Welcome.

Ever since my sister shared the article on our family OG (Original Gangsters) text thread, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.

It’s called “Who Died.” The LDS author, Jared Moon, tells a meaningful story. Serving as ward missionaries, he and his wife once befriended and fellowshipped a couple with young children. One Sunday the parents did not come to church but sent their six-year-old son, Keaton, with the Moons.

Whereas Moon said it best, I will refer to his own words for the rest of his very meaningful story:

“…Arriving late, we slipped in the back of the chapel. Suddenly I felt a tug and turned to find Keaton gripping my suit coat. With an anxious expression and his eyes fixed on the front of the chapel, he asked, ‘Who died?’

‘What?’ I responded, following his gaze. ‘No one died.’

As I pondered Keaton’s question, I looked at the sacrament table. For a boy with little experience in the Church, it would be easy to see what seemed to be a body lying under the cloth covering the sacramental bread and water. Then it hit me: someone had died. The sacred emblems representing Jesus Christ’s body were right in front of us. With so much experience in the Church, why hadn’t I seen the sweet symbolism?

I thanked Keaton for his question and explained that the sacrament cloth covered bread and water and what they mean to us. His simple question had reminded me that the Savior really did die so we could live…” (Moon, J., “Who Died?” April 2024, Liahona)

Moon admitted that since the time of that question, it had continued to “resonate in [his] soul.” (Moon, J., “Who Died?” April 2024, Liahona)

That is exactly how I would describe it for me, too. A soul resonation. Every Sunday. When I take my seat and look up, to the right. As I prepare for the holiest moment of my week. When I see the prepared emblems. As I watch the boys cover them again. When they return to their seats and my gaze shifts back towards the sacrament table. As I sing the sacramental hymn. As I press the water to my lips and when I bring the bread to my mouth. As I ponder, pray, plead, ask, repent.

Those words pierce my soul: “Who died?”

Last Sunday, those words came thundering, as they have every Sunday since reading that article, into my being.

“Who died?”

Followed right away by this heavenly sent inquiry: “What are you doing about it?”

Who died and what am I doing about it? What a powerful question duo. Some weeks later, I now have an answer.

Five things actually. I’m working hard at doing five things because Someone died, and that Someone, in the perfect form of our gentle Jesus, did it for me.

And you.

So…

First, I want to rejoice in it!

This restored gospel is not one of doom and gloom, hail fire and brimstone. Rather, it is glorious to the core of its message! We are fallen from the presence of God – yes, but in the same breath, we have been redeemed and rescued from that necessary Fall and have been bought and can be brought again – grace upon grace – into light, truth, warmth, and fullness.

Has there ever been such mercy, such a display of concern, such a right to a necessary “wrong”? I know of nothing to equal the enabling power of Jesus or the stunning goodness of God. Absolutely nothing.

“Adam,” Father Lehi taught his son, Jacob, “fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.” (2 Nephi 2:25, Book of Mormon)

We are – or in other words, we exist – that we might have joy. Even in our fallenness. Even in our trials of a thousand kinds. Even when life is hard and the struggles feel overwhelming. Even then. Especially then. In such moments, those are our experiences towards greater, a misty eyed means to an embraced by Father eventual end.

We are to rejoice in the event of the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Garden, most assuredly the empty tomb, His unfathomable resurrection – all of it! And probably most especially in the fact that He was absolutely willing, not at all cornered into doing something He didn’t really want to do. He really wanted to do this redemption thing, and He totally did it. Entirely willing of his own accord when legions of angels- sent by Father –  could have stopped the unfairness and saved our Redeemer incomprehensible, unthinkable and unimaginable pain.

But no!

He pressed on, and “for the joy that was set before him,” (He] “endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:2)

His lot was the most agonizing of all. And yet, “for the joy,” he fulfilled his personally tailored mission.

“For the joy.” (Hebrews 12:2)

For the fact that we have been redeemed and will be resurrected, can we not rejoice? I will rejoice because of who died. That’s what I’ll do about it.

Secondly, I want to proclaim it!

