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I’m preparing this to post about eighteen hours before I’ll be presenting it which means I might make some changes still. I had a hard time writing this one and I really didn’t decide this talk was the talk until this morning. And even now I’m not sure if that’s because it’s the talk or because I’m out of time. But, as I mention below, maybe that doesn’t matter.
Part of the reason this talk was hard to write is because the topic was so similar to the one I gave in January (the one that’s forthcoming at Wayfare). I’ll admit I did cannibalize one bit which is something I do not like to do—even when the talks are given to different wards. But they were just too close together in time and topic….
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And God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and years:
And let them be for lights in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth: and it was so.
And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night: he made the stars also.
And God set them in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth, and to rule over the day and over the night, and to divide the light from the darkness: and God saw that it was good.
And the evening and the morning were the fourth day.
The fourth day was good, but there is some stuff about it we don’t really buy anymore. For instance, we no longer think there’s a firmament—a dome covering the earth—to which these lights are attached. It would have come as a great shock to the Artemis astronauts if they’d suddenly crashed into a firmament!
But the ancient Hebrews who passed down this story never thought it was supposed to be a science textbook. Reading Genesis “literally” wasn’t invented until we discovered evolution and geology and the concept of billions of years and were, frankly, kinda freaked out.
The Bible I chose for my study this year has a footnote every few dozen chapters that points out the ancients didn’t try to understand the world analytically like we do—the scientific method and all that—but analogically. When you sacrifice an animal, you separate its organs from it’s fat from its muscle and skin—three layers. When you enter the Tabernacle, you have the inner sanctum, the curtain, and the outer areas—three layers. While Moses enters the Lord’s presence on Mount Sinai, Aaron stays hallway up the mountain, and the people stay at the bottom—three layers. Three examples of three layers—each an analogue of the other. I bet you we can think of other things in three layers—the endowment, the afterlife, the land–the sea–the firmament. Anything we learn about any of these, Moses might tell us, will help us understand the others.
Anyway, back to Genesis and things we might be less sure of in 2026.
God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs—
For signs?!
But—but—but I make fun of horoscopes! The stars are in the sky to give us signs?
I mean—that is how the magi found baby Jesus so I guess I believe in the stars, but I haven’t the foggiest idea how to get information from God via the stars myself. If that’s a spiritual gift, it’s not one I’ve been given. And I’ll admit I’m pretty skeptical that the stars can provide daily updates. They seem pretty set in their positions, at least from the scale of one human lifetime. Unless Orion draws his sword, I’m not looking to the stars for information on what’s for dinner.
But I certainly do believe God guides us. So where do I see God’s guidance in my life?
Joseph Smith received a revelation that taught us that we “all have not every gift given unto…[us, but! Each and every one of us] is given a gift by the Spirit of God. And all these gifts come from God, for the benefit of the children of God.”
Two weeks ago, Elder Bednar told us that “All individuals who receive the gift of the Holy Ghost” get spiritual gifts which, get this, “are…essential to…coming unto the Savior, being blessed with His attributes, and ultimately becoming more like Him.”
Part of maturing as a spiritual person is figuring how to listen to the Spirit, figuring out what our own, individual spiritual gifts might be. Because we don’t all hear the Spirit in the same way. Consider this story of the resurrected Christ visiting Bountiful:
Following the great destruction and darkness, the people were gathered at the temple, discussing their miserable experiences, when they heard
a small voice [that] did pierce them…to the center, insomuch that there was no part of their frame that it did not cause to quake; yea, it did pierce them to the very soul, and did cause their hearts to burn.
I’ve always thought of that moment like this:
There was a small voice and they, each of them, every person at the temple that day, felt pierced and quaked and burned.
But that’s not quite what the Book of Mormon says.
That might be how it was.
But it might also be that when that voice spoke to them, some of them were pierced and some of them quaked and some of them felt their hearts burn.
It’s okay for us to experience the Spirit differently. If we pay attention, we’ll get better at recognizing what’s being given to us.
Thomas S. Monson told a heartbreaking story from his time as bishop. He was in the middle of a meeting. The stake president was speaking and, as bishop, wasn’t it part of his job to listen to the stake president? So when the Spirit told Bishop Monson to go and to go NOW, he waited until the stake president was finished speaking. Then he rushed to the hospital to enquire of a friend. But his friend had died—asking for Bishop Monson, his bishop, till the very end.
This is when Bishop Monson decided never to hesitate when a prompting arrived. The rest of his life, he strove to act as soon as a prompting arrived.
I think he told this story not so we could analyze it but so we could consider analogs in our own lives.
President Monson’s insight is probably the key insight I’ll share today: Act when prompted. Act. Then it will be easier to recognize the next prompting. And when you act on that one, you’ll be all the more prepared for the next. And so on and so on till that final day.
But how do we hear that first prompting?
Again, it’s probably different for all of us. But I’d like to share an experience of Richard G. Scott’s that he said taught him how to gain spiritual guidance.
I know he died only eleven years ago, but eleven years is long enough that, say, our elders probably don’t remember Elder Scott’s unique way of speaking in General Conference. He would prerecord his talks then play them in his ear, speaking alongside the recording he’d made. Because of this, he didn’t use the teleprompter. And because he didn’t use the teleprompter, he could look directly into the camera in a way no one else does. When Elder Scott spoke at General Conference it was like his eyes were locked onto yours and you dared not look away.
