{"chapter_no":"41","chapter_title":"The Road to Zion","book_id":"2","book_name":"The Story of James","subchapter_no":"0","page_no":"375","page_number":"1","verses_count":0,"total_pages":8,"page_content":"

 <\/p>

Chapter 41<\/p>

The Road to Zion<\/h1><\/p>

 <\/p>

After five years, James resumes his five-dollar lawn project in the ward—He puts his mind to
work on the things he can do to help people improve their lives<\/i>.<\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

 <\/p>

 <\/p>

Five years passed, and it was now the fall of 1987. James and Beth had recently
celebrated their fifth wedding anniversary. The finances of the family had improved, prompting
them to make an offer on a house in the ward that had just become available. Their offer was
accepted and within days they were busily moving their belongings over to the new place. There
was no piano to move in this case. James wasn’t particularly fond of pianos and, therefore, the
decision was made right after they were married not to own one. Beth used the piano at church
whenever she wanted to play.<\/p>

 <\/p>

The new home had a large receiving room at the front door. It was here where they hung
up their large painting for the first time, and the painting freshly put on display was stunning!
Covering most of the space of one wall, it rivaled those seen at the Visitors' Center at Temple
Square. If anyone had any doubts at all about the family’s commitment to their goals, those
doubts were quickly erased when “the painting,” as it was sometimes called, went on display. It
transformed the home. <\/p>

 <\/p>

On the evening of Thursday, October 1, the move to the new house was completed.
Arising early the next morning, the Hancocks found their new surroundings exhilarating. The
atmosphere was quite different from their old apartment; it was quieter, more peaceful, and
blessed with a larger endowment of the Spirit. This, plus the presence of the painting, gave the
home an atmosphere like a temple.<\/p>

 <\/p>

Going about her chores that morning, Beth had a special glow about her. It was a special,
happy day for her. She talked very little as she worked, but she didn’t need to. The little song that
she hummed quietly to herself—like a kitten purring—told the story. She had been happy before
when they lived in their old apartment, and she was still happy now. Happiness didn’t come to
her by virtue of the new house; it had simply been transplanted, coming along with her during
the move. The new accommodations were spacious and beautiful, leaving them no doubt that
they had been blessed exceedingly by the Lord. <\/p>

 <\/p>

The new home also provided a comfortable setting for the family during the general
conference sessions, which they watched on TV over the next two days on the first weekend of
October.<\/p>

 <\/p>

The following Saturday, Beth had a visit planned with her parents in Millville. Leaving
early, she took the kids with her in the car. James got up just in time to see them off, then made
himself a breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast with raspberry jam. Beth had prepared a list of
small chores for him that she left on the table. He looked over the list somewhat lazily. Desire
failed him at this moment; a sense of duty was needed to get himself going. The chores were all
inside the house, so he attacked the list while still in his pajamas. Within an hour, all the tasks
were done. He then showered, shaved, and got himself dressed. <\/p>

 <\/p>

It was now 10:00, and he was ready to enjoy his day off. The rest of the day was all his.
Alone in the house, what was a young, married man like James to do on a day like this? <\/p>

 <\/p>

In another hour or so, an important college football game on TV would start. He could
watch that, and that seemed very much like Plan A. There were customer projects at work
planned for the coming week. He could get a little ahead and start reviewing tasks for them—that
was Plan C or D, almost at the bottom of his list. He might call up some friends and go
horseback riding or mountain biking. He could open up his priesthood leadership notebook and
check in with his counselors over the phone about quorum assignments that had been done in the
past week, in readiness for Sunday’s meeting with the bishop. He could go visit his family,
spending time with his father, mother, and younger siblings... something that Beth was doing that
morning on her side of the family. There was also still plenty of work to do downstairs in their
new house, unpacking and organizing leftover items that remained in boxes from the move. And
certainly, after working hard for the past week, he could also just sit back and relax the whole
day, not worrying about doing anything at all, and maybe cook himself a steak out on the new
patio barbecue and watch the ballgame. <\/p>

