We've just returned from a trip with a member here to Karlštejn castle. Located about 30 km south east of Prague, it is the historic seat of the crown jewels of the kings of the Czech Republic, originally built by Charles IV. Charles IV was a holy roman emperor, and wielded great influence in Europe during the golden years of the Czech Republic. The castle itself is very majestic. Compact in design and situated on a set of cliffs high above the small town below, it had a double wall, an interior moat, and then the keep of the castle itself was so robust that, despite a number of sieges, no one could ever compromise the interior keep. These defense mechanisms were devised due to the precious contents of the deepest parts of the castle. Within the keep itself was the treasury of the Czech kings, including crown jewels the size of large eggs, all framed within a crown of solid gold, stored in a room furnished from floor to ceiling with semi-precious stones the size of dinner plates that are inset in walls paved with gold. It sounds gaudy, but it was the heart of Czech wealth in an age that's long since dimmed and passed into dusty history books. Today, the castle is open to the public with tours running on the hour, restaurants set up on the interior, and tourist shops to and from the castle grounds hawking goods for whatever price that sells. While some of the goods are unusual and interesting, most of them are fake, going so far as to imitate well established and even ancient brands of craftsmