Chris wanted to surprise his missionary friend by bearing testimony in a ward where the Elder was serving. This meant that he, Rachelle, Grandma, and I found ourselves attending an unknown ward on Sunday. We walked down the hallway of the church toward the chapel only to find that the chapel doors were secured by a heavy chain and menacing lock. It appeared at first that maybe this was a ward that was VERY unwelcoming to visitors, but we soon found that the meeting was being held in the gym. Apparently the building's chapel was being remodeled and they'd been meeting in the gym for several weeks.
Rachelle and Chris hid until the meeting was about to start and then slipped in at the back. Chris was first to bear his testimony. The effect was pretty striking as he related his conversion and his preparations to serve a mission himself and then revealed that one of their elders was the one who converted him. The elder than got up and bore his own testimony of member missionary work and the power and joy from the Lord that it brings into our lives. He was very humble, but well-spoken, and the whole effect of the 1-2 punch of their testimonies was powerful. I doubt that anyone was able to walk out of that "chapel" without feeling a renewed desire borne of the Spirit to do more missionary work.
I myself was strongly moved, but even as I reflected on the messages shared in that strange setting, my mind was continually recalled to the even more strange and powerful sacrament meeting I attended that very weekend the year before.
After loading up all our gear in the morning to be prepared for the trip home, all of us filed into the chapel wearing our work clothes for the day. It was very bizarre to see all these people in clean, but rough and grungy clothing assembling for meetings, but the Spirit of worship in the room was intense from the moment we assembled and listened to the short prelude music in absolute reverence. We opened with a Christmas hymn that resounded with gratitude and were blessed by one of the most sacred sacrament I can remember. While there was a strong personal connection to God I felt as I partook of the redeeming emblems, I was also powerfully in touch with the feeling of community intimacy that was present. We were truly one in attitude, desires, and purpose in our individual acts of worship. It was clear that we were all feeling the same sense of reverence, goodwill, gratitude, and love. The Spirit was almost overwhelming.
After the priesthood carefully and lovingly reassembled finished their work and were dismissed, the stake president of the stake whose chapel we were staying in spoke for a few minutes and expressed the great gratitude that he, the other local leaders, and the people of the area felt for our service. He read several scriptures about the blessings and joys of service that were all the more poignant in the midst of our consecrated efforts.
After he finished, Pres. Waite took a few minutes and his carefully measured comments amid frequent, momentary pauses belied the emotion he was trying to control. He spoke of Christ's birth and ministry and the eternal sacrifice that was wrought for each of us. He then said that our greatest opportunity to express our gratitude for that great gift is to serve our fellow men as the Savior would in in our stead. In doing so, we honor Him as we show we understand the price that was paid for His precious children. At the end, we closed with another heartfelt carol.
The whole service was only about 30 minutes, but it was the most powerful sacrament meeting I can ever remember attending. There was a simplicity and yet a depth to it that I think can only be experienced in special circumstances. The Spirit was all the more palpable because of our unity in purpose and feeling as a group. While only Pres. Waite spoke from among us, he was able to fully express the things that were in all of our hearts. It would have been the same if any member of the group had spoken instead. The only other time I have felt such a spirit of unity, joy, and gratitude was during some of our group meetings on the mission. I believe that feeling is as close as we may come to the Celestial Kingdom on this earth. But there is no reason that we can't feel that sense of Zion more often if everyone will only work for it.
We then left for our day's work. Our team was assigned to work on the main street in one of the business fronts. It ended up that the building we worked in was normally home to a community art center for children and youth. Immediately after the flood, this space had been used as a local distribution point for relief supplies, first aid, and reporting in Gerritsen Beach.
All that activity left the members of the organization little time to address the needs of their own building, so the water damage and mold had been creeping up in force by the time we got there. We ended up ripping about the bottom 5 ft of the drywall through the whole building and slicing up and removing all of the sodden carpet. It was difficult work as the carpeting was all still quite waterlogged and heavy to work with. Some of the wall material crumbled away easily, but the upper sections were moldy, yet stiff and difficult to pull away. Hauling the muck away left plenty of work for everyone. We then helped to clear out their basement space, where tons of crap had been trapped after it had been washed down there by the flood. There was all kinds of nasty trash that we pulled out. Apparently a lot of the lower spaces in the area had ended up like that. The heads of the charity, who lived above the space, tearfully thanked and embraced us all as we finished our work.
As we boarded the bus for our journey home, all of us regretted not being able to stay longer to help these people so desperately in need. I couldn't help thinking that though we were able to make a little progress for the people we helped, we were only do the far simpler work of demolition for these people. The work of rebuilding would be much more difficult, and I could only pray that they would get the help they'd need for it. My main reassurance was that I knew there would be many other faithful volunteers to follow us and lend their cheerful assistance.
We found out that there were 500 LDS volunteers in the Brooklyn area from all over the East Coast over the weekend we were there. We saw some of them as we traveled between assignments, and though we didn't know each other, it was delightful to feel a part of something greater and hugely significant for that area. All through the weekend, we had people coming out of their homes to greet us and thank us, recognizing our yellow vests. One man told us that the residents thought of us as "the yellow Mormon ants" crawling around everywhere, toiling efficiently and happily, removing the people's overwhelming burdens and shouldering them ourselves. It made me think of the One who shouldered all of our burdens alone in the Garden, and though none of us individually had power to do much, collectively, we were able to be His tools to continue that work on the earth. I'm so grateful I had the singular opportunity to be part of that.
Thanksgiving weekend has been eventful for the past two years, though certainly not as much this year. As I served the living in New York last year and the dead in the Idaho Falls Temple this year, I have been reminded that perhaps the greatest way I can show my gratitude to God for all He has done and given for me is to carry out His work through service to the best of my abilities. In participating in His work, to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man, we honor Him and show the depth of our love. I am so grateful that through that service, I also grow to understand my Father and my Savior better.
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