One of the joys of being a part of a church with a lay clergy is that ordinary members of the congregation, or ward as we call it, are given assignments or responsibilities, or as we refer to them “callings”, to teach, serve, and lead. One is called to teach Sunday School. Another is called to lead the Cub Scouts. Some are called to coordinate efforts to take meals to new mothers, mourning families, or the sick and needy. Callings are even extended to those asked to cheerfully greet members to worship services. Every class, group, and organization within the church requires leaders and other helpers called from among the members themselves.
In my adult life, I’ve had a few different callings that have provided me various experiences. I’ve taught Sunday School. I’ve led the ward choir and played the piano in Primary. I’ve been a Ward Mission Leader, and I’ve played as toddler referee in the Nursery. For two years, I awoke daily at 5 AM to teach bleary-eyed teenagers scriptural lessons as an early-morning seminary teacher. I spent another two years over 5000 miles away from home trying to speak a language that sounds like that spoken by the Ewoks and learning to love another people as a full-time missionary in Estonia. But, of all these various duties and callings, the most difficult, by far, was my call to be a family history consultant.
We believe that Malachi’s prophesy regarding the return of Elijah, who would turn “the hearts of the fathers to the children and the hearts of the children to the fathers” refers to the great work of looking to our forbears, learning who these men and women were, gleaning from the life lessons of these ancestors as we grow to love them, and ultimately performing saving ordinances for them in holy temples. As I began this daunting task of learning how to research my family tree, and inspiring others to also turn their hearts to their ancestors, I felt overwhelmed and met many roadblocks. At the same time, I was richly rewarded for my efforts and had several fulfilling success. Of these, one of the most notable was when I was finally able to untangle one of the most convoluted family trees to have ever lived. Which tree was this? Certainly not mine… I’m thinking of the family tree of Ray Stevens. I’m sure you’ve heard of Ray’s family tree before. Perhaps you, like me, have gone so far as to map out his tree and try to make sense of his song. In the end, Ray Stevens reaches the logical conclusion: I am my own grandpa… see if you can follow his logic (listen here):
In my adult life, I’ve had a few different callings that have provided me various experiences. I’ve taught Sunday School. I’ve led the ward choir and played the piano in Primary. I’ve been a Ward Mission Leader, and I’ve played as toddler referee in the Nursery. For two years, I awoke daily at 5 AM to teach bleary-eyed teenagers scriptural lessons as an early-morning seminary teacher. I spent another two years over 5000 miles away from home trying to speak a language that sounds like that spoken by the Ewoks and learning to love another people as a full-time missionary in Estonia. But, of all these various duties and callings, the most difficult, by far, was my call to be a family history consultant.
We believe that Malachi’s prophesy regarding the return of Elijah, who would turn “the hearts of the fathers to the children and the hearts of the children to the fathers” refers to the great work of looking to our forbears, learning who these men and women were, gleaning from the life lessons of these ancestors as we grow to love them, and ultimately performing saving ordinances for them in holy temples. As I began this daunting task of learning how to research my family tree, and inspiring others to also turn their hearts to their ancestors, I felt overwhelmed and met many roadblocks. At the same time, I was richly rewarded for my efforts and had several fulfilling success. Of these, one of the most notable was when I was finally able to untangle one of the most convoluted family trees to have ever lived. Which tree was this? Certainly not mine… I’m thinking of the family tree of Ray Stevens. I’m sure you’ve heard of Ray’s family tree before. Perhaps you, like me, have gone so far as to map out his tree and try to make sense of his song. In the end, Ray Stevens reaches the logical conclusion: I am my own grandpa… see if you can follow his logic (listen here):
Now many, many years ago when I was twenty-three
I was married to a widow who was pretty as can be
This widow had a grown-up daughter who had hair of red
My father fell in love with her and soon they too were wed
This made my dad my son-in-law and changed my very life
My daughter was my mother 'cause she was my father's wife
To complicate the matter even though it brought me joy
I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy
My little baby then became a brother-in-law to Dad
And so became my uncle, though it made me very sad
For if he was my uncle, then that also made him brother
Of the widow's grown-up daughter who was also my stepmother
Father's wife then had a son who kept them on the run
And he became my grandchild, for he was my daughter's son
My wife is now my mother's mother and it makes me blue
Because although she is my wife, she's my grandmother too
Now if my wife is my grandmother, then I'm her grandchild
And every time I think of it, it nearly drives me wild
For now I have become the strangest case I ever saw
As husband of my grandmother, I am my own grandpa
I was married to a widow who was pretty as can be
This widow had a grown-up daughter who had hair of red
My father fell in love with her and soon they too were wed
This made my dad my son-in-law and changed my very life
My daughter was my mother 'cause she was my father's wife
To complicate the matter even though it brought me joy
I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy
My little baby then became a brother-in-law to Dad
And so became my uncle, though it made me very sad
For if he was my uncle, then that also made him brother
Of the widow's grown-up daughter who was also my stepmother
Father's wife then had a son who kept them on the run
And he became my grandchild, for he was my daughter's son
My wife is now my mother's mother and it makes me blue
Because although she is my wife, she's my grandmother too
Now if my wife is my grandmother, then I'm her grandchild
And every time I think of it, it nearly drives me wild
For now I have become the strangest case I ever saw
As husband of my grandmother, I am my own grandpa
Did you follow all that? Neither did I, the first 50 times I listened to that song. But this isn’t the only family that’s difficult to map out. All you have to do is open up your scriptures and you can find many other families and genealogies that are every bit as convoluted and difficult to sort out as this one. So let’s open up the Book of Mormon, and I’d like to introduce you to the Johnson and the Jones families. Now I know some of you scriptorians out there have read this wondrous book dozens of times and will confidently assert that there is neither a “Johnson” nor a “Jones” family in the Book of Mormon. I’d like to show you otherwise.
