elder caleb greaves

Holding to the Iron Rod in Germany

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Buckle your seat belts, I’m feelin’ peppy

Hey guys! Sorry this is getting to you so late. We just ran out of Pday.

This week has been pretty…. Adventurous.

It was actually a very good week in terms of appointments. We met with a ton of people and saw a ton of cool things happen. Highlights include:

M: we taught him more of the Plan of Salvation using a ton of a scriptures.
D: She is often very stressed, and this was one of those times. We tried to help her relax a little by sharing some scriptures from the Book of Mormon.
H: a returning member. we shared Nephi’s Psalm with him. Another day, he called and asked if we had time for a move. So we went and helped one of his friends, and he set up an appointment with her husband, her, and us, so we got some referrals!
G: another returning member, who wants to pray but feels she can’t.
And several more.

But that wasn’t the adventurous part.

I’m gonna preface that by saying that everything is fine, and there is no danger.

Worried yet? 🙂

After we had helped move couches, refrigerators, and washers down 5 flights of stairs, we got changed and were walking home. We stopped your average college guy on the street, and he offered to walk with us, since he needed to go somewhere.

The way he said it, I was pretty sure he was about to get real angry.

When I told Elder Allen that later, he thought I was the biggest idiot for not just walking away, but I was pretty curious to see how it was going to turn out.

He asked if we were Christians. We said yes, of course, and he said he was also Christian – Lutheran, specifically. We asked if he was converted to that, or born, or what. He started talking about Lutherstadt and the 95 theses and nails on doors and you know, basically the start of the Lutheran church. Apparently his family have been members for 500 years. He said we were dirtying his faith. I won’t cover all of the material, but here are a few of the choicest highlights:
– he would wipe the smile off my face
– he would break my nose
– he would stab us with a knife (repeated often)

You’ll notice that some of these were directed at me specifically.

You guys might know that I don’t often lose my cool, and nothing hugely bothers me, except for one thing, and that is when someone gets all up in my grill and is irrationally angry at me. And you might also know that I don’t express anger by throwing things or getting violent or yelling, but by extreme sarcasm and withering looks.

Maybe not the smartest decision at such a moment, but that is basically what happened.

I will now tell the story from the point of view of extremely peace-loving, non confrontational, wide-eyed Elder Allen, who is still pretty new and can’t understand everything, especially when he’s stressed. And all he knew is he heard the word for knife being repeated over and over, and this German was approximately 6 inches from Elder Greaves (2 inches at one point.) but then he looks at Elder Greaves, who has this huge, goofy grin on his face (I’ve always wanted a death threat!) and keeps giggling at this guy as if it were all a big joke, which is really getting the German wound up ( I didn’t even know I was laughing – Elder Allen told me later). So he can’t tell if this is serious or just a joke, or if he maybe misjudged what is going on, but he is hugely stressed.

At one point (in response to the German saying:

“I’m a good Christian, so I won’t stab you, but if it was nighttime I would”)

Elder Greaves gives a massive thumbs up and says with extreme perkiness,

“What a GREAT Christian!”

Which was when the 6 inches of nose distance became 2 inches. It wasn’t nearly as romantic as it sounds. (I honestly briefly thought about just giving him a little peck and running like the dickens, but there’s really no decent way to communicate that to your companion in hand signals).

But yeah, I don’t think he liked that. Elder Allen said later he just about choked at that point.

Turns out, this isn’t the first time this has happened. He threatened other missionaries with the same stuff a few months ago, and so I recognized it was the same guy. Those missionaries had done y’know, the right thing, and just walked away from him, and it actually shut down the work here for a while actually.

So if one good thing came out of my childishness, it’ s that he actually lost self-confidence pretty quick, and by the end he was actually kinda nervous. That’s when he told us just to never talk to someone on the street again (or he’d stab us), to which we said

“Hey we’re gonna go talk to people. We gotta go.”

And turned away. He then shouted after us,

“There are no missionaries in the Bible!”

So I wouldn’t exactly classify him as a scriptorian. But don’t worry, the mission president knows, the ward knows, it’s all taken care of. I was just really pumped because I told Elder Casperson all the time that I really wanted to meet that guy, and I was so jealous, and why can’t I get a death threat? I can be annoying enough.

So all in all, it was an adventure, despite and because of my idiotic response to it.

