A School in Zion - Quotes

Surely we of all people are moved that "indomitable urge" to expand life, to enlarge it, to improve it. That is our hope, our heritage, our theology. From the beginning ours has been a soul stretching belief. "Thy mind, O man!" said the Prophet Joseph Smith, "if thou wilt lead a soul to salvation, must stretch as high as the utmost heavens, and search into and contemplate the darkest abyss, and the broad expanse of eternity" (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, p. 137). Only then, he said, could we "contemplate the mighty acts of Jehovah in all their variety and glory" (Teachings, p. 163).

The mighty acts of Jehovah? I have believed that BYU should be one of the "mighty acts of Jehovah." To be less than that for His purposes and His people seemed to me a blasphemy. (p. 31)

The most conspicuous and fundamental reason for a "school in Zion" is plainly and simply because it is our theology. You know the verses: "Do the work of printing and selecting and writing books for schools in this church, that little children also may receive instruction before me as is pleasing unto me" (D&C 55:4).

"Teach ye diligently and my grace shall attend you, that you may be instructed more perfectly in . . . things both in heaven and in the earth, and under the earth; things which have been, things which are, things which must shortly come to pass; ... a knowledge also of countries and of kingdoms" (D&C 88:78-79).

"Seek ye out of the best books words of wisdom; seek learning even by study and also by faith" (D&C 88:118).

"Study and learn, and become acquainted with all good books, and with languages, tongues, and people" (D&C 90:15).

Our knowledge will rise with us in the resurrection, we are told, and most sobering of all is the warning: "It is impossible for a man to be saved in ignorance" (D&C 131:6), for "the glory of God is intelligence, or, in other words, light and truth," and "Light and truth forsake that evil one" (D&C 93:36, 37).

So part of the message of that restored gospel of Jesus Christ, part of the light now shining into what have been dark ages indeed, is the divine counsel that "to be learned is good if we harken unto the counsel of God" (2 Nephi 9:29). (pp. 32-33)

It is axiomatic that some truths matter much more than others, but an educated LDS mind would know that and, having circumscribed all truth into one great whole, would order and integrate and prioritize truth, mixing knowledge with virtue, love and the saving ordinances of God. In reflecting on the atrocities of the Holocaust, George Steiner observed, "We now know that a man can listen to Bach at sundown, read Goethe in the evening, and the next day . . . gas his fellowmen. What grows up inside literate civilization that seems to lead to barbarism? What grows up," he says, "is information without knowledge, knowledge without wisdom, and wisdom without . . . compassion." A Latter-day Saint, on the other hand, would listen to Bach at sundown, read Goethe in the evening, and the next day die for his fellowmen, if necessary. (p. 33)

I am convinced that the Lord needs a "school in Zion" now, even more than a century ago, to help a generation, indeed to help an entire Church membership, sort through much intellectual nonsense that is inevitably in an inert swamp of facts. More than any time in human history our students need--like Matthew Arnold needed--a Latter-day Saint Sophocles to teach them, to whom they would gladly give " . . . special thanks, [for an] even-balanced soul,/Who saw life steadily and saw it whole" ("To a Friend").

How might we at BYU cultivate this larger sense of connectedness and community? I do worry about faculty, staff and administrative segmentation that keeps us from being a full-fledged "school in Zion." Fortunately the aspirations I spoke of earlier work in our favor. The ennobling climb toward an Everest allows us--indeed requires us--to take the high ground, gives us a place to view the broader, more liberating, more eternal "general" education, if you will, which is so fundamental to the growth of the human mind and development of the human soul.

That is the real merging we someday have to do here--not only organizing and pruning and prioritizing the world's knowledge all about us but also fusing gospel insights and gospel perspectives into every field and discipline of study.

I would quickly note that some disciplines probably lend themselves a little more directly to gospel insights and influence--to the connections and balance that BYU ought to offer--than others, so please spare me the sardonic questions as to whether there is a Mormon mathematics or a consecrated chemistry. There probably isn't, but I would say there are Mormon mathematicians and consecrated chemists and endowed engineers and historians. And that should be an advantage in our integration of truth.

I am making an unabashed appeal for a distinctly LDS approach to education. (p. 35)

Across the breadth of our university effort we must respect and elevate the status of the students themselves. They must be seen as more than what Henry Rosovsky called at Harvard "the lumpenproletariat." She is someone's perfect daughter, he is someone's precious son--and they are certainly brothers and sisters to us all. Furthermore, they are coming to us better prepared than ever before, so we need to expect more of them and of ourselves while they are here. Missionary-like, we need to make this the best four years of their lives.

I have always loved Elder Marion D. Hanks' telling of the John Trebonius story. John Trebonius used to take off his hat upon entering the classroom when it was the Germanic custom of the day for professors to keep them on. When asked why he was so needlessly kind to his pupils, he replied, "These little boys will some day be men, and I do not know but that there sits among them one who will change the destiny of mankind. I take off my hat in deference to what they may become." Sitting in his classroom, watching the ways of that gentle man, was the young Martin Luther. (See The Gift of Self, p. 126.) (p. 38)

What happens when the true church grows so large and has such call upon its resources that it can perhaps support only the idea, only the concept of education, rather than actual schools in which to provide it?

In such a time of growth and need, could not the one true Church profit magnificently from at least one gleaming evidence of the Church's "support of education," one university sparkling, however distantly, for those saints who now cluster in their localities, with a somewhat altered sense of gathering than Zion once had? Could not BYU, both symbolically and substantially, be an unparalleled, incomparable blessing to every one of those saints, from Nigeria to Newfoundland, who may never, ever set foot on BYU soil, let alone dream of having one of their own? Could it not be a house of hope and glory to every member of the Church everywhere who is trying to grow, trying to learn, trying to be strong and safe and spiritual in a very secular world? I should surely think so. (p. 38)