When I was preparing for my Estonian mission, I spent a few months in the MTC, or Missionary Training Center. While there, one guest speaker introduced us missionaries to the Joneses and the Johnsons, and I’ve gratefully studied these families ever since.
To better understand the Johnsons, you first have to meet the Jones family. If you’ve read the Book of Mormon, then you’ve certainly met Father Jones. In fact, if you’re like me, you’ve started reading the Book of Mormon more times than you’ve finished it. This means that you’ve probably read Father Lehi Jones’ story more than any other as he followed the Lord’s guidance to leave Jerusalem and journey to a land of promise. Now I won’t rehash the entirety of this book that begins with this Father’s story. But let’s trace the Jones family line. Let’s see… we have 6 Jones boys: 2 naughty, 2 nice, and 2 who are often forgotten, being quite a bit younger than the others. The Jones boy you surely remember best is number four in the lineup, Nephi Jones. Nephi was a strapping young man who was the apple of his father’s eye. Every family has one of these, and the other siblings either struggle to measure up or end up resenting that golden child. In the Jones family, the latter was truer and there was a good deal of familial turbulence during the family’s international travels. Nephi Jones was inspired to keep a record of his family’s history, which he kept on plates of metal, recording both a historical account and a spiritual journal of their experiences as a family.
I introduce you to the Jones family so that you can follow these family records as they are handed from generation to generation, with the understanding that these records were very sacred to this family and that personal righteousness and strong leadership were necessary traits in any family member entrusted with their care. In Nephi’s old age, he passed the plates along to his younger brother, Jacob Jones, one of those two brothers born in the wilderness in their father’s later years. As keeper of the records, Jacob Jones was also regarded as a spiritual leader and prophet among the Jones family. From his writings, we can see his maturity and wisdom and even learn that he saw the Savior almost 600 years before the Nativity. Jacob then entrusted the plates to his son, Enos Jones, who added a few words of his own about a special experience that he had due to his father’s teachings and example. The plates were then passed from generation to generation on through the Jacob Jones family to Jacob’s grandson Jarom, to his great grandson Omni, and then his great-great grandson Abinadon Jones, each keeper adding words of spiritual insight and other records of the history of the family.
Abinadon Jones entrusted the plates to his brother Chemish, who in turn handed them off to his nephew, Abinadon’s son, Amaleki Jones. Having trouble keeping up with the Jones? So am I.
Now let’s meet the Williams family, one more family that will help us sort out these family trees. The Williams family line is also descended from Nephi Jones, perhaps with some convoluted marriages of fathers to step-granddaughters or daughters to step-half uncles and the like. The specific genealogy is lost to us, but Mosiah Williams was the king of the Nephite people, or posterity of Nephi Jones, in the days of Amaleki Jones, keeper of the plates. Perhaps Amaleki had no next of kin to whom he could bequeath the plates. Perhaps he felt that Mosiah, as a righteous king, was better equipped and prepared to continue the important task of serving as family historian. Whatever the reason, Mosiah Williams added spiritual and historical record keeper to his kingly duties.
During the days of Mosiah Williams, another descendant of Nephi Jones, Zeniff, felt a zealous drive to reclaim the lands of the Jones family’s inheritance. Over several hundred years, the Nephites had become emotionally, spiritually, and physically
separated from the Lamanites, or the descendants of Laman Jones, one of the two not-so-nice Jones boys. Zeniff led a group of Nephites to reestablish a city in those lands his people had years before abandoned to the Lamanites. Zeniff was a good man, but his son, Noah, was not. Lazy, irreverent, prideful, and slow to hear the word of the Lord, Noah inspired his people to follow his unrighteous example. And so the Lord sent a prophet named Abinadi to warn and chastise Noah and his people. Noah and his priests rejected and ultimately executed this prophet. But Abinadi had one single convert—one of those wicked priests of Noah—a man named Alma Johnson.
So we’ve finally met the Johnson family, which descends from this repentant and humble patriarch named Alma. Through Alma’s example and ministry, many of King Noah’s subjects were humbled and converted to the truth. Alma’s people eventually returned to rejoin the Nephite people ruled by Mosiah Williams, the righteous grandson of the king with the same name. Alma Johnson established a church among Mosiah’s people. But his wayward son, Alma Johnson Jr., went about with the four Williams princes, also wayward, seeking to destroy this church established by his father. Through the miraculous intervention of a heavenly angel and the loving support of both fathers, these five Williams and Johnson boys repented of their unrighteousness and became five of the greatest missionaries in the Book of Mormon. The Williams boys were so determined to repair the damage they had caused that each rejected an inheritance to the throne and to the role of family historian and record keeper so as to focus solely on missionary work at home and abroad. So Mosiah Williams passed the plates on to Alma Johnson Jr. and restructured the government to one that was ruled by elected judges rather than a monarch.
Alma Jr. spent his days teaching his people righteousness and strived to raise three righteous sons of his own who could continue in his stead. His sons had their own struggles and weaknesses, and Alma Johnson Jr. was able to share his own conversion story of repentance to hopefully spare his sons from repeating his mistakes. One of his sons, Helaman Johnson, inherited the plates and continued that righteous Johnson legacy as the commander of an army of 2000 strippling converts of the Williams missionaries. After the war, in which Helaman’s band was miraculously preserved and protected by God, Helaman Johnson, the grandson of Alma Johnson—ex-priest of Noah—bequeathed the plates to his son, Helaman Johnson Jr. Helaman Jr. had two sons that he named Nephi and Lehi in honor and memory of their great-great-great-great-and-many-other-greats grandparents, Nephi and Lehi Jones. He told his sons to remember the legacy of those grandparents for whom they were named and exhorted them to anchor themselves firmly to Christ, the rock of our salvation. Nephi Johnson assumed ownership of the plates and family records and was a great missionary himself.