 <\/p>

In the last few years, and even in the last few months, his Saturday might have included
one or more of these kinds of activities. But his circumstances had now changed. The new house,
the grand painting on display, the improvement in the family’s financial situation, all of these
were signs to him of what was going on in the bigger picture. What he had wanted, and what
Beth had wanted, was now starting to come about. It had been quite some time since he had done
anything meaningful on his five-dollar lawn project in the ward, so was today a good day to
begin anew? <\/p>

 <\/p>

James’s conscience, the light of Christ, which was there to help him decide between right
and wrong, was very much open to any of these normal Saturday activities. He was caught up
with all of his known assignments in the Church and deserved to have some time to himself. On
the other hand, a voice deep inside him, half-nurtured by the Spirit of God and half-nurtured by
his own desires (the bellows and the blowing of air upon the fire previously mentioned), was
there to give him a nudge.<\/p>

 <\/p>

The reader, who is probably accustomed to James coming to important decisions in his
life under stress, during a tragedy or trial of his faith, and amidst events that humbled him, stirred
him up to repentance, and helped him navigate a course to bring him closer to God, may
recognize these current circumstances of James as a break from that pattern. And that, in fact,
would be true. James, here, in a time of prosperity, had not forgotten the Lord his God. He was, <\/p>

therefore, poised to take advantage of the opportunity now––in a time of happiness when he was
at peace with himself and at ease in his life, and with the future seemingly very bright––to
embrace again his special life's work. <\/p>

 <\/p>

Before, tragedy and difficult trials had helped lead him to do good. Now, it was
prosperity leading him to do good. It can work both ways. Whether we are experiencing
prosperity or affliction in our lives, it really shouldn’t matter; our reaction should always be the
same––righteousness. Job gave the world a wonderful example of this principle, which we
should always remember. <\/p>

 <\/p>

So here it was. On a beautiful autumn morning of 1987, having reached the age of
twenty-six, James was ready to continue his special life work in the gospel.<\/p>

 <\/p>

Moments before, a call to arms had come down from heaven, whispering these words to
him as he sat in the kitchen, “Now behold, a marvelous work is about to go forth among the
children of men. Therefore, let a catalyst be called in this ward, a catalyst of Zion. Who is
willing? Whom shall I send?” <\/p>

 <\/p>

James whispered back, “Here I am, send me.”<\/p>

 <\/p>

His calling was to journey forth into the unknown, to follow a pathway in life few had
previously traveled. The road to Zion stood before him, an iron rod running along its side. <\/p>

 <\/p>

His calling, like at the basketball camp, was to stand up from among his peers on the
bench and report to the scorer’s table, to enter the game, to take charge, to wield his sword and
contend with those who would scatter the King’s sheep.<\/p>

 <\/p>

His calling was to help members in his ward cut, trim, and beautify the lawns of their
homes to make them of the five-dollar lawn variety; to lift them up to a higher plane and help
them discover a vision of Zion of their own to see beyond the trials of life; and, with increased
faith in Jesus Christ, to help them draw blessings from the future that they could enjoy in the
present.<\/p>

 <\/p>

His calling was to follow after the example of a young Jesus—that which is even possible
for a mere mortal to do—to go about the work of his Father in Heaven. <\/p>

 <\/p>

Sitting down at the kitchen table, James put his mind to work.<\/p>

 <\/p>

How shall I begin? What can I do today? <\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

Nine years older and wiser than when the opportunity had first presented itself, James
nonetheless still had many insecurities and doubts in his mind to contend with. The ideal in the
gospel is something very new to us; any attempt to move towards it requires great faith and
courage. <\/p>

For Jean Valjean, the beginning of his journey on the road to Arras was very much like
this:<\/p>

