The Spirit Giveth Life

Recently I visited the Missionary Training Center at Provo, Utah, where missionaries who have been called to serve throughout the world are devotedly learning the fundamentals of the languages spoken by the people whom they shall teach and to whom they shall testify.

Vaguely familiar to me were the conversations in Spanish, French, German, and Swedish. Totally foreign to me, and perhaps to most of the missionaries, were the sounds of Japanese, Chinese, and Finnish. One marvels at the devotion and total concentration of these young men and women as they grapple with the unfamiliar and learn the difficult. …

There is one language … that is common to each missionary—the language of the Spirit. It is not learned from textbooks written by men of letters, nor is it acquired through reading and memorization. The language of the Spirit comes to him who seeks with all his heart to know God and keep His divine commandments. Proficiency in this language permits one to breach barriers, overcome obstacles, and touch the human heart.

In his second epistle to the Corinthians, Paul the Apostle urges that we turn from the narrow confinement of the letter of the law and seek the open vista of opportunity that the Spirit provides. I love and cherish his statement: “The letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life” (2 Cor. 3:6).

In a day of danger or a time of trial, such knowledge, such hope, such understanding bring comfort to the troubled mind and grieving heart. The entire message of the New Testament breathes a spirit of awakening to the human soul. Shadows of despair are dispelled by rays of hope, sorrow yields to joy, and the feeling of being lost in the crowd of life vanishes with the certain knowledge that our Heavenly Father is mindful of each of us.

The Savior provided assurance of this truth when He taught that not even a sparrow shall fall to the ground unnoticed by our Father. He then concluded the beautiful thought by saying,

“Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows.

“Whosoever therefore shall confess me before men, him will I confess also before my Father which is in heaven” (see Matt. 10:29–32).

We live in a complex world with daily challenges. There is a tendency to feel detached, even isolated, from the Giver of every good gift. We worry that we walk alone.

From the bed of pain, from the pillow wet with the tears of loneliness, we are lifted heavenward by that divine assurance and precious promise, “I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee” (Josh. 1:5).

Such comfort is priceless as we journey along the pathway of mortality, with its many forks and turnings. Rarely is the assurance communicated by a flashing sign or a loud voice. Rather, the language of the Spirit is gentle, quiet, uplifting to the heart and soothing to the soul.

At times, the answers to our questions and the responses to our daily prayers come to us through silent promptings of the Spirit. … We watch. We wait. We listen for that still, small voice. When it speaks, wise men and women obey.³

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missionaries teaching a family

Stan, a dear friend of mine, was stricken by cancer. He had been robust in health, athletic in build, and active in many pursuits. Now he was unable to walk or to stand. His wheelchair was his home. The finest of physicians had cared for him, and the prayers of family and friends had been offered in a spirit of hope and trust. Yet Stan continued to lie in the confinement of his bed at University Hospital.

Late one afternoon I was swimming at Deseret Gym, gazing at the ceiling while backstroking width after width. Silently, but ever so clearly, there came to my mind the thought, “Here you swim almost effortlessly, while your friend Stan is unable to move.” I felt the prompting, “Get to the hospital and give him a blessing.”

I ceased my swimming, dressed, and hurried to Stan’s room at the hospital. His bed was empty. A nurse said he was in his wheelchair at the swimming pool, preparing for therapy. I hurried to the area, and there was Stan, all alone, at the edge of the deeper portion of the pool. We greeted each other and returned to his room, where a priesthood blessing was provided.

Slowly but surely, strength and movement returned to Stan’s legs. First he could stand on faltering feet. Then he learned once again to walk, step by step. One would not know that Stan had lain so close to death and with no hope of recovery.

Subsequently Stan spoke in church meetings and told of the goodness of the Lord to him. To some he revealed the dark thoughts of depression that engulfed him that afternoon as he sat in his wheelchair at the edge of the pool, sentenced, it seemed, to a life of despair. He told how he pondered the alternative. It would be so easy to propel the hated wheelchair into the silent water of the deep pool. Life would then be over. But at that precise moment he saw me, his friend. That day Stan learned literally that we do not walk alone. I too learned a lesson that day: never, never, never postpone a prompting.

Later, as Stan’s youngest son was married for all eternity and the family had assembled in the sacred temple of the Lord, we paused and remembered the miracle we had witnessed. Words did not come easily from emotion-filled hearts, but a silent chorus of gratitude spoke the feelings that words were inadequate to express.

As we pursue the journeys of life, let us learn the language of the Spirit. May we always remember and respond to the Master’s gentle invitation, “Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him” (Rev. 3:20). This is the language of the Spirit. He spoke it. He taught it. He lived it. May each of us do likewise.⁴

Several years ago I received a letter from a longtime friend. He bore his testimony in that letter. I would like to share part of it with you tonight, since it illustrates the strength of the priesthood in one who learned what he should learn, who did what he should do, and who always tried to be what he should be. I shall read excerpts of that letter from my friend Theron W. Borup, who passed away three years ago at the age of 90:

“At the age of eight, when I was baptized and received the Holy Ghost, I was much impressed about being good and able to have the Holy Ghost to be a help throughout my life. I was told that the Holy Ghost associated only in good company and that when evil entered our lives, he would leave. Not knowing when I would need his promptings and guidance, I tried to so live that I would not lose this gift. On one occasion it saved my life.