Nephi Johnson Jr. next inherited the plates and lived in a time when there was great wickedness and unrest among the Nephite people. A stalwart few awaited the fulfillment of prophesy, promising that the righteous would see signs of the Messiah’s mortal birth and death and that they would be visited by this Savior of the World. The unrighteous majority was visited with destruction and death. The surviving people gathered under Nephi’s spiritual leadership to rebuild the temple. It was there that the Savior Jesus Christ visited the righteous remnant of Nephi Jones’ posterity. Nephi Johnson Jr. was ordained as an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ and was instructed to make a record of those teachings and happenings that took place during this most sacred and holy visitation within the Jones family histories or on the plates of Nephi Jones.
For almost two centuries following this Messianic visitation, there was complete peace and prosperity among the descendants of Nephi Jones. During this time, the plates were passed from Nephi Johnson Jr. to his son Amos, to his grandson Amos Johnson Jr., and then to Amos’ brother Ammaron Johnson, the 5th great grandson of Alma Johnson. It was this Ammaron Johnson that, as an old man, sought out and ordained the ten year old boy Mormon—who wasn’t a Johnson—as a future prophet and keeper of the Nephite records. This Mormon compiled all of the Jones family records into a single set of golden plates. His abridgment of the records of his people is known as The Book of Mormon and was delivered to his son Moroni who sealed up and hid these records in the Hill Cummorah, to be divinely found more than a millennium later by a young man named Joseph Smith.
Now let’s step back for a second and look at the big picture. The history of an entire people, its faith and beliefs, its conflicts and wars, and the miracles and divine manifestations among its ranks, was carefully recorded and safeguarded by a strong chain of spiritual leaders or prophets. Beginning with Lehi Jones, we see two quite different generational chains extending through the descendants of Nephi Jones and those of Laman Jones. However, within the histories of both family lines, you will find both righteousness and wickedness. But as we trace the line of the prophets or record keepers among the Nephites, we find a strong chain of faithfulness and obedience to God. This chain often passed from father to son but jumped several times to brother, nephew, governing leader, or boy of promise as directed by the Holy Spirit. But I find it especially interesting to look to the familial chains of the Jones and Johnson families.
Beginning with Father Lehi Jones, we can follow, through the line of Jacob Jones, seven generations of righteous men who were faithful and worthy to serve as family historian and spiritual leader. Beginning with Alma Johnson, a former sinner who converted to the truth, we can trace eight generations down to Ammaron, each man serving not only as record keeper but also as a shining example of righteousness and faithfulness in times of trial and great wickedness.
Think of Alma Johnson Jr. who, despite being thrown into prison and being forced to watch the violent martyrdom of innocent women and children, confidently and powerfully bore testimony to those that would have his life. Think of General Helaman Johnson, captain of the 2000 strippling warriors, whose faith inspired that of 2000 others to the preservation of their very lives. Think of Nephi Johnson who was so trusted by our Heavenly Father that he was given the sealing power, that whatsoever he said would be bound—or carried out—in both heaven and earth. Think of Nephi Johnson Jr. who heard the voice of the Savior on the night before His wondrous birth in the Holy Land, “Lift up your head and be of good cheer; for behold, the time is at hand, and on the morrow come I into the world, to show unto the world that I will fulfil all things which I have made known unto the children of men from the foundation of the world, and to do the will, both of the Father and of the Son.”
So where are the black sheep of the Johnson family? Honestly, there probably were a few bad apples among that family every few generations. In fact, we know that Alma Johnson Jr. had a wayward son of his own. His son Corianton got himself into some moral trouble with a girl and found himself on the long and difficult road to repentance and forgiveness. But we can read the priceless counsel, full of love and encouragement, hope and forgiveness, shared by a loving father to a struggling son. And in those words, we find the understanding and compassion that is so greatly enhanced and accented coming from a man who himself had traversed that same road to repentance. That story is such a wonderful example of the love and faith that so strongly forged the generational links of the Johnson family, one of the most faithful and strong family chains in the whole of the Book of Mormon.
So I’ve now had the opportunity to unravel both the family tree of Ray Stevens and that of Nephi Jones. There may yet be hope for me as a family history consultant. But let me tell you one family line that remains tangled beyond repair to me. This was the Brown family, whose entire family history of a thousand years was compiled into 15 short chapters of the Book of Ether in the Book of Mormon. The Brown family’s history begins much like that of Father Lehi Jones, as a righteous family is inspired to flee a wicked populace and to journey to a land of promise. The first keeper of their records, a man who is not even identified by name beyond being known as the Brother of Jared Brown, was so completely full of faith in Christ that he could not be kept within the veil and was able to see his Lord and Master. Of this brother, Christ exclaimed, “Never has man come before me with such exceeding faith as thou hast!” With this kind of faith surrounding the Brown family patriarch, you might expect great and wondrous things from the generational chain of his posterity. However, we find a family line of rulers and usurpers, of conspirators and assassins, and of men after the order of Master Mahan who loved Satan more than God.
We also find men of righteousness who followed the examples of their family patriarchs, Jared Brown and his brother. But the secret murders and conspiracies and unrighteous dominion of wicked kings makes in nigh impossible to map out the Brown family tree without getting horribly scratched and cut up by all of the bristles, thorns, and briars to be found.
