THE MORMON POLICE RAID

For you gluttons of punishment, another epic from the Lewis household's police files. All true, people, all true.

We're LDS, (Mormon), and every summer we invite the young, single adults (18-30) in our area to come over and have a barbecue. We've got a pool and a hot tub out back, and with five acres the singles can spread out and play softball and relax. (Surprisingly, Tom finds inexplicable reasons to be away on these days when the stereo streams the outdoor speakers with clean tunes and crooners like David Archulletta at ear-splitting decibels, but I digress . . .)

We spiff the yard and house up for our guests, and on this day, after running to the grocery for some odds and ends, I shoved my car keys in my pocket, slung my purse over my shoulder, and moseyed into the backyard to set my goods on the picnic table. On the way I saw some litter the mower had chewed up and spit out, so I picked it up and shoved it into the pocket housing my keys as I made my way.

Minutes later cars filled with tanned, sunglass-ed, bathing suit-clad water-warriors began arriving, toting beach towels, coolers, and bags of food. I greeted the first round of singles, and then, knowing that these young adults could manage their own party, I retired to the house to man the kitchen.

A few minutes later a young man knocked on my door. "Sister Lewis? The police are here."

"What?" I asked.

"An officer wants to talk to you."

I hurried outside and found a tall dubious trooper eyeing the scene.

"Are you the owner?" he asked.

"I am. Is there a problem?" (Duh, Laurie?????????)

"You're alarm reported a break-in fifteen minutes ago."

I tried to see the scene through the officer's eyes--an alarm going off at a house where a party is about to commence. He surveyed the young guests and their coolers which I assumed he presumed were filled with alcohol. I reached in my pocket and pull out my paper-littered set of keys which contain an alarm fob. "I was picking up some trash and shoving it in my pocket. I must have hit the alarm button by mistake. I'm so sorry."

He was not amused. "Can I see some ID?"

I raced back inside to produce my purse and my license and then back out before the kids started getting frisked. When I arrived I noticed a marked change in the officer's demeanor. He was smiling, and chatting with the young people. No bikinis, no speedos on the men. One opened a cooler filled with nothing more nefarious than root beer. The grocery bags produced chips and veggies, and a Tupperware container revealed a few dozen homemade cookies. While the pulse of the music was loud the tunes were innocent and cheerful.

I handed him the ID and he gave it a cursory glance.

"These kids (they hate being called that but at my age anyone under 35 is in kid-range), are from my church."

His smile broadened. "I kinda figured that out after a while."

"I'm really sorry."

One of the young men offered him a soda. A girl offered him a cookie. He declined both but stood amidst the scene, studying the group of returned missionaries, future missionaries, and clean cut twenty-somethings. For a moment I sensed that he wished he could stay and soak up the sweet innocence permeating the group. It's likely a far cry from what he would encounter as the day progressed.

"Nice place," he said, and then, as if needing to add something policeman-like, he adds, "Just be aware of that button the next time you shove your keys in your pocket."

"I will. And thank you again. I'm really sorry for dragging you out here."

"No problem," he added with a tap of his hat. "Have a nice day."

As he left I felt sad for him leaving this moment of peace to return to the real world. The young people seemed to sense it too. I wondered in that moment if they realized how wonderfully peculiar they must have appeared to that officer. How blessed they were that this was their normal.

If pride is a sin, I was guilty of it that day, for them, and for the good trooper who paused to soak up that sweetness for a moment.

And yes, this will be a chapter someday, in some very special book.

CHRISTIAN COURAGE: The Price of Discipleship

We members of the Church of Jesus Christ of latter-day Saints have been taking it on the chin for some time now, with barely enough time to take a breath between blows. A question from a young member of the church voices what many in and out of the Church want to know. “Why doesn’t the Church defend itself more actively when accusations are made against it?” The following reply is taken from an address given by Elder Robert D. Hales Of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, October 2008.

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The Savior responded differently in every situation. When He was confronted by wicked King Herod, He remained silent. When He stood before Pilate, He bore a simple and powerful testimony of His divinity and purpose. Facing the moneychangers who were defiling the temple, He exercised His divine responsibility to preserve and protect that which was sacred. Lifted up upon a cross, He uttered the incomparable Christian response: “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34)

When we do not retaliate—when we turn the other cheek and resist feelings of anger—we too stand with the Savior. We show forth His love, which is the only power that can subdue the adversary and answer our accusers without accusing them in return. That is not weakness. That is Christian courage. . . This is not to suggest that we compromise our principles or dilute our beliefs. We cannot change the doctrines of the restored gospel, even if teaching and obeying them makes us unpopular in the eyes of the world.

As true disciples, our primary concern must be others’ welfare, not personal vindication. Questions and criticisms give us an opportunity to reach out to others and demonstrate that they matter to our Heavenly Father and to us. Our aim should be to help them understand the truth, not defend our egos or score points in a theological debate. Our heartfelt testimonies are the most powerful answer we can give our accusers. And such testimonies can only be born in love and meekness.

. . .We are always better staying on the higher ground of mutual respect and love. In doing so, we follow the example of the prophet Nehemiah, who built a wall around Jerusalem. Nehemiah’s enemies entreated him to meet them on the plain, where “they thought to do [him] mischief.” . . .Nehemiah wisely refused their offer with this message: “I am doing a great work, so that I cannot come down: why should the work cease, whilst I leave it, and come down to you?” Nehemiah 6:2–3. We too have a great work to do, which will not be accomplished if we allow ourselves to stop and argue and be distracted. Instead we should muster Christian courage and move on. . .In His Intercessory Prayer . . . the Savior warned of persecution, (but) He promised peace: “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you. . . . Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” (John 14:27)

. . .To my inquiring sister and all who seek to know how we should respond to our accusers, I reply, we love them. Whatever their race, creed, religion, or political persuasion, if we follow Christ and show forth His courage, we must love them. . . .He is “the way, the truth, and the life”
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In closing, allow me to add this quote by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, who is also a Member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles:

"Something is going to be asked of this dispensation that has never been asked before. We must be prepared to present the church of the Lamb to the Lamb. And when that happens, we must be looking and acting like His church."