{"chapter_no":"37","chapter_title":"The Chapel Doors","book_id":"3","book_name":"Springville","subchapter_no":"0","page_no":"560","page_number":"1","verses_count":0,"total_pages":5,"page_content":"

 <\/p>

Chapter 37<\/p>

The Chapel Doors<\/h1><\/p>

 <\/p>

Martha Bradley goes on a morning walk to a<\/i> <\/i>Latter-day Saint <\/i>meetinghouse <\/i>in her<\/i> <\/i>
neighborhood—Her husband Clark has a long and <\/i>glorious<\/i> ca<\/i>reer in the US Air Force—Entering<\/i> the
first time<\/i> through<\/i> the heavy glass doors of a<\/i> <\/i>meetinghouse<\/i> <\/i>requires great <\/i>strength—Martha is invited into
the Sunday School lesson already in progress.<\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

 <\/p>

 <\/p>

At approximately the same moment that the opening prayer was being given to start
Sunday School class, an older, well-dressed woman approached the front entrance of the
building. She had been out for a walk on this Sunday morning, making her way to a local Latter-
day Saint church in the neighborhood. Her facial expression was focused and purposeful,
showing the confidence of a leader. <\/p>

 <\/p>

Arriving within a few yards of the front doors, however, she abruptly stopped. The
church building was strange and unfamiliar to her, and it gave her pause. For most people,
encountering a new church or religion for the first time, particularly at its peak of activity on a
Sunday morning, would seem to merit a cautious approach. Martha Bradley, the woman of
whom we speak, experienced similar inhibitions. Although a resident of Utah for several years,
she had never before set foot inside a Latter-day Saint church building, including this one located
only a few blocks from her home. Always direct (and some might say brusque) in her approach
to people, her timidity here was therefore unusual. <\/p>

 <\/p>

Martha, age sixty-seven, was an accomplished woman. She was, by nature, a leader.
Looked upon with admiration by most women, she was feared and avoided by others. She
thought and acted—a mirror image in some respects—like her husband Clark, a retired colonel
of the US Air Force.<\/p>

 <\/p>

She had deployed overseas numerous times with her husband, and thus, was very familiar
with the hardships and suffering of war—the anxiety, the ever-increasing faith in God that comes
before a battle, and the casualties and emotional trauma that come afterwards. She understood
well the worries and fears of every brave soldier. <\/p>

 <\/p>

There were few things in life that could shake the spirit of this woman, and this would be
true of her as she arrived at this church on a Sunday morning. Taking a few moments to survey
the building and the grounds, she prepared to move forward towards the front doors. <\/p>

 <\/p>

Martha, it should be known, was actually seeing to her own work on this morning. Her
visit to the Church meetinghouse was just one of many errands she had planned. Earlier in the <\/p>

week, she had watched a local TV news story about one of the humanitarian programs of the
Church, and how efficient and organized it was in delivering relief supplies to those in need
around the world. Seeing this, Martha had decided upon an amount of thirty-five hundred dollars
that she would give to help the poor people of Africa. The Church could be useful to her in that
role and, therefore, was well worth a visit today. <\/p>

 <\/p>

The Bradleys were the essence of a military family. Clark had served twenty-five years in
the Air Force—most of that time as a fighter pilot—and had reached the rank of colonel. The
couple had been assigned to Hill Air Force Base for four years during the 1970s and had become
well acclimated to the area during that period. They had talked often about an eventual return to
Utah. <\/p>

 <\/p>

In the spring of 1995, Clark retired from active duty. With good savings and a new
consulting job in Provo, the couple chose to establish residence in Springville, building for
themselves a dream home that had a wonderful view of the valley. With the many years of a
challenging but rewarding career in the Air Force behind them, the couple was glad to finally put
down roots and enjoy a more normal kind of life.<\/p>

 <\/p>

It was clear to everyone who knew them that Clark and Martha were very happy and
fulfilled in their lives, something that had come about through years of service to others.
Stationed abroad for the better part of their married lives, during periods of war and peace, Clark
and Martha had a strong and abiding love for their country as well as for each other. They shared
their life experiences with all who had occasion to stop by and visit with them in their home.
They had wonderful stories to tell––in particular, the exciting events and honors associated with
Clark’s military career.<\/p>

 <\/p>

In terms of religion, Clark and Martha believed in the existence of God and in the
traditional Judeo-Christian values that America was built upon. It would have been near
impossible to pass through as many difficult trials as they had without having a strong faith in a
power greater than themselves. They had seen many honorable men and women die defending
the life and liberty of their fellow countrymen. <\/p>