 <\/p>

Whither was he going? He could not have told. Why was he hastening? He did not know.
He was driving at random, straight ahead. Whither? To Arras, no doubt; but he might have been
going elsewhere as well. At times he was conscious of it, and he shuddered. He plunged into the
night as into a gulf. Something urged him forward; something drew him on. No one could have
told what was taking place within him; every one will understand it. <\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

What man is there who has not entered, at least once in his life, into that obscure cavern
of the unknown? However, he had resolved on nothing, decided nothing, formed no plan, done
nothing. None of the actions of his conscience had been decisive. He was, more than <\/i>ever, as<\/i> he
had been at the first moment.<\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

Resting his head upon his arms, and with a somewhat blank expression, James looked out
the front window––like he was on the sidelines again gazing out at the dance floor of the Weber
Institute. The rest of the world was busily engaged on this Saturday morning whereas James sat
on his chair alone, pondering upon things that were far beyond his understanding. He was still
serving in the calling of punchbowl monitor in a sense, but this time, beside him on the banquet
table were the makings of a great feast of Zion for the inhabitants of his ward. <\/p>

 <\/p>

As the elders quorum president over the last four years, James had done all he had been
asked to do (and more), handling his leadership responsibilities quite well. He and Beth had also
made known their desire to live in James’s home ward for the long term. This was confirmed
first by their decision to rent an apartment in the ward, and then again years later when they
purchased a home a few blocks away. The bishop had kept him in his current position during that
time, seeing no reason to rotate him out into a new calling. <\/p>

 <\/p>

James did have some elders quorum business items to take care of from the past week’s
meeting. That seemed like the obvious place for him to start on his first “Zion Saturday.” Over
on the counter next to his scriptures, he saw his binder with notes and papers from the meeting.
He moved to stand up and bring them over to the kitchen table to review. Before leaving his
chair, however, he stopped. He saw an older man walking by outside the window, somebody he
knew. The man, Harold Simmons, was an old friend of his dad, and someone he had met a few
times. Harold was a friendly and very generous person, something that was particularly
noticeable to all in the Christmas season. He was well-liked by everyone and very popular in the
neighborhood. On the other hand, neither Harold nor his wife Lora had attended church in
decades. His dad had often lamented that the situation with Harold as one of his biggest
disappointments while serving as the bishop, his not being able to get good people like the
Simmons active in the Church.<\/p>

 <\/p>

James continued his father’s lamentation.<\/p>

 <\/p>

What can I do on a day like this to reach out to Harold and Nancy? They are such good
people...<\/i> <\/i>actually, great people!<\/i><\/p>

He needed to do something this morning to help them somehow. <\/p>

 <\/p>

They could do marvelous things in <\/i>the Church<\/i> if they were active.<\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

Firmly seated in his chair again, he thought of others in the ward. He thought of the new
house––his prosperous circumstances––and humbly compared his life situation to those in the
neighborhood who were less affluent. He had always been taught to share. Prosperity was
something that needed to be shared with others. <\/p>

 <\/p>

There were many people whom James knew, those in the ward particularly, who hadn’t
been so fortunate recently. Some were sick with serious diseases; some had handicaps to deal
with; some were sad and lonely, living by themselves with few family or friends to visit them;
some were overwhelmed with financial problems; some lived in fear of crime in their
neighborhoods; some were depressed and wondered whether life was worth living. And that was
just the suffering of those he knew about; much of the suffering in the ward was hidden from
him—hidden among the active members he saw regularly every Sunday, hidden among the
members of the ward who were not active in the Church, and hidden among those who were not
members of the Church at all. These latter two groups of people suffered through many of the
same trials in life as those who were active Latter-day Saint members, but they often did so
without the comforting knowledge of the restored gospel. Thus, their suffering was significantly
greater, for they lacked the light, the hope, the peace, the added blessings, and the guidance of
the Holy Ghost to help them make it through life's challenges every day. <\/p>

 <\/p>

Quite familiar with the families in the quorum under his care, and the difficult trials they
had to deal with every day, James was suddenly overcome with grief. The Spirit had just arrived
and, sensing the opportunity, had elevated feelings of sorrow within him.<\/p>