Now compare the Browns to the Johnsons. What was different? I don’t think we can pinpoint one single quality or circumstance that differentiates these two family chains. I think what we will find is small differences at each union of the individual links of these two chains. In the Brown family, we might not find a father Alma pleading in prayer for divine intervention for his wayward son Alma Jr. We might not find a father Alma Jr. pouring out his heart and soul in testimony to a struggling son of his own. We might not find a father Helaman lovingly counseling his sons to look to their namesakes and their ancestors as examples of how they should conduct their lives. We will ultimately find that there is no magical spell that transformed the entire family chain into a strong, unbreakable one. The chain was not forged of mithril, or some other precious, unbreakable ore. Rather, we will find that each union of links was carefully and lovingly forged as a father teaches through example and a son respectfully listens and follows.
Now my own family is not quite on par with the Joneses, the Johnsons, or the Williams. But we certainly don’t struggle quite as much as the Browns. In the spirit of Father’s Day, I wanted to take a moment to record for my own posterity a tribute and expression of gratitude for the link that my father has forged and is continuing to forge for me.
Just before his death, Father Lehi Jones took aside each of his sons to share counsel and blessings unique to each. Father Lehi pled with his sons, “Arise from the dust, my sons, and be men, and be determined in one mind and in one heart, united in all things.”
I love that exhortation to be men. As a young boy in the primary, I looked up to the teenagers of the Aaronic Priesthood who blessed and passed the sacrament each Sunday and wanted to be just like them. When I was their age, I looked up to those young men leaving for full-time missions and wanted to be just like them. When I was getting ready to board a plane on my way to Estonia, I looked up to my older brother, who had just returned from a mission of his own, and wanted to be just like him. When I got off a plane two years later, I saw my dad, a wonderful example of a worthy and a strong man, and realized that more than anyone else, I wanted to be just like him. Inspired by Lehi’s counsel to his sons, I wanted to be a man of righteousness, and I knew whose example and counsel I should follow. What I didn’t fully realize at the time was that my father had already been teaching me how to become a man for the past twenty-one years. And he will continue to teach me through word and example for the next twenty-one years and beyond as I endeavor to more fully become a man of God. And so, a few thoughts about my father, entitled Becoming a Man.
When I was preparing for my Estonian mission, I spent a few months in the MTC, or Missionary Training Center. While there, one guest speaker introduced us missionaries to the Joneses and the Johnsons, and I’ve gratefully studied these families ever since.
To better understand the Johnsons, you first have to meet the Jones family. If you’ve read the Book of Mormon, then you’ve certainly met Father Jones. In fact, if you’re like me, you’ve started reading the Book of Mormon more times than you’ve finished it. This means that you’ve probably read Father Lehi Jones’ story more than any other as he followed the Lord’s guidance to leave Jerusalem and journey to a land of promise. Now I won’t rehash the entirety of this book that begins with this Father’s story. But let’s trace the Jones family line. Let’s see… we have 6 Jones boys: 2 naughty, 2 nice, and 2 who are often forgotten, being quite a bit younger than the others. The Jones boy you surely remember best is number four in the lineup, Nephi Jones. Nephi was a strapping young man who was the apple of his father’s eye. Every family has one of these, and the other siblings either struggle to measure up or end up resenting that golden child. In the Jones family, the latter was truer and there was a good deal of familial turbulence during the family’s international travels. Nephi Jones was inspired to keep a record of his family’s history, which he kept on plates of metal, recording both a historical account and a spiritual journal of their experiences as a family.I introduce you to the Jones family so that you can follow these family records as they are handed from generation to generation, with the understanding that these records were very sacred to this family and that personal righteousness and strong leadership were necessary traits in any family member entrusted with their care. In Nephi’s old age, he passed the plates along to his younger brother, Jacob Jones, one of those two brothers born in the wilderness in their father’s later years. As keeper of the records, Jacob Jones was also regarded as a spiritual leader and prophet among the Jones family. From his writings, we can see his maturity and wisdom and even learn that he saw the Savior almost 600 years before the Nativity. Jacob then entrusted the plates to his son, Enos Jones, who added a few words of his own about a special experience that he had due to his father’s teachings and example. The plates were then passed from generation to generation on through the Jacob Jones family to Jacob’s grandson Jarom, to his great grandson Omni, and then his great-great grandson Abinadon Jones, each keeper adding words of spiritual insight and other records of the history of the family.
Abinadon Jones entrusted the plates to his brother Chemish, who in turn handed them off to his nephew, Abinadon’s son, Amaleki Jones. Having trouble keeping up with the Jones? So am I.
Now let’s meet the Williams family, one more family that will help us sort out these family trees. The Williams family line is also descended from Nephi Jones, perhaps with some convoluted marriages of fathers to step-granddaughters or daughters to step-half uncles and the like. The specific genealogy is lost to us, but Mosiah Williams was the king of the Nephite people, or posterity of Nephi Jones, in the days of Amaleki Jones, keeper of the plates. Perhaps Amaleki had no next of kin to whom he could bequeath the plates. Perhaps he felt that Mosiah, as a righteous king, was better equipped and prepared to continue the important task of serving as family historian. Whatever the reason, Mosiah Williams added spiritual and historical record keeper to his kingly duties.During the days of Mosiah Williams, another descendant of Nephi Jones, Zeniff, felt a zealous drive to reclaim the lands of the Jones family’s inheritance. Over several hundred years, the Nephites had become emotionally, spiritually, and physically
separated from the Lamanites, or the descendants of Laman Jones, one of the two not-so-nice Jones boys. Zeniff led a group of Nephites to reestablish a city in those lands his people had years before abandoned to the Lamanites. Zeniff was a good man, but his son, Noah, was not. Lazy, irreverent, prideful, and slow to hear the word of the Lord, Noah inspired his people to follow his unrighteous example. And so the Lord sent a prophet named Abinadi to warn and chastise Noah and his people. Noah and his priests rejected and ultimately executed this prophet. But Abinadi had one single convert—one of those wicked priests of Noah—a man named Alma Johnson.
So we’ve finally met the Johnson family, which descends from this repentant and humble patriarch named Alma. Through Alma’s example and ministry, many of King Noah’s subjects were humbled and converted to the truth. Alma’s people eventually returned to rejoin the Nephite people ruled by Mosiah Williams, the righteous grandson of the king with the same name. Alma Johnson established a church among Mosiah’s people. But his wayward son, Alma Johnson Jr., went about with the four Williams princes, also wayward, seeking to destroy this church established by his father. Through the miraculous intervention of a heavenly angel and the loving support of both fathers, these five Williams and Johnson boys repented of their unrighteousness and became five of the greatest missionaries in the Book of Mormon. The Williams boys were so determined to repair the damage they had caused that each rejected an inheritance to the throne and to the role of family historian and record keeper so as to focus solely on missionary work at home and abroad. So Mosiah Williams passed the plates on to Alma Johnson Jr. and restructured the government to one that was ruled by elected judges rather than a monarch.Alma Jr. spent his days teaching his people righteousness and strived to raise three righteous sons of his own who could continue in his stead. His sons had their own struggles and weaknesses, and Alma Johnson Jr. was able to share his own conversion story of repentance to hopefully spare his sons from repeating his mistakes. One of his sons, Helaman Johnson, inherited the plates and continued that righteous Johnson legacy as the commander of an army of 2000 strippling converts of the Williams missionaries. After the war, in which Helaman’s band was miraculously preserved and protected by God, Helaman Johnson, the grandson of Alma Johnson—ex-priest of Noah—bequeathed the plates to his son, Helaman Johnson Jr. Helaman Jr. had two sons that he named Nephi and Lehi in honor and memory of their great-great-great-great-and-many-other-greats grandparents, Nephi and Lehi Jones. He told his sons to remember the legacy of those grandparents for whom they were named and exhorted them to anchor themselves firmly to Christ, the rock of our salvation. Nephi Johnson assumed ownership of the plates and family records and was a great missionary himself.
Nephi Johnson Jr. next inherited the plates and lived in a time when there was great wickedness and unrest among the Nephite people. A stalwart few awaited the fulfillment of prophesy, promising that the righteous would see signs of the Messiah’s mortal birth and death and that they would be visited by this Savior of the World. The unrighteous majority was visited with destruction and death. The surviving people gathered under Nephi’s spiritual leadership to rebuild the temple. It was there that the Savior Jesus Christ visited the righteous remnant of Nephi Jones’ posterity. Nephi Johnson Jr. was ordained as an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ and was instructed to make a record of those teachings and happenings that took place during this most sacred and holy visitation within the Jones family histories or on the plates of Nephi Jones.
For almost two centuries following this Messianic visitation, there was complete peace and prosperity among the descendants of Nephi Jones. During this time, the plates were passed from Nephi Johnson Jr. to his son Amos, to his grandson Amos Johnson Jr., and then to Amos’ brother Ammaron Johnson, the 5th great grandson of Alma Johnson. It was this Ammaron Johnson that, as an old man, sought out and ordained the ten year old boy Mormon—who wasn’t a Johnson—as a future prophet and keeper of the Nephite records. This Mormon compiled all of the Jones family records into a single set of golden plates. His abridgment of the records of his people is known as The Book of Mormon and was delivered to his son Moroni who sealed up and hid these records in the Hill Cummorah, to be divinely found more than a millennium later by a young man named Joseph Smith.
Now let’s step back for a second and look at the big picture. The history of an entire people, its faith and beliefs, its conflicts and wars, and the miracles and divine manifestations among its ranks, was carefully recorded and safeguarded by a strong chain of spiritual leaders or prophets. Beginning with Lehi Jones, we see two quite different generational chains extending through the descendants of Nephi Jones and those of Laman Jones. However, within the histories of both family lines, you will find both righteousness and wickedness. But as we trace the line of the prophets or record keepers among the Nephites, we find a strong chain of faithfulness and obedience to God. This chain often passed from father to son but jumped several times to brother, nephew, governing leader, or boy of promise as directed by the Holy Spirit. But I find it especially interesting to look to the familial chains of the Jones and Johnson families.Beginning with Father Lehi Jones, we can follow, through the line of Jacob Jones, seven generations of righteous men who were faithful and worthy to serve as family historian and spiritual leader. Beginning with Alma Johnson, a former sinner who converted to the truth, we can trace eight generations down to Ammaron, each man serving not only as record keeper but also as a shining example of righteousness and faithfulness in times of trial and great wickedness.
Think of Alma Johnson Jr. who, despite being thrown into prison and being forced to watch the violent martyrdom of innocent women and children, confidently and powerfully bore testimony to those that would have his life. Think of General Helaman Johnson, captain of the 2000 strippling warriors, whose faith inspired that of 2000 others to the preservation of their very lives. Think of Nephi Johnson who was so trusted by our Heavenly Father that he was given the sealing power, that whatsoever he said would be bound—or carried out—in both heaven and earth. Think of Nephi Johnson Jr. who heard the voice of the Savior on the night before His wondrous birth in the Holy Land, “Lift up your head and be of good cheer; for behold, the time is at hand, and on the morrow come I into the world, to show unto the world that I will fulfil all things which I have made known unto the children of men from the foundation of the world, and to do the will, both of the Father and of the Son.”
So where are the black sheep of the Johnson family? Honestly, there probably were a few bad apples among that family every few generations. In fact, we know that Alma Johnson Jr. had a wayward son of his own. His son Corianton got himself into some moral trouble with a girl and found himself on the long and difficult road to repentance and forgiveness. But we can read the priceless counsel, full of love and encouragement, hope and forgiveness, shared by a loving father to a struggling son. And in those words, we find the understanding and compassion that is so greatly enhanced and accented coming from a man who himself had traversed that same road to repentance. That story is such a wonderful example of the love and faith that so strongly forged the generational links of the Johnson family, one of the most faithful and strong family chains in the whole of the Book of Mormon.
So I’ve now had the opportunity to unravel both the family tree of Ray Stevens and that of Nephi Jones. There may yet be hope for me as a family history consultant. But let me tell you one family line that remains tangled beyond repair to me. This was the Brown family, whose entire family history of a thousand years was compiled into 15 short chapters of the Book of Ether in the Book of Mormon. The Brown family’s history begins much like that of Father Lehi Jones, as a righteous family is inspired to flee a wicked populace and to journey to a land of promise. The first keeper of their records, a man who is not even identified by name beyond being known as the Brother of Jared Brown, was so completely full of faith in Christ that he could not be kept within the veil and was able to see his Lord and Master. Of this brother, Christ exclaimed, “Never has man come before me with such exceeding faith as thou hast!” With this kind of faith surrounding the Brown family patriarch, you might expect great and wondrous things from the generational chain of his posterity. However, we find a family line of rulers and usurpers, of conspirators and assassins, and of men after the order of Master Mahan who loved Satan more than God.
We also find men of righteousness who followed the examples of their family patriarchs, Jared Brown and his brother. But the secret murders and conspiracies and unrighteous dominion of wicked kings makes in nigh impossible to map out the Brown family tree without getting horribly scratched and cut up by all of the bristles, thorns, and briars to be found.Now compare the Browns to the Johnsons. What was different? I don’t think we can pinpoint one single quality or circumstance that differentiates these two family chains. I think what we will find is small differences at each union of the individual links of these two chains. In the Brown family, we might not find a father Alma pleading in prayer for divine intervention for his wayward son Alma Jr. We might not find a father Alma Jr. pouring out his heart and soul in testimony to a struggling son of his own. We might not find a father Helaman lovingly counseling his sons to look to their namesakes and their ancestors as examples of how they should conduct their lives. We will ultimately find that there is no magical spell that transformed the entire family chain into a strong, unbreakable one. The chain was not forged of mithril, or some other precious, unbreakable ore. Rather, we will find that each union of links was carefully and lovingly forged as a father teaches through example and a son respectfully listens and follows.
Now my own family is not quite on par with the Joneses, the Johnsons, or the Williams. But we certainly don’t struggle quite as much as the Browns. In the spirit of Father’s Day, I wanted to take a moment to record for my own posterity a tribute and expression of gratitude for the link that my father has forged and is continuing to forge for me.
Just before his death, Father Lehi Jones took aside each of his sons to share counsel and blessings unique to each. Father Lehi pled with his sons, “Arise from the dust, my sons, and be men, and be determined in one mind and in one heart, united in all things.”
I love that exhortation to be men. As a young boy in the primary, I looked up to the teenagers of the Aaronic Priesthood who blessed and passed the sacrament each Sunday and wanted to be just like them. When I was their age, I looked up to those young men leaving for full-time missions and wanted to be just like them. When I was getting ready to board a plane on my way to Estonia, I looked up to my older brother, who had just returned from a mission of his own, and wanted to be just like him. When I got off a plane two years later, I saw my dad, a wonderful example of a worthy and a strong man, and realized that more than anyone else, I wanted to be just like him. Inspired by Lehi’s counsel to his sons, I wanted to be a man of righteousness, and I knew whose example and counsel I should follow. What I didn’t fully realize at the time was that my father had already been teaching me how to become a man for the past twenty-one years. And he will continue to teach me through word and example for the next twenty-one years and beyond as I endeavor to more fully become a man of God. And so, a few thoughts about my father, entitled Becoming a Man.
*****
Growing up, I learned many important lessons from my dad. My dad taught me to be flexible. I mean this literally and not figuratively. In P.E. class as a boy, despite my best efforts I could never sit and reach past my toes. Yet, under the threat of a damp dishtowel, Dad could get me to bend over and touch my toes, as I hoped for one less whack should I bend far enough. My dad would also help me with my flexibility by grabbing my finger by the tip and the second knuckle and squeezing. This always seemed to happen when I was making an irritation of myself, but I know that my dad was only helping me flex and bend my fingers so as to be a better violinist.
Among the many chores that I engaged in as a boy was the task of loading the dishwasher. My dad would stand alongside me and coach me in the finer intricacies of cramming just one more plate, cup, or bowl into the already-overloaded machine. This was a fine-tuned art that Dad possessed and was determined to pass along to me. Whenever I tried to pawn the job off on another sibling, Dad would say, “But Mike, you need more practice.” I would swear vehemently that I was already an expert in the art, and Dad would argue, “Then we could certainly use an expert to make sure the job’s done right.” Suddenly I would feel a wave of humility pass over me and in answer to my claims of inability, he would add, “Then you need more practice.” To this day, I’m not certain whether the greater lesson came from learning to load a dishwasher or from realizing that, regardless of what I said, when pitted against my father, I could not win. Perhaps the most important lessons came from the many conversations that took place between father and son as one rinsed and the other loaded and both grew a little closer through the bonding that can only occur through soapy hands and serving hearts.