Smitten, in stocks, mocked, and “in derision daily,” Biblical Jeremiah decided to shut his mouth: “Then I said, I will not make mention of him, nor speak any more in his name.” (Jeremiah 20:9). But, he couldn’t hold to this proposed plan. Why? “His word was in mine heart as a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I was weary with forbearing, and I could not stay.” (Jeremiah 20:9)

There are so many like unto Jeremiah – then and now.

Ether was another one. “…Ether came forth…for he could not be restrained because of the Spirit of the Lord which was in him.” (Ether 12:2)

With Jesus resurrected and ascended into heaven, Peter and John boldly declared, “For we cannot but speak the things which we have seen and heard…” (Acts 4:20)

We have so many examples of old and not so old. Elder Holland for a very recent one.

If we truly rejoice in the glory and realness of our redemption from death, sin through our repentance, and ignorance through our consistent efforts, we, too, will want to be numbered among those whose mouths can’t be shut because of the fire of testimony burning inside our souls.

For the fact that we have been redeemed and will be resurrected, can we not proclaim it? I will boldly and widely declare because of who died. That’s what I’ll do about it.

Then, I want to defend it!

I’m no lawyer, and I don’t have professional apparatuses in my defense toolbox. It’s just raw, from the heart and sometimes from the hip sort of defenses, but they are sufficient when I need them. Once I was asked why I was so happy. Another time I asked someone if they would consider another way to express their frustrations rather than using the name of Deity strewn in the middle of other expletives.

And other times I’ve been silent. Sometimes when I should have spoken up. Like Chicago a few weeks ago. Someone held a sign that was in favor of Jesus Christ, and as we passed by it, another street walker close to us shouted out something against Jesus. I spoke my affirmations to my husband in private, but perhaps I should have likewise voiced them publicly. It counts most that they were written on my heart, but sometimes we ought to use our voices in defense as well. I have been too silent too often when the Holy Ghost has prodded otherwise.

Still, the truth is that my heart desires to counterattack a nasty jab to Jesus and the fact that He died for all mankind. I desperately want to protect His name from danger, from harm, from disbelief. To safeguard, preserve, secure, shelter, speak and write in favor of Him and His cause, fight for it.

Like Captain Moroni.

Banner and all.

“In [defense] of our God, our religion, and freedom, and our peace, our wives, and our children…” (Alma 46:12) The Jesus that died and now lives for all of us is worth defending. Only through defending His position as our redeeming Savior can we hope for peace for ourselves, our children, and our nations.

For the fact that we have been redeemed and will be resurrected, can we not defend it? I will defend because of who died. That’s what I’ll do about it.

Next, I want to embrace it!

This is the work of hugging, loving, tucking, securing. Getting it deep down inside the heart organ. Living it – not just knowing it. This is tough work, a sanctified process, a holy endeavor. Only possible with our submission and the Spirit’s tutoring and leading.

It’s the daily choice to receive what Father wants to send. Embracing the absolute certainty that “all things work together for good to them that love God…” (Romans 8:28)

A wide-open heart. One that receives it all with firm faith in Christ and assurance in the promises from Father.

For the fact that we have been redeemed and will be resurrected, can we not embrace it? I will embrace because of who died. That’s what I’ll do about it.

Lastly, I want to champion it!

The captain of our souls that is. That’s who I want to champion. We have a victor who has defeated all, surpassed everything, a “high priest which cannot [not] be touched with the feeling of our infirmities…” (Hebrews 4:15) A true Empath. A really “old friend” who has known us for a really long time. (Concept of Jesus as being an old friend taken from Emily Freeman’s book, “Grace to Become.”)

What cause could be greater to champion?

Nothing.

We can stand with Him, remain on His team, take His side because our victory has been won. Through Him, “we are more than conquerors.” (Romans 8:37)

I’m staying close to the Ultimate Champ, and I want to champion Him in word, in deed, in cause, and in effort.

For the fact that we have been redeemed and will be resurrected, can we not champion it? I will champion because of who died. That’s what I’ll do about it.

Who died? Jesus. What am I doing about it?

Rejoicing in the truth of it! Proclaiming it through example and the spoken word. Defending it – perhaps one day at the peril of my own blood. Embracing it heart and soul strong. And forever and always, championing it.

Unto all the world: Who died and what am I doing about it?