 <\/p>

How can I be happy on a day like this when<\/i> <\/i>others<\/i> <\/i>suffer? <\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

An excellent question to ask oneself. <\/p>

 <\/p>

He and Beth had reached a certain level of happiness, but he could see that it was an
empty, self-oriented happiness in some ways. As a priesthood leader, he had served others as
best he could, but it was a service provided mostly from a distance. After counseling or assisting
a person in need for an hour or so, he could then leave and go home to his comfortable life again,
largely shielded from the pain they suffered through every day. He was a mere witness of events
only, standing idly by while so many suffered around him.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

There had to be a bigger role for him to play... that was his thinking. He needed to find a
way to bless the lives of all the ward members in things spiritual as well as things temporal. He
could not live through their trials for them or prevent them from bringing trials upon themselves
by their own choices, but he could lift them and help them to find solutions to their problems,
thereby bringing them greater happiness. Through faith in Jesus Christ and through
righteousness, he could control the powers of heaven and have a large impact upon their lives.
Taking upon himself the role of punchbowl monitor for the ward, he could help serve up a
magnificent table of food and drink<\/span> for all to enjoy.<\/p>

 <\/p>

There are parallels between the deep reflection here of James on the plight of others and
those of M. Madeleine when he discovered that an innocent man had been taken into custody by
the investigation of Javert. Only he could save this man from a lifetime of imprisonment,
something that in his situation required that he denounce himself, confessing before the world
that he was, in actuality, the escaped convict Jean Valjean and not this Champmathieu, a pruner
of trees, who had been captured by the authorities in his place. His inner struggle reads as
follows:<\/p>

 <\/p>

We have already gazed into the depths of this conscience; the moment has now come
when we must take another look into it. We do so not without emotion and trepidation. There is
nothing more terrible in existence<\/i> <\/i>than this sort of contemplation. The eye of the spirit can
nowhere find more dazzling brilliance and more shadow than in man; it can fix itself on no other
thing which is more formidable, more complicated, more mysterious, and more infinite. There is
a spectacle more grand than the sea; it is heaven: there is a spectacle more grand than heaven;
it is the inmost recesses of the soul.<\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

To make the poem of the human conscience, were it only with reference to a single man,
were it only in connection with the basest of men, would be to blend all epics into one superior
and definitive epic. Conscience is the chaos of chimeras, of lusts, and of temptations; the furnace
of dreams; the lair of ideas of which we are ashamed; it is the pandemonium of sophisms; it is
the battlefield of the passions. Penetrate, at certain hours, past the livid face of a human being
who is engaged in reflection, and look behind, gaze into that soul, gaze into that obscurity.
There, beneath that external silence, battles of giants, like those recorded in Homer, are in
progress; skirmishes of dragons and hydras and swarms of phantoms, as in Milton; visionary
circles, as in Dante. What a solemn thing is this infinity which every man bears within him, and
which he measures with despair against the caprices of his brain and the actions of his life! <\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

It is certain that people do talk to themselves; there is no living being who has not done
it. It may even be said that the word is never a more magnificent mystery than when it goes from
thought to conscience within a man, and when it returns from conscience to thought; it is in this
sense only that the words so often employed in this chapter, he said, he exclaimed, must be
understood; one speaks to one's self, talks to one's self, exclaims to one's self without breaking
the external silence; there is a great tumult; everything about us talks except the mouth. The
realities of the soul are none the less realities because they are not visible and palpable. <\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

So he asked himself where he stood. He interrogated himself upon that \"settled resolve.\"
He confessed to himself that all that he had just arranged in his mind was monstrous, that \"to let
things take their course, to let the good God do as he liked,\" was simply horrible; to allow this
error of fate and of men to be carried out, not to hinder it, to lend himself to it through his
silence, to do nothing, in short, was to do everything! that this was hypocritical baseness in the
last degree! that it was a base, cowardly, sneaking, abject, hideous crime!<\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