But on to happier things. H brought D to church (basically everyone we teach is friends with everyone else). We taught Gospel Doctrine class, which turned out really well. We taught about being a light in the world, and how we can do that, and tried to just turn it into a big discussion. D said she felt absolutely amazing afterwards.

This week, L (a Ph.D student in German, and a German teacher) has been tutoring us in German, so that’s been fun. They started telling us their conversion story, which takes several hours because it’s so AWESOME! They are just amazing.

So this week, due to some medicinal changes, I found myself feeling strangely creative, which unfortunately for me doesn’t manifest itself through the medium of sculpture or oil painting or somber black-and-white photography, but rather the galant and winsome pun.

So I made a poem! Which I guess turned out to be about bullying, which is not really a subject I feel strongly about, but that is where the puns led, so I did what I could.

The big cheese
By Elder Greaves

Saunter, point, velveeta purrfunny-cheese-grater-cheesy
Made ’em feel bleu
Mighta havarti felt crumbly
Feta-p with it
“You Stink”
Ya shredded ’em
You think your so grated, so sharp
But you forgot
Gouda been your swisster
People, like puns
Are pretty cool
When they’re yours








This week, Elder Allen and I have been talking a lot about charity.

I Corinthians 13 is pretty clear:
1 Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.

2 And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.

Sometimes as a missionary, I definitely feel like sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. This often happens when I’m hustling down missionary boulevard, chasing the hows and the whats and the whens, and the whos and the whys are left in my dust a few turns behind.

I’m not here to catch trains, or ride buses, or schedule appointments, or even to be obedient – although all those things are very important.

I’m here to represent Jesus Christ, the very personification of love. (The real trick is to do both!)

So I set a goal to spiritually hug these people ’til their spiritual eyes bulge out.

I want to pray for everyone, because prayer brings miracles. I want to get on the same page with Heavenly Father, who – and I am convinced of this – doesn’t let anything happen to us unless it is for our good. I want to make sure that I only aspire to make people happy, in the very best way I know how. For some people, that’s a compliment. For some, it’s a smile. For others, it’s a listening ear. For everyone, it’s the Gospel.

I’m grateful for you guys, and I love you. You have an awesome week!

Elder Greaves

from Emeka July 2015 edited copy

Received from a convert in a previous  area. Elder Greaves sent it on with the title, “Oh sure, make me cry why don’t ya”.


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Hey everyone!

This week was decent. I don’t have a ton of time to write because we are now writing our mission president in German. But I just wanted to tell you that I love you guys.

This week was decent, but nothing spectacular happened. We’re still struggling to meet with those darn students.


Anyway, probably the high point of this week is when we met with M. He just shot an elk last week and was way pumped about it, so he invited us over to eat some with him.


German “Elk”

Yes, it was ridiculously tasty, and just after that, we finally broke through a barrier. We taught one whole entire lesson with M, and he understood everything! This is truly an achievement, and I think that he really is starting to get the hang of this whole “spiritual” thing. We taught the restoration; I think my favorite thing about teaching M is that he is always really engaged and thinking as hard as he can. That makes him sound dumb in a way.

No, M’s a stud.

He just literally no religious background, because he grew up in essentially a part of the USSR. But anyway, we gave him an analogy to explain the importance of priesthood authority. We asked him what he would say If an ice cream man pulled him over for speeding and gave him a ticket, how would he respond? Then how he’d respond if that was a policeman. He said,

“Yeah, but how could I tell if someone is a real policeman? What if they’re a fake?”

We said in real life, you could check papers or badge until more or something, but you would use your physical eyes. When we need to find out something spiritual, we need to use our spiritual eyes. He didn’t really understand that, so we compared it to love. Even if someone is trying to fake loving you, you can definitely pick up on that, but it has nothing to do with the senses. He liked that. It’ s kinda like a quote by Marion G. Romney:

“I always know when I am speaking under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost because I always learn something from what I’ve said.”

In these next couple of weeks, Elder Allen and I will be trying for the impossible – we are going to try and change a bunch of Germans’ minds. Our ward starts at 9:30, a pretty typical time here, but completely unnecessary. It makes it hard to get college students to church, and there has been a recent grumbling, and so we have seized the opportunity, and the ward will hold a debate during ward council in a couple of weeks. I’m really excited. I’m considering making a PowerPoint.

One last thing:

Nephi and his brothers were trying to obtain their peoples records from the wicked Laban, and they failed.

Right before that (scripturally) Nephi said his famous:

“I will go and do the things God told me to do, because I know he would’t tell me to do them unless he was going to make it possible.”

But then he failed.

Laban said no, and tried to kill them.

1 Nephi 3:14 “But Laman fled out of his presence, and told the things which Laban had done, unto us. And we began to be exceedingly sorrowful, and my brethren were about to return unto my father in the wilderness.”

That’s the difference between a man of God a man of men.

So then Nephi thought, “Aha, it won’t be easy. But I just have to think of a better way. I’ll show the Lord I choose him over riches,” and they gave up all of their family heirlooms for the plates. And Laban tried to kill them and stole all of the treasure. His brothers were ticked and beat him with a rod. An angel came, and we always look at this from Laman and a Lemuel’s perspective, but think about Nephi. He has got to be thinking, “Well why isn’t this working? I’m obedient, I pay my tithing, I go to church, I hold family home evening, I pray and read my scriptures, God told me to do this, I knew he would help us, but twice now we’ve tried and nothing has worked.”

And to top it all off, his brothers were being little dweebs and whining about it.

Jeffrey R. Holland wonders if Nephi might’ve said here “Please – hit me again! I can still hear you!”

But then an angel came, and Nephi’s testimony was strengthened, that yes, this was the right path. And he just walked to Laban’s house, probably saying something like “you stay here, I’ll come back with those plates, even if it takes all night,” and, as we know, he did.

He gives one reason as to why he had the strength to go on:

1 Nephi 4:2 “Therefore let us go up; let us be strong like unto Moses; for he truly spake unto the waters of the Red Sea and they divided hither and thither, and our fathers came through, out of captivity, on dry ground, and the armies of Pharaoh did follow and were drowned in the waters of the Red Sea.”

He remembered his scriptures. He tried to be like his scripture heroes. Little did he suspect at that time, that missionaries and members all across the world would one day say “let’s be like Nephi, strong and courageous and above all faithful.” He put obedience above comfort, dealt with trials of death from his family, wore himself out trying to help them remember God, and took his family across the ocean with his faith literally being the wind in their sails.

Have a great week!

Elder Greaves

I will go and do

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This last week was, in general, pretty lame.

There were some bright spots – we got to meet President Fingerle at a Zone Conference, and he is great.

But this week all of our investigators went out of town (or at least that’s what it felt like). We got some very bad news this week. Apparently, 3 members are going out of town, 2 of them for 6 weeks. (O and A, and M).This is a major problem, since they have referred all of their friends, and we have very little time to help them. If they aren’t here, those friends won’t get baptized for a long time. Frustrating, but maybe it’s just to push us to work even harder with them to get them ready to go before the members leave. In a ward of nine, those three were literally our only viable joint teaches in our city. We will have no one that speaks English. I’m honestly pretty worried about it, and I’m trying to figure out how we can not just completely shut down when they leave.

Well, I do enjoy a challenge.

This week was “Tag der offenen Tür”, [Open Door Day] so there were 14 people at church outside of the normal 9. Not all of them are investigators, but some of them have potential. That was a fun day. M and A came, which was great because I haven’t seen them in FOREVER. I can’t remember if I mentioned the Mongolian family before. Their daughter, 13-year-old Y, is ridiculously cool, and has a ton of potential. We got them to church, which is a miracle in itself, but hopefully we can slowly start to help Y really investigate.

Today we went to Berlin, and found this awesome thrift store with a ton of cool punk rock stuff. I bought an original 70’s shirt that is pretty crazy, but I’m just gonna make some ties out of it. I’ll send a picture.

"I would take a picture wearing this, if it were in any way appropriate."

“I would take a picture wearing this, if it were in any way appropriate.”

I honestly felt really inspired from the zone conference. Lately, I have felt frustrated with the lack of progress we have been seeing in the area. That’s really not true. We have been seeing progress, I’m just getting baptism itchy. There are just so many that are so close to making that step that I’m getting cranky.

