they had technical problems in the building. With several wards jammed into the building, and little kids getting increasingly restless, I felt badly for the people trying to figure it out. Several minutes passed, and they seemed no closer to getting the sound going.
I doubted I could do anything they hadn't already tried, but since I did have some experience with PA systems in my work as a musician, I went up and asked if I could help. They were at their wits' end, so they saw no harm in me trying.
After a quick, silent prayer I quickly figured out how it probably worked. Sure enough the sound came on — so loudly, in fact, that it startled everyone.
After that, I was assigned to come early and get everything working before each session started, and to shut it down when each session ended.
Carried Away
For one of the sessions of my first-ever general conference, I found myself seated next to the young men president in our ward. I was out of high school and not in the young men program, nevertheless I really looked up to him. He was fun, spiritual, wise, and financially successful. The fact that he had three beautiful teenage daughters didn't hurt either! 😇
During this session of conference, an incredibly boring speaker had a turn at the microphone. The guy droned on and on and there seemed to be no point. There certainly was no humor.
I thought to myself, "Why don't some of these better speakers take some of these bad speakers to the side and give them tips — or better yet: lessons! In fact, maybe the Church should start a program to teach general authorities how to give a good talk."
In my hubris, I thought I just had a good idea so I turned to the young men president I was sitting next to to tell him about my idea. Just as I was about to speak, he lifted up his glasses and wiped tears from his eyes.
I froze — mouth open. Then I closed my mouth and turned to look straight ahead.
There I was: bored, judge-y, fault-finding, and so sure that I had the perfect solution to fix someone else.
And right next to me was a man I looked up to, who I knew was in tune with the Spirit, and he was moved to tears by the very same talk that I could see nothing good in.
I realized: I'm the problem.
And ironically, the prophet's opening talk that conference was titled, "We Need a Listening Ear".
But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned. (1 Corinthians 2:14)
We often think that God is not involved in our lives, but what if He is trying to be?
What if the problem is that we are so negative and crusted over in pride that we are completely missing out on what the Spirit could tell us if we would let him?
I Cross My Heart
Thus it was that during my first-ever general conference I promised myself to look for God in talks and lessons — or to at least look for good.
When Jesus told His disciples that one of them would betray Him, rather than concern themselves with the faults of others, each man focused on himself.
Every single one of His disciples asked Jesus, "Lord, is it I?" (Matthew 26:22).
I've found it is wise to ask yourself this question often, and to answer it as honestly as you possibly can.
For it is a truth universally acknowledged that a person, in possession of pride, must be in want of a lesson in humility.
And as the prophet, Alma, taught in 74 AD, it's better that we humble ourselves (Alma 32:15).
Thanks for listening.
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