... <\/p>

 <\/p>

O<\/i>n<\/i> returning to his room, he communed with himself. <\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

He examined the situation, and found it unprecedented; so unprecedented that in the
midst of his revery he rose from his chair, moved by some inexplicable impulse of anxiety, and
bolted his door. <\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

He feared lest something more should enter. He was barricading himself against
possibilities. <\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

A moment later he extinguished his light; it embarrassed him. <\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

It seemed to him as though he might be seen. <\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

By whom? <\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

Alas! That on which he desired to close the door had already entered; that which he
desired to blind was staring him in the face,—his conscience. <\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

His conscience; that is to say, God.<\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

James's soul was being acted upon by heavenly sorrow. Worry filled his mind as he,
being only one person, felt helpless to reduce the suffering of others. Pondering these things, the
Spirit stepped forward again, reminding him of the impressive design of the Church of Jesus
Christ of Latter-day Saints... his church... everyone’s church—it had everything people needed in
both small and large amounts. The Spirit instilled joy back into his heart, helping him to
overcome the sorrow of the world. A smile returned to his face. There was a way forward after
all!<\/p>

 <\/p>

We should also note that in recent weeks, James had already discussed the matter at
length with Beth, and she had said to him, “<\/i>One way you could get started in this work again is
to do things on a small scale, spending a little extra time every week performing acts of service
in the ward, something that in terms of your schedule is probably best done on Saturdays. There
are plenty of things the two of us can do together in the ward as well. Saturdays, too, are best for
me right now.”<\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

To this, James responded, “Yes, honey, that sounds about right. It starts with the basics,
everyone learning to do the basics of the gospel better, and certainly continuing to do those
things every day that we are doing already. <\/p>

 <\/p>

“Our financial situation is better now, so we should have a little more of our time and
energy to offer. There are obvious things not being done in the ward that we can focus on first,
things we have never been able to master very well in the Church. That’s pretty much what I was
told years ago by Bishop Tyler, and his advice is still good for us today.”<\/p>

 <\/p>

These early ideas and suggestions, including those of his own, were very good. They
were practical things he could do towards his goal, very much like the ones suggested to him by
members of his family years before during that important family home evening, the time when <\/p>

he first shared his vision of what North Ogden might become someday. Those earlier
conversations reentered his mind now.<\/p>

 <\/p>

When he bore his testimony at that time, and talked about the possibility of moving closer
to the ideal in the Church, he had been filled by the Spirit of the Lord. And that’s what he needed
now—the Spirit. How might he regain the powerful spirit he had enjoyed on that evening? That’s
what he needed to get himself going, so he could act decisively and full of faith. <\/p>

 <\/p>

He recalled the words he had spoken on that occasion. But to put all of those idealistic
words into practice seemed overwhelming, to say the least. Those were good words in concept,
but what about the practical application of such words years later as one is seated at the kitchen
table on a Saturday morning ready to actually go do something? To convert this broad vision of
his, and the strong feelings to do good he possessed, into a series of specific action items would
be the challenge for him on this Saturday and for the many Saturdays to come in the months
ahead. The process, he would find, would turn out to be somewhat slow in developing, with him
learning a little here and little there, line upon line and precept upon precept.<\/p>

 <\/p>

The time for the football game—Plan A—was nearly at hand. The pondering of all these
lofty principles had gotten him nowhere so far. Thus, his mind returned to the original question–
–What shall I do today?<\/i><\/p>

 <\/p>

James was stuck. He could not find an answer. He returned his elders quorum binder
back to the counter and moved over to the TV to turn on the football game. At lunch, he cooked
a steak on the barbecue of his new patio and enjoyed that while watching the second half of the
game. There was time to watch ball games and enjoy life––there is no problem in that. And the
reality was, a stupor of thought like this needed time to resolve itself. <\/p>"}