But the point is, I’ve felt like I wasn’t reaching my full potential. I started trying my best to become good enough to have success. AND NOTHING HAPPENED. It was really ticking me off, and then during ZoCo, I remembered how I was earlier in my mission, when I was setting goals for my whole life. Not just to consecrate myself for the duration of my mission, but how to consecrate myself continually my whole life long. And I realized that I have recently lost sight of that. I was trying to be ‘good enough’ and not trying to be the ‘best I can be’. It reminded me of a talk I really liked when I was younger.

Vaughn J. Featherstone retold a story in Oct. 1973.

“No one in our Utah town knew where the Countess had come from; her carefully precise English indicated that she was not a native American. From the size of her house and staff we knew that she must be wealthy, but she never entertained and she made it clear that when she was at home she was completely inaccessible. Only when she stepped outdoors did she become at all a public figure–and then chiefly to the small fry of the town, who lived in awe of her.

The countess always carried a cane, not only for support, but as a means of chastising any youngster she thought needed disciplining. And at one time or another most of the kids in our neighborhood seemed to display that need. By running fast and staying alert, I had managed to keep out of her reach. But one day when I was about thirteen, as I was short-cutting through her hedge, she got close enough to rap my head with her stick.

‘Ouch!’ I yelled, jumping a couple of feet.

‘Young man, I want to talk to you,’ she said. I was expecting a lecture on the evils of trespassing, but as she looked at me, half smiling, she seemed to change her mind.

‘Don’t you live in that green house with the willow trees in the next block?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ …

‘Good. I’ve lost my gardener. Be at my house Thursday morning at seven, and don’t tell me you have something else to do; I’ve seen you slouching around on Thursdays.’

When the Countess gave an order, it was carried out. I didn’t dare not come on that next Thursday. I went over the whole lawn three times with a mower before she was satisfied, and then she had me down on all fours looking for weeds until my knees were as green as the grass. She finally called me up to the porch.

‘Well, young man, how much do you want for your day’s work?’

‘I don’t know. Fifty cents, maybe.’

‘Is that what you figure you’re worth?”

‘Yes’m. About that.’

‘Very well. Here’s the fifty cents you say you’re worth, and here’s the dollar and a half more that I’ve earned for you by pushing you. Now I’m going to tell you something about how you and I are going to work together. There are as many ways of mowing a lawn as there are people, and they may be worth anywhere from a penny to five dollars. Let’s say that a three-dollar job would be just what you have done today, except that you’d have to be something of a fool to spend that much time on a lawn. A five-dollar lawn is–well, it’s impossible, so we’ll forget about that. Now then, each week I’m going to pay you according to your own evaluation of your work.

I left with my two dollars, richer than I remembered being in my whole life, and determined that I would get four dollars out of her the next week. But I failed to reach even the three dollar mark. My will began to falter the second time around her yard.

‘Two dollars again,’ eh? That kind of job puts you right on the edge of being dismissed, young man.’

‘Yes’m. But I’ll do better next week.’

And somehow I did. The last time around the lawn I was exhausted, but I found I could spur myself on. In the exhilaration of that new feeling, I had no hesitation in asking the Countess for three dollars.

Each Thursday for the next four or five weeks, I varied between a three-and a three-and-a-half dollar job. The more I became more acquainted with her lawn, places where the ground was a little high or a little low, places where it needed to be clipped short or left long on the edges to make a more satisfying curve along the garden, the more I became aware of just what a four-dollar lawn would consist of. And each week I would resolve to do just that kind of a job. But by the time I had made my three dollar or three and-a-half dollar mark I was too tired to remember even having had the ambition to go beyond that.

‘You look like a good consistent $3.50 man,’ she would say as she handed me the money.

‘I guess so’ I would say, too happy at the sight of the money to remember that I had shot for something higher.

‘Well, don’t feel too bad,’ she would comfort me. ‘After all, there are only a handful of people in the world who could do a four-dollar job.’

And her words were a comfort at first, but then, without my noticing what was happening, her comfort became an irritant that made me resolve to do that four-dollar job, even if it killed me. In the fever of my resolve, I could see myself expiring on her lawn, with the Countess leaning over me, handing me the four dollars with a tear in her eye, begging my forgiveness for having thought I couldn’t do it.

It was in the middle of such a fever, one Thursday night when I was trying to forget the day’s defeat and get some sleep, that the truth hit me so hard that I sat upright, half choking in my excitement. It was the five-dollar job I had to do, not the four-dollar one! I had to do the job that no one could do because it was impossible.