Anyway, this is his story. Pretend I’m Elder Scott and talking very slowly while staring directly into your eyes instead of flitting between my paper and the vague middle distance as I talk way too quickly.
Okay. Ready? He said:
One Sunday I attended the priesthood meeting of a Spanish branch in Mexico City. I vividly recall how a humble Mexican priesthood leader struggled to communicate the truths of the gospel…. I noted the intense desire he had to share those principles…. He recognized that they were of great worth to the brethren present. In his manner, there was an evidence of a pure love of the Savior and love of those he taught. His sincerity, purity of intent, and love permitted a spiritual strength to envelop the room. I was deeply touched. Then I began to receive personal impressions as an extension of the principles taught by that humble instructor. They were personal and related to my assignments in the area. They came in answer to my prolonged, prayerful efforts to learn. As each impression came, I carefully wrote it down…. I was given precious truths that I greatly needed in order to be a more effective servant of the Lord. The details of the communication are sacred and, like a patriarchal blessing, were for my individual benefit. I was given specific directions, instructions, and conditioned promises that have beneficially altered the course of my life.
I suspect Elder Scott, decades later, didn’t remember the specifics of what the man was teaching. When you think about it, I’m that important in your story today. The words I’m saying just don’t matter all that much. You will almost certainly forget each one of them.
But let Elder Scott tell a little more of his story:
Subsequently, I visited the Sunday School class in our ward, where a very well-educated teacher presented his lesson…. It seemed to me that the instructor had purposely chosen obscure references and unusual examples to illustrate the principles of the lesson. I had the distinct impression that this instructor was using the teaching opportunity to impress the class with his vast store of knowledge. At any rate, he certainly did not seem as intent on communicating principles as had the humble priesthood leader.
Let me just interject here that I feel very seen by Elder Scott in this anecdote, if not in a good way. But I’m happy to say the story has a happy ending:
Strong impressions began to flow to me again. I wrote them down. The message included specific counsel on how to become more effective as an instrument in the hands of the Lord. I received such an outpouring of impressions that were so personal that…I sought a more private location, where I continued to write the feelings that flooded into my mind and heart…. After each…impression was recorded, I pondered the feelings I had received to determine if I had accurately expressed them in writing. As a result, I made a few minor changes to what had been written. Then I studied their meaning and application in my own life.
I find this story remarkable. And a bit relieving. The fact that I wanted to be clever, starting this talk in the stars, might work out okay.
Elder Scott then went on to pray about his jottings and was sent a feeling of peace. He thanked God for what he had written and asked if there might be more—there was, so he wrote those feelings down as well. He asked again if there might be more—and again there was.
He ends the anecdote by describing the results of that terrible Sunday School class as
some of the most precious, specific, personal direction one could hope to obtain in this life. Had I not responded to the first impressions and recorded them, I would not have received the last, most precious guidance…. I believe that you can leave the most precious, personal direction of the Spirit unheard because you do not respond to, record, and apply the first promptings that come to you.
Elder Scott admits that, yes, absolutely, the Spirit can come in moments of desperation. And, yes, promptings may arrive when you’re not looking for them. But, he adds, the Lord will not force us to learn from these experiences. We have to decide to listen. We have to decide to act. We have to decide whether we’ll write it down and ask if there’s more.
Then, when that surprise guidance comes, we’ll be all the more ready for it.
But paying attention is not easy. In another talk, Elder Scott once compared the Spirit to a grape. Delicious, but its taste is soft and sweet. And in our online, AI, earbuds-in, zangwow, lookitme-lookitme-lookitmenow world, we are trying to taste that grape while simultaneously sucking on a jalapeno.
Not easy.
But: the Spirit’s a grape? That’s a useful analog.
What does your grape taste like?
When and where and how do you gather grapes?
And what are your jalapenos?
Here’s my favorite Moraga story:
St. Mary’s College.
October 17, 1989.
The campus chapel.
The middle of mass.
The priest is giving a homily about the beheading of John the Baptist when the Loma Prieta quake begins to shake the chapel.
The head of the John the Baptist statue is knocked off its body and rolls across the sanctuary and down the altar steps.
There’s no reason to analyze that story. It’s just a funny thing that happened.
But it did happen, right here in Moraga. And maybe, for you, there’s an analog in it somewhere.
Or maybe not.
But the only way to know if the Spirit is talking—whether through the stars or in a piercing small voice or a silly story or a humble teacher—is to learn the taste of grape.
Accept those promptings when they arrive—because they will arrive—and then act on them. And then remember. And then, maybe write it down? And then: be prepared to act—again and again and again and again.
If you’ve been baptized, you have the gift of the Holy Ghost. And that means you have spiritual gifts. We all have different gifts, but they all come through the Holy Ghost and they all give us the opportunity to be prompted, to act, then to be prompted again as we “[come] unto the Savior, [are] blessed with His attributes, and…[become] more like Him.”
So: Let’s listen for grapes and touch stars and see voices. Whatever unique way God has chosen to communicate with you, that’s the gift of the Holy Ghost he covenanted to give you. And he certainly will. We just heard it in a prayer:
As we always remember him, we will always have his Spirit to be with us.
Listen.
Act.
Remember.
Repeat.
In the name of, etc.
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