The shadow a seminary teacher cast

Editor's note: With the upcoming 100-year celebration of the LDS Church's seminary program, Mormon Times is sharing experiences and blessings of seminary.

A series of recent events has caused me to reflect on a couple of very important eternal principals: gratitude and love.

Recently, the new wife of a former student called to thank me for my influence on her husband during his high school years. Deeply touched, I remembered teachers in my past who were long overdue thanks. While there have been many, one man came to mind again and again — a seminary teacher.

Oddly, my contact with this man was fleeting. I did not enroll in seminary, I never sat in his class, nor did I attend a meeting with him, yet his impact on my life was profound. Odder still, not a month later, a classmate called to invite me to an open house in honor of this man’s 70th birthday.

The day arrived and as my wife and I traveled from Idaho to Utah, I wondered how many and which of my classmates would attend. After all, it had been more than 30 years and there were more than 700 students in our graduating class. As we pulled into the parking lot of the community center in Farmington, the number of cars in the lot surprised us. As we walked in the doors to a sea of semi-familiar faces and even more familiar voices, those 30 years seemed to melt away and my high school experience seemed only the day before.

My story of this man is certainly not unique and differs from those of my classmates only in the details, but I would like to share my story of this extraordinary man, this master teacher.

In the mid-1970s I was a bit of a rebel — not fully out of control, mind you; I just wouldn't have been your first choice to date your daughter. Although I was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, on good days I was apathetic; on bad days, I was nearly apostate. I had been disaffected by the judgmental attitude of some of our members and, in turn, became judgmental myself.

The group I associated with —my kids would say "hung with" — were mostly self-professed questioners, which was not too unusual at that age. Many attended Mormon seminary classes, but claimed it was because their folks made them. Bit by bit, I began to hear snatches of conversation in the halls, first between the seminary council-types and then later among my own group of friends.

“Wow, Bro. ----- said..."

"Did you hear Bro. -----?"

"In Bro. -----'s class...”