Apostolic
I miss Richard G. Scott.
He's a former apostle to the LDS Church who passed away years ago, for those who don't know. He was also a profoundly loving human being. He was part of the first cohort of apostles when I joined the Church as a teenager.
He was also the first person I ever encountered, in any church setting, who told me that being a victim of childhood sexual abuse wasn't my fault, that there was nothing I needed to repent for.
He was so gentle and kind, loving and peaceful. There are people who have to choose deliberately to do those things. Then there are people who just exude that state of being wherever they are. He was like that. He genuinely loved people, and you felt seen and cared for in his presence.
I met him once in Houston, Texas. I was there visiting a friend over Christmas break. We went to the Houston Temple to do baptisms, and word passed all through the temple that he was there. He was visiting his family who lived in the area. When he found out we were in the temple, he came to say hello to each of us.
I almost missed it because I was in the font at the time. But he came to say hello to me too, dripping and sopping wet. He shook my hand and thanked me for being in the temple. But it wasn't just that. You had to be there and see the love in his face, the regard he had for me in that moment. He was thanking me for everything I'd had to do, everything it has cost me, to be in the temple that day.
I was seen in a way that I can only call apostolic. It's the experience I had as a young person that truly defined what that word means to me. Elder Scott was the vessel of divine love and appreciation I needed to feel in that moment. In my own way, I touched the hem of the Savior's robes that day through that interaction.
I tell you that story to tell you what I realized this morning, as I was being kneaded and wuzzled by a ten pound cat.
I haven't seen or felt that kind of regard from any of this current cohort of church leadership for a very long time. I don't hear, see, or feel that kind of love when they speak. It was a profound change in the Nelson tenure that I attribute to his demeanor. He was a problem solver. His messages were defined by correction and instruction, not affection. Oaks is very similar in that way. He is a stern high achiever who identifies so entirely with the law, he doesn't know how to separate himself from that persona to be perceived as loving. I feel like I've been watching him discover the benefits of divine mercy in real time for well over a decade.
Watching general conference has felt, for a very long time, like hearing two sides of an argument going on. They're not talking to me. They're talking to each other and to the leadership in the room, trying to get people on board with catch phrases, projects, and initiatives they have going on. It has a corporate sensation to it that feels controlled and crafted, polished and professional.
I can tell they love each other through all of this. But I haven't felt that love and affection for me as a church member, in a very long time.
Concern? Sure. But not love. They're not the same thing. It's like when you're a teenager and your parents start losing their minds about trying to control everything you're doing. And they are so worried about you, and their worry becomes the defining characteristics of your relationship with them, and they start overthinking everything they're doing, when all they had to do was love you. A hug and a forehead kiss was all you really needed, but for some reason, that's the one thing that never crossed their minds.
Someone needs to take up the mantle of giving the verbal hugs and forehead kisses. The unearned, uncomplicated love of someone with no real agenda except that.
That position has been open since Elder Scott died and it shows.