 <\/p>

Furthermore, it had been their opinion for quite some time that these brave men and
women deserved much more in the eternal scheme of things than just a nice military funeral after
their body was flown home. Surely, a heavenly reward was merited in line with the greatness of
their sacrifice?<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

The justice meted out by the world—rewards and punishments both—has been and will
always be woefully insufficient to provide fairness and equal opportunity to the billions of souls
who come to earth. Some die as infants or right before birth; some die in wars; some are born
with disabilities, are wounded in battle, are victims of serious crimes, or are hurt in accidents;
some live life without one or both parents; and some suffer through severe emotional or physical
pains for part or most of their lives. Many live in fear; many live in immense poverty; many live
under authoritative regimes without the basic freedoms we often take for granted; many are
taught incorrect principles from the time they are born, never learning right from wrong; many
are imprisoned and/or tortured, having committed no crimes... and the list goes on. To this, we <\/p>

can also add the many animals and other small creatures that have been the victims of cruelty at
the hands of man. Thus, to deny the existence of a just God is to deny justice in the end to all
men, women, children, and animals who have ever walked this earth. Surely, all men must be
held accountable for their acts in this life! True justice can only be meted out properly after the
grave and not before. <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

For this reason and others, the arguments of atheists and agnostics, as well as many
scientists and educators, against the existence of God, must be discarded as not being rational;
for atheists, scientists, and educators suffer all of these things as well and stand in need of eternal
justice—that which is outside the reach of man’s law—like we all do. To say this point clearly to
believer and unbeliever alike: faith in God is the only hope for the future of mankind<\/span>. <\/p>

 <\/p>

The Savior said, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his
friends.” This was the caption upon a large painting of one of Clark’s fallen comrades from the
Vietnam War. This impressive painting hung prominently alongside several others in the large
front room of their Springville home. <\/p>

 <\/p>

The Bradleys had never associated themselves with a formal religion thus far, but they
were clearly devout Christians. They attended nondenominational services when possible, held
daily prayers, and frequently read the Bible together as a family. Consequently, they were not
looking for someone to correct them in their beliefs. They enjoyed talking about religion and
matters of faith inside the family, but they preferred to avoid confrontations with others on such
things. Military history, freedom, and patriotism were their preferred topics of discussion when
friends, visitors, and honored guests came by. <\/p>

 <\/p>

Latter-day Saint missionaries had stopped by their house on several occasions, and every
once in a while, the couple received visits from local priesthood leaders of the Church. The
Bradleys, however, were frequently disappointed in the aftermath of such visits, particularly
those of the young missionaries. These representatives of the Church came to teach rather than to
be taught, and therefore, they didn’t seem to have the time to listen to all of the wonderful things
the Bradleys had to share with them about their lives.<\/p>

 <\/p>

Martha once lamented to Clark after such a visit:<\/p>

 <\/p>

“Don’t these young men have time to hear stories about our wonderful country and the
great testimony of patriotism and sacrifice we have to share? They always seem to be in a hurry
to go somewhere and do something else. If they could just sit down with us one afternoon and
hear the heartwarming stories of those who have served with us over the years, or even the
stories of men serving in the armed forces today that we have met—young men roughly their
same age who risk their lives every day to protect us all.” <\/p>

 <\/p>

This was their impression of the young missionaries they had met thus far. The Bradleys
were looking to give rather than receive. They were overflowing with great testimonies of their
own to share.<\/p>

The Bradley home, with its panoramic view of the valley, was well known to the
residents of Springville. But this majestic home was not a rich man’s ornament out on display for
pride and vanity. It was a complementary edifice that could be bought, sold, lived in, and
occupied by anyone at any time; the Bradleys just happened to be its current occupants. The
home had the feel of a national landmark rich in heritage and tradition—a small Mount Vernon
made special for the citizens of Utah County. <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

It was a place to receive honored guests for dinner or luncheons. Disabled war veterans
from all over Utah and the western states regularly came there to visit. And for those visitors
who came by, what was most striking was how excitedly and energetically stories of valor were
told. Martha’s versions of stories sounded almost firsthand, like she had been there with Clark
during military campaigns. In many respects, this was true; in spirit, she had fought every battle
with him. Not surprisingly, Clark really loved his wife; they were soul mates in every sense of
the word. The Bradleys were a fabulous team<\/span>.<\/p>