“During World War II, I was an engineer-gunner in a B-24 bomber fighting in the South Pacific. … One day there was an announcement that the longest bombing flight ever made would be attempted to knock out an oil refinery. The promptings of the Spirit told me I would be assigned on this flight but that I would not lose my life. At the time I was the president of the LDS group.

“The combat was ferocious as we flew over Borneo. Our plane was hit by attacking planes and soon burst into flames, and the pilot told us to prepare to jump. I went out last. We were shot at by enemy pilots as we floated down. I had trouble inflating my life raft. Bobbing up and down in the water, I began to drown and passed out. I came to momentarily and cried, ‘God save me!’ … Again I tried inflating the life raft and this time was successful. With just enough air in it to keep me afloat, I rolled over on top of it, too exhausted to move.

“For three days we floated about in enemy territory with ships all about us and planes overhead. Why they couldn’t see a yellow group of rafts on blue water is a mystery,” he wrote. “A storm came up, and waves thirty feet high almost tore our rafts apart. Three days went by with no food or water. The others asked me if I prayed. I answered that I did pray and we would indeed be rescued. That evening we saw our submarine that was there to rescue us, but it passed by. The next morning it did [the same. We knew] this was the last day [it would] be in the area. Then came the promptings of the Holy Ghost. ‘You have the priesthood. Command the sub to pick you up.’ Silently I prayed, ‘In the name of Jesus Christ, and by the power of the priesthood, turn about and pick us up.’ In a few minutes, they were alongside of us. When on deck, the captain … said, ‘I don’t know how we ever found you, for we were not even looking for you.’ I knew.”⁵

When I served in the United States Navy, sonar was in its infant stages. … Sonar is the device that warns of an impending vehicle, ship, or other obstacle. Sound waves are monitored. The operator becomes accustomed to listening for a repetitive beep. When it follows other than the normal pattern, he knows danger is at hand and can warn the ship’s officers so that the course can be altered. …

If man can invent sonar to warn against disaster, … doesn’t it seem reasonable that the Lord would place a warning device within his precious children, to warn them when they are on a detour from his pathway? I bear you my testimony today that we have such a guiding light. It is foolproof, if we will but use it. I refer to the still, small voice, the Holy Ghost.⁶

When you were confirmed a member of the Church, you received the right to the companionship of the Holy Ghost. He can help you make good choices. When challenged or tempted, you do not need to feel alone. The Holy Ghost will help you know right from wrong. “For they that are wise … have taken the Holy Spirit for their guide.” (D&C 45:57.)⁷

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Christ knocking

Make every decision you contemplate pass this test: What does it do to me? What does it do for me? And let your code of conduct emphasize not, “What will others think?” but rather, “What will I think of myself?” Be influenced by that still, small voice. Remember that one with authority placed his hands on your head at the time of your confirmation and said, “Receive the Holy Ghost.” Open your hearts, even your very souls, to the sound of that special voice that testifies of truth. As the prophet Isaiah promised, “Thine ears shall hear a word … saying, This is the way, walk ye in it” [Isaiah 30:21].⁸

I hope … that we will listen to the whisperings of the Holy Spirit. I promise you that if we have an ear attuned to the Holy Spirit, if there is a desire for righteousness within our heart, and our conduct reflects that desire, we shall be guided by that Holy Spirit.⁹

We read in 1 Corinthians: “There are … so many kinds of voices in the world” [1 Corinthians 14:10]. We are surrounded by persuasive voices, beguiling voices, belittling voices, sophisticated voices, and confusing voices. I might add that these are loud voices. I admonish you to turn the volume down and to be influenced instead by that still, small voice which will guide you to safety.¹⁰

• What does it mean to learn “the language of the Spirit”? (section 1). What can we do to become proficient in this language? What have you learned from your own experiences about recognizing communications from the Holy Ghost?

• In section 2, President Monson told of learning that he should “never postpone a prompting.” How have you been blessed by someone who followed a prompting from the Holy Ghost? When have you been blessed by acting on a spiritual prompting that came to you?

• What can we learn from the story of Theron Borup in section 3?

• When has the still, small voice of the Holy Ghost been “a warning device” in your life? (section 4). What experiences have you had with the Holy Ghost guiding you? When have you been comforted by the Holy Ghost? What are some other ways the Holy Ghost has helped you?

1 Kings 19:11–12; John 14:26; 1 Nephi 4:6; 10:17–19; 17:45; 2 Nephi 32:1–5; Doctrine and Covenants 8:2–3; 11:12–14; 31:11

“As you strive to live the gospel worthily, the Holy Ghost will reveal God’s will to you. He will give you thoughts, impressions, and creative ideas about how to help others learn. … The Spirit is the real teacher, and when the Spirit is with you, you will teach with God’s power and help bring about the miracle of conversion” (Teaching in the Savior’s Way [2016], 5).