Dad was my academic mentor. When school let out each summer, Dad would buy me a math workbook at the grade level I would be advancing to in the fall. He would then sit beside me and work the more advanced problems, encouraging me to excel above and beyond what I learned in the classroom. This encouragement in my math studies led in large part to my interest in computers and engineering. Dad took an active interest in my grades. With a healthy dose of BYU athletic brainwashing, I was dead-set on going to college at BYU. Dad adamantly claimed that with today’s academic standards he would not have been admitted to BYU 25 years ago. So performing well in my classes was a big deal. When I received my first ever A minus in 10th grade trigonometry, I retreated to my bedroom and cried all afternoon. Even as a 16-year old, I was terrified of how my dad would react to the news. I had done my best to defend my exam answer that would have pushed me up to the A. My pleadings had been in vain. When Dad came home that night, he knew something was wrong. He took me aside and gently coaxed the news out of me. He then told me how proud he was of me and my academic efforts and how pleased he was with my growing talents in music and other areas of my life. He gave me a hug, told me to move on with my life, and made me promise to give that math teacher no reason to doubt my qualification for an A next term.
Along with his academic encouragement, Dad made a very enticing promise to me at an early age. He promised me that if I received a scholarship to BYU, he would pay for me to attend every single BYU sporting event that I wanted. When I got to BYU several years later, having earned the prerequisite scholarship, Dad ended up writing a check for $55 to cover the cost of an All-Sports pass which would grant me access to every single BYU sporting event that year. I think a part of me felt a little cheated. My academic achievement was surely worth more than $55. But had I known that Dad’s promised prize would cost so little, I still would have earned it, just to make my dad proud. And in the long run, the prize wasn’t really an All-Sports pass but something much more lasting and beneficial to my future. Dad taught me how to study, how to learn, and how to excel in anything I set my mind and my heart to.
At a young age, I learned the principle of free agency from my father. Now, this is not the same principle typically taught in Sunday School. Having raised me to be a huge BYU sports fan, Dad told me about one of my basketball heroes: Mark Durrant. Now Mark, like me, came from a large family. His older brother, Devin, had been a star at BYU years earlier. Their father, George Durrant, had coached them as boys to prepare to play basketball at BYU and to also be a part of a very different team for 2 years. As a former mission president, George taught his sons the value of missionary work. He counseled them to be “Free Agents” when their time to serve came. This meant “no girls” for two years. Both served honorable missions as free agents and were able to sign contracts later in life as basketball stars, as worthy husbands, and loving fathers. Borrowing this title from Brother Durrant, my dad raised me to be a free agent. The standard was, “one date, per girl, before the mission”. There were a few times I was sorely tempted to skirt around the standard, but I held true and went on my mission without any romantic attachments. This guideline also helped me in other ways. Without a girlfriend to regularly wine and dine, and with my father’s emphasis on thriftiness and savings, I was able to set aside the vast majority of my earnings from summer jobs and a paper route into a mission fund. I had the honor of paying for a large part of my mission. I believe this also helped me to better value my time in God’s army and to serve more faithfully. The only downside to free agency came as a returned missionary at BYU. Because of the “one date” rule, a second date with any girl was a BIG deal. To me, it seemed like the courtship pattern was a first date, a second date, and then a ring. There were several girls who didn’t get that second date with me because of this, including my future wife. Luckily, she gave me a second chance a year later, and we went on that second date, which ended up being just one of many, many more.
Of the lessons I’ve learned from my dad, perhaps the one I value the most is this: I know that my father has a testimony of his savior, Jesus Christ. My father knows the power of the Atonement and has raised me to be blessed by this same knowledge. The Atonement of Jesus Christ allows families to be together forever and enables us to overcome our weaknesses and shortcomings to reach our full potential. When my little sister tragically passed away in an accident, my father was a huge comfort to me. When I was alone with him, Dad told me that he personally felt three main reasons that he might be feeling sorrow at her passing. He said, first, that we could feel sorrow because we would never see little Amy again. Of course, he said resolutely, this simply is not true. Death is not the end because of the Atonement of Christ. We will live again, and we will be able to see Amy again through our faithfulness. Second, my father said we might feel pain and sorrow at the way in which she left us. Dad then told me that he sincerely felt that a kind and merciful Heavenly Father had made Amy’s passing sweet, despite the painful and tragic accident. Finally, Dad told me that we could and likely would feel sorrow because of the time we would have to spend apart from our angelic little Amy. But, even then, we have the choice to exercise our agency in such a way as to make both her and our elder brother proud. My father has taught me through example how to use the enabling power of the Atonement to overcome my weaknesses to be a better me. As a father, a mentor, and a friend, Dad has sat beside me through both difficult times and joyful ones. I have never doubted my father’s testimony of the truth and I will always cherish this legacy that he has passed along to me.
When I was a freshman at BYU, President Gordon B. Hinckley told me and 30,000 other students, “Never permit yourself to become a weak link in the chain of your generations. It is so important that we pass on without a blemish our inheritance of body and brain and, if you please, faith and virtue untarnished to the generations who will come after us. You young men and you young women, most of you will marry and have children. Your children will have children, as will the children who come after them. Life is a great chain of generations that we in the Church believe must be linked together. I fear there will be some broken links. Do not let yourself become such, I pray.” I look at my father today and can clearly say that he is not a broken link. He has passed on an unblemished inheritance of body, brain, faith, and virtue to me. Simply put, my dad has taught me how to be a man, and for this I say, “Dad, thank you.”
Among the many chores that I engaged in as a boy was the task of loading the dishwasher. My dad would stand alongside me and coach me in the finer intricacies of cramming just one more plate, cup, or bowl into the already-overloaded machine. This was a fine-tuned art that Dad possessed and was determined to pass along to me. Whenever I tried to pawn the job off on another sibling, Dad would say, “But Mike, you need more practice.” I would swear vehemently that I was already an expert in the art, and Dad would argue, “Then we could certainly use an expert to make sure the job’s done right.” Suddenly I would feel a wave of humility pass over me and in answer to my claims of inability, he would add, “Then you need more practice.” To this day, I’m not certain whether the greater lesson came from learning to load a dishwasher or from realizing that, regardless of what I said, when pitted against my father, I could not win. Perhaps the most important lessons came from the many conversations that took place between father and son as one rinsed and the other loaded and both grew a little closer through the bonding that can only occur through soapy hands and serving hearts.