I was well acquainted with the difficulties ahead. I had the problem, for example, of doing something about the worm mounds in the lawn. The Countess might not even have noticed them yet, they were so small; but in my bare feet I knew about them and I had to do something about them. And I could go on trimming the garden edges with shears, but I knew that a five-dollar lawn demanded that I line up each edge exactly with a yard stick and then trim it precisely with the edger. And there were other problems that only I and my bare feet knew about.

I started the next Thursday by ironing out the worm mounds with a heavy roller. After two hours of that I was ready to give up for the day. Nine o’clock in the morning, and my will was already gone! It was only by accident that I discovered how to regain it. Sitting under a walnut tree for a few minutes after finishing the rolling, I fell asleep. When I woke up minutes later, the lawn looked so good and felt so good under my feet, I was anxious to get on with the job.

I followed this secret for the rest of the day, dozing for a few minutes every hour to regain my perspective and replenish my strength. Between naps, I mowed four times, two times lengthwise, two times across, until the lawn looked like a green velvet checkerboard. Then I dug around every tree, crumbling the big clods and smoothing the soil with my hands, then finished with the edger, meticulously lining up each stroke so that the effect would be perfectly symmetrical. And I carefully trimmed the grass between the flagstones of the front walk. The shears wore my fingers raw, but the walk never looked better.

Finally about eight o’clock that evening … it was all completed. I was so proud I didn’t even feel tired when I went up to her door.

‘Well, what is it today?’ she asked.

‘Five dollars,’ I said, trying for a little calm and sophistication.

‘Five dollars? You mean four dollars, don’t you? I told you that a five-dollar lawn job isn’t possible.’

‘Yes it is. I just did it.’

‘Well, young man, the first five-dollar lawn in history certainly deserves some looking around.’

We walked about the lawn together in the light of evening, and even I was quite overcome by the impossibility of what I had done.

‘Young man,’ she said, putting her hand on my shoulder, ‘what on earth made you do such a crazy, wonderful thing?’

I didn’t know why, but even if I had, I could not have explained it in the excitement of hearing that I had done it.

‘I think I know,’ she continued, ‘how you felt when this idea first came to you of caring for a lawn that I told you was impossible. It made you very happy when it first came, then a little frightened. Am I right?’

She could see she was right by the startled look on my face.

‘I know how you felt, because the same thing happens to almost everyone. They feel this sudden burst in them of wanting to do some great thing. They feel a wonderful happiness, but then it passes because they have said, “No, I can’t do that. It’s impossible.” Whenever something in you says, “It’s impossible,” remember to take a careful look and see if it isn’t really God asking you to grow an inch, or a foot, or a mile, that you may come to a fuller life.’ …

Since that time, some 25 years ago, when I have felt myself at an end with nothing before me, suddenly, with the appearance of that word, ‘impossible,’ I have experienced the unexpected lift, the leap inside me, and known that the only possible way lay through the very middle of impossible.”

I have no idea where I first heard this talk. I thought it was from a recent general conference. But no. Maybe some very inspired young men’s leader shared it with me. All I know is, this story has continually inspired me throughout my life. It’s always stuck with me. And today, it’s helped me once again.

I realized I was trying to be a 4 dollar missionary. And I was constantly falling short, and getting angry, and trying again, and again falling short. But I was reminded at zone conference that I don’t even want a 4, because I’m going for a 5. It’s not about being good enough, it’s about being better than I thought I could be. And this isn’t honestly even about the mission. I don’t have a goal of being a 5 dollar missionary, I want to be a 5 dollar man. It isn’t hard to do everything you have to. But when I remember that I have potentially another 70 years to live, I see I have a lot of time to grow, and I want to use it. So I’m just grateful for the reminder.

Elder Allen is doing good. He’s already a good missionary, and we are really trying to make sure this a companionship, and not a trainer and trainee. He’s awesome, and I love him. Hopefully, we will have another transfer together after this one.

I hope you have had a great week.

Love, Elder Greaves

P.s. Thank you so much for the hump day package! It was awesome!

2015-07-10 Berlin Zone Conference

Elder Greaves is in the third row, directly behind the girl in the black and white dress. Yes, he is making a goofy face. 🙂

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We are still moving forward.