 <\/p>

But this was not a day for telling stories of military campaigns. Only a few feet from the
entrance of the church, the morning sun cast a slight reflection upon the glass doors, requiring
that Martha use her hand as a visor to peer inside. But even at this short distance, she could make
out very little of what was inside. She moved closer. Lightly touching the glass with her hand,
her hope was to perhaps spot someone inside to whom she could motion to for assistance. The
atmosphere of the church was still foreign to her. She didn’t want to be rude and walk in
unescorted. <\/p>

 <\/p>

Glancing around once more at the parked cars and the sidewalk behind her, she now felt
agitated. This was not turning out to be an easy task as she had hoped. There was nobody
standing at the front door to greet her or take donations. She had heard in years past that a person
might need a special membership card to get in. But with no one present here at the entrance, it
did seem like this particular meetinghouse was open to the public, so she could probably just
enter without an escort. Nevertheless, she did check in her purse to make sure her driver’s license
was handy, and also the credit card she planned to use for payment. The last thing she wanted to
happen was to walk all this way after having left her credit card at home. Otherwise, the people
inside the church might not understand her purpose for being there, if she had not brought along
any money with her. <\/p>

 <\/p>

It was time to go inside. <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Firmly gripping the door handle, she found the outer church door difficult to open. Made
of heavy glass and fine steel, the door was her first real interaction with the Church. It seemed to
require all of her strength to enter in. An initial pull with both hands to open the door was
needed, or at least a firm pull with one. A strong man might enter the church easily, the door’s
strength matched equally by his own. And many enter through the heavy church doors
comfortably with the help of friends who arrive with them at the door. But for the rest, it isn't an
easy task to open the door all by themselves. On the other hand, if someone was there watching
and waiting on the inside––like Carolyn waiting for her friend Leanna––he or she could push the
door from the inside and reach forth with their hand to help a visitor enter more easily. The doors
of the church always open easier to visitors from the inside out.<\/p>

<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Nevertheless, the hard pull aside, Martha liked the feel of these doors. Structurally sound
and reassuring, she could tell the church building was solidly built, strong enough, seemingly, to
withstand a major storm or earthquake<\/span>. <\/p>

 <\/p>

Good to know this building is<\/i> nearby<\/i>, she thought. It<\/i>’s<\/i> well<\/i>-<\/i>constructed <\/i>and could be
useful <\/i>in<\/i> an emergency<\/i>.<\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

She chuckled to herself. <\/p>

 <\/p>

This church is built like the house of brick from the old children’s story! <\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

Trying a second time, Martha pulled harder. This time she was able to open the glass
door and move inside.<\/p>

 <\/p>

The main foyer was empty. <\/p>

 <\/p>

There were two hallways to choose from, going in opposite directions. She chose the one
to her left. Proceeding down the hallway, she saw an open door and heard a man speaking.
Peering inside the dimly lit room, she could discern perhaps forty persons or so, both men and
women, seated comfortably in five or six rows of padded chairs. In the front of the room was the
man who was talking. Next to him, she noticed something very interesting––a painting on
display upon an easel with small spotlights directed upon it. Martha herself was an art enthusiast.
She had several paintings of her own at home, so this gallery-like setting was instantly
fascinating to her. There were a couple of empty seats in the back row, and she was tempted to
sit down there for a few minutes to watch what was going on. Better judgment, however, dictated
that she leave before someone spotted her there uninvited. <\/p>

 <\/p>

At that moment, a woman seated close to the door smiled and motioned for her to come
over and take the seat next to her. That was all the invitation Martha needed. Moving over to sit
down, she whispered to the woman of her desire to make a donation to African relief charities,
and she made reference to the credit card she had in her purse. Whispering back quietly, the
woman introduced herself as Carolyn Williams, the wife of the day’s Sunday School teacher
standing in front. She quietly asked Martha if she might wait for the conclusion of the class and
then together they could look for a “finance clerk” to help with the donation. Nodding her head
in approval, Martha settled back into the padded chair, one seemingly custom-made for her. She
now felt much more at ease in this unfamiliar place. <\/p>

 <\/p>

Her morning walk was thus turning out to be a success. The donation errand would soon
be taken care of, and she had found a new friend here. <\/p>

 <\/p>

It<\/i>'s<\/i> good to know<\/i> <\/i>that <\/i>this church is here<\/i>, <\/i>she thought to herself. It’s very nice.<\/i><\/p>"}