Dad was my academic mentor. When school let out each summer, Dad would buy me a math workbook at the grade level I would be advancing to in the fall. He would then sit beside me and work the more advanced problems, encouraging me to excel above and beyond what I learned in the classroom. This encouragement in my math studies led in large part to my interest in computers and engineering. Dad took an active interest in my grades. With a healthy dose of BYU athletic brainwashing, I was dead-set on going to college at BYU. Dad adamantly claimed that with today’s academic standards he would not have been admitted to BYU 25 years ago. So performing well in my classes was a big deal. When I received my first ever A minus in 10th grade trigonometry, I retreated to my bedroom and cried all afternoon. Even as a 16-year old, I was terrified of how my dad would react to the news. I had done my best to defend my exam answer that would have pushed me up to the A. My pleadings had been in vain. When Dad came home that night, he knew something was wrong. He took me aside and gently coaxed the news out of me. He then told me how proud he was of me and my academic efforts and how pleased he was with my growing talents in music and other areas of my life. He gave me a hug, told me to move on with my life, and made me promise to give that math teacher no reason to doubt my qualification for an A next term.Along with his academic encouragement, Dad made a very enticing promise to me at an early age. He promised me that if I received a scholarship to BYU, he would pay for me to attend every single BYU sporting event that I wanted. When I got to BYU several years later, having earned the prerequisite scholarship, Dad ended up writing a check for $55 to cover the cost of an All-Sports pass which would grant me access to every single BYU sporting event that year. I think a part of me felt a little cheated. My academic achievement was surely worth more than $55. But had I known that Dad’s promised prize would cost so little, I still would have earned it, just to make my dad proud. And in the long run, the prize wasn’t really an All-Sports pass but something much more lasting and beneficial to my future. Dad taught me how to study, how to learn, and how to excel in anything I set my mind and my heart to.
At a young age, I learned the principle of free agency from my father. Now, this is not the same principle typically taught in Sunday School. Having raised me to be a huge BYU sports fan, Dad told me about one of my basketball heroes: Mark Durrant. Now Mark, like me, came from a large family. His older brother, Devin, had been a star at BYU years earlier. Their father, George Durrant, had coached them as boys to prepare to play basketball at BYU and to also be a part of a very different team for 2 years. As a former mission president, George taught his sons the value of missionary work. He counseled them to be “Free Agents” when their time to serve came. This meant “no girls” for two years. Both served honorable missions as free agents and were able to sign contracts later in life as basketball stars, as worthy husbands, and loving fathers. Borrowing this title from Brother Durrant, my dad raised me to be a free agent. The standard was, “one date, per girl, before the mission”. There were a few times I was sorely tempted to skirt around the standard, but I held true and went on my mission without any romantic attachments. This guideline also helped me in other ways. Without a girlfriend to regularly wine and dine, and with my father’s emphasis on thriftiness and savings, I was able to set aside the vast majority of my earnings from summer jobs and a paper route into a mission fund. I had the honor of paying for a large part of my mission. I believe this also helped me to better value my time in God’s army and to serve more faithfully. The only downside to free agency came as a returned missionary at BYU. Because of the “one date” rule, a second date with any girl was a BIG deal. To me, it seemed like the courtship pattern was a first date, a second date, and then a ring. There were several girls who didn’t get that second date with me because of this, including my future wife. Luckily, she gave me a second chance a year later, and we went on that second date, which ended up being just one of many, many more.
Of the lessons I’ve learned from my dad, perhaps the one I value the most is this: I know that my father has a testimony of his savior, Jesus Christ. My father knows the power of the Atonement and has raised me to be blessed by this same knowledge. The Atonement of Jesus Christ allows families to be together forever and enables us to overcome our weaknesses and shortcomings to reach our full potential. When my little sister tragically passed away in an accident, my father was a huge comfort to me. When I was alone with him, Dad told me that he personally felt three main reasons that he might be feeling sorrow at her passing. He said, first, that we could feel sorrow because we would never see little Amy again. Of course, he said resolutely, this simply is not true. Death is not the end because of the Atonement of Christ. We will live again, and we will be able to see Amy again through our faithfulness. Second, my father said we might feel pain and sorrow at the way in which she left us. Dad then told me that he sincerely felt that a kind and merciful Heavenly Father had made Amy’s passing sweet, despite the painful and tragic accident. Finally, Dad told me that we could and likely would feel sorrow because of the time we would have to spend apart from our angelic little Amy. But, even then, we have the choice to exercise our agency in such a way as to make both her and our elder brother proud. My father has taught me through example how to use the enabling power of the Atonement to overcome my weaknesses to be a better me. As a father, a mentor, and a friend, Dad has sat beside me through both difficult times and joyful ones. I have never doubted my father’s testimony of the truth and I will always cherish this legacy that he has passed along to me.When I was a freshman at BYU, President Gordon B. Hinckley told me and 30,000 other students, “Never permit yourself to become a weak link in the chain of your generations. It is so important that we pass on without a blemish our inheritance of body and brain and, if you please, faith and virtue untarnished to the generations who will come after us. You young men and you young women, most of you will marry and have children. Your children will have children, as will the children who come after them. Life is a great chain of generations that we in the Church believe must be linked together. I fear there will be some broken links. Do not let yourself become such, I pray.” I look at my father today and can clearly say that he is not a broken link. He has passed on an unblemished inheritance of body, brain, faith, and virtue to me. Simply put, my dad has taught me how to be a man, and for this I say, “Dad, thank you.”
