Dear friend,
Elias:
On June 6th, 1944, my grandfather, H. Smith Shumway and his fellow soldiers earnestly watched the approaching coastline of Omaha Beach, Normandy, France. A primal anxiety, too potent to risk unhinging with words, electrified the air between them. For now, all was calm: a serene, white sand beach; sea birds gliding over steady, rolling surf; and high cliffs framed in tender morning light. Tensed for battle, the soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder, but grappled with the impending peril alone, quietly, each steeling his mind—and then doing so again, and then again—in preparation for the ferocious tinderbox their arrival would ignite.
Then, as if all at once, the awaiting savagery of the moment arose and hurled itself roaring towards them. -72- The boat’s heavy door sliced the water and ground into the sand, delivering its cargo to the beast of war. Without hesitation, Smith and his friends sprung forward, exchanging coiled adrenaline for violence, and by so doing fulfilling promises made long ago.
My grandfather’s regiment, nicknamed the “Big Red One,” was the first to hit Omaha beach that fateful morning. Many fell, but their bravery set the tone for those that followed and inspired the ultimate liberation of Europe. I’ve pondered Smith’s motivations and those of his regiment to join the military and readily jump into tremendous danger. Interestingly, they shared a common motto as a regiment that offers an elegant distillation, perhaps, of all their individual stories and unique motivations. Their motto, as it has permeated my own heart, has become to me among the most sacred of refrains. It is, quite simply, “Duty First.”
This concept of honoring commitments—whether personal or shared—is a powerful and eternal principle of progression and strength.
Shouldering salvation’s weight as He knelt in Gethsemane, Jesus prayed the meekest of prayers, saying, “Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done” (Luke 22:42).
Reflecting later upon this pivotal moment, the Lord said, “Which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit—and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrink—Nevertheless, glory be to the Father, and I partook and finished my preparations unto the children of men” (D&C 19:18-19).
At the precipice of infinite suffering, our beloved Savior persevered and kept his premortal covenant to His Father and to us. Jesus Christ, the supreme and ultimate example of “duty first.”
I bear witness to the power of sacred covenants. They can guide and sustain us, motivating us forward especially in our most dire moments. In my own personal trials, I’m grateful for holy promises that reaffirm my divinity, clarify my eternal purposes, and connect me to the enabling and ennobling power of my Savior. I testify that God and Jesus Christ live and love us.
Brittany:
I love taking the sacrament with you each week. There is something so powerful about coming together to partake in the same practice our Savior instituted the night before he sacrificed everything for us. Don’t you love that on the first day of each week, we are invited to set aside all other tasks and concerns to come and commune with Him? Each of us in our different stages of life, pausing to put on nice clothes and come to a space dedicated to feeling his Spirit. Saints of all ages and backgrounds gather side by side with the intention of connecting with their Savior on a personal level. As we unify our voices in a song of praise, I love hearing the different voices and languages recounting Christ’s loving sacrifice.
Artists who set out to share a glimpse of the divine, can become (unhelpfully distracted and even) mired in the technique and process of their craft. With that in mind, I appreciate how simple the church has kept this sublime ordinance. There is no fancy choir; everyone is invited to sing in preparation. White shirts, plain bread, tap water. There is nothing about the process that gets us tied up in the craft of it. This powerful, sacred ceremony, performed in accordance with God’s law is a simple, no-frills gateway to feeling God’s love.
Christ knew our conversion would take more than the one-time event of baptism, so He provided us with a weekly opportunity to recommit ourselves through the ordinance of the sacrament. As the bread and water is blessed and sanctified, then passed from person to person and mother to child, it is a unifying act, and yet so personal. I love the symbolism of witnessing to God by “choosing to partake”. Bread and water, arguably the simplest forms of food and drink, representing our Savior’s body and blood, are offered to us and we have a choice to partake. I love feeling the bread and water as I place it in my mouth, and then as it moves down my throat and into my stomach. I envision my cells picking up the nutrients and distributing them throughout my body—distributing holy covenant power throughout my soul—until I am a (re)newed version of myself. A version that always remembers my Savior, that I may always have his Spirit to be with me.
I am so grateful for my Savior, Jesus Christ. I don’t understand how the power of the atonement works, but I have come to know that as we make covenants with our Heavenly Father, we are enabled with a power greater than ourselves, providing pronounced strength and understanding to handle the world around us. I can testify to the correlation between submitting our will in the Lord’s way and access to divine clarity. I’m grateful that each week I get a chance to sit alongside you and realign my heart with His.
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