This week saw a high point on Thursday, when we were able to meet with several people and found an investigator in our 20 minutes of finding time. We’ve had to start getting creative to meet with people often. Everyone in our teaching pool is very busy, and because of that, it is difficult for them to make appointments, no matter how bad they want to. Since several of them are masters and Ph.D students, we’ve started to say a prayer before we go out the door that we will be able to just run into them at the library, and so far it has worked 100% of the time. I guess the Lord wants it too! It just feels like everyone is still getting really excited and our investigators are starting to change inside. We are truly watching repentance happen before our eyes!

One investigator we are really excited about is M, a young polish doctor who is best friends with one of our favorite (not that we have favorites) members. He is intensely interested in the Plan of Salvation, and wants literally all of the facts. It felt a little strange at first to be outlining complex principles we don’t usually give investigators so early, but he loves it and as long as it is logically presented, he has no problem with it. What makes it extra fun is he wants scriptures for everything we say, not really to bash or anything, but just so we can outline it. It has been a testimony-builder to me to see how well the scriptures work together to explain and support the Plan of Salvation – if and only if you study it with the lens of the Restoration. Our member is also really enjoying it, and the Spirit is always very strong. It’s a very cerebral-type meeting , but a big development we have seen in M is he is willing to recognize now that it doesn’t have to be proved with science, that spiritual things are just a different area of truth. It has been fun, because he has a lot of the same questions I would have if I was investigating.

Tension is still mounting, and hopefully we will be getting some baptismal dates in the next few weeks with some of these awesome people.

Elder Allen is still progressing a lot – we have become very close. I really enjoy working with him. We make a good team.

It’s still annoying how difficult it is to have appointments, but every situation has it’s problems, and I’d rather have awesome investigators with very little time than the opposite.

This week in personal study, I really have found out for myself that the Plan of Salvation is true. (Okay, I’ve only studied the first half, but I’m just going on faith for the second half. 😉 ) It’s just amazing to see all the doctrine supporting exaltation, deification, a premortal existence, and the beautiful relationship between grace and works. Especially this last point has struck me lately as very poignant.

2 scriptures:

This one most Mormons know of:

James 2: 17 Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone.

18 Yea, a man may say, Thou hast faith, and I have works: shew me thy faith without thy works, and I will shew thee my faith‍ by my works.

19 Thou believest that there is one God; thou doest well: the devils‍ also believe, and tremble.

And this one:

2 Nephi 25: 23 For we labor diligently to write, to persuade our children, and also our brethren, to believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God; for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do.

Here is a less-known and apparently contradicting scripture:

Ephesians 2: 8 For by grace‍ are ye saved‍ through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is‍ the gift‍ of God:

9 Not of works, lest any man should boast.

Interesting. But actually, I think these scriptures work together beautifully when we look closely. We can unequivocally state that it is impossible to be saved on our own. We could not even make it to the telestial kingdom without the grace of Jesus Christ. (“Behold, I, God, have suffered these things for all, that they might not suffer if they would repent; but if they would not repent they must suffer even as I; 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” (D&C 19:16–18). After suffering for their sins, they will be allowed, through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, to inherit the lowest degree of glory, which is the telestial kingdom. (Gospel Principles))

Sometimes, I think we see the scripture in 2nd Nephi and think of grace like a booster rocket. But we know that Christ is actually with us always.

We can imagine it like riding a bike. Those who would believe that through works we are saved are comparable to someone claiming the ability to ride a bike up Mount Everest. It is impossible, will never happen, and is basically hopeless at the very beginning.

Those who believe works aren’t necessary are like those who just ride in a car everywhere. Sure, you’ll get there, but you’re gonna get fat along the way. Talk about terrestrial glory!

But if we truly want to become the best we can be, that is, equal to our Father, we need something of both.

Like… a hybrid bike. Something where you are still pedaling, but when the hill gets steep, the engine makes sure you get there.

One of my favorite talks about the Atonement says

“Sometimes Christians get so excited about being saved by grace that we forget to ask if we have been changed by grace.”

Sometimes, Mormons get so excited about doing works that we forget why. It’s not to earn a spot into heaven by collecting enough gold stars, it’s helping us better ourselves, which is the whole point of life.

Phew. Got that off my chest.

You have a good week!

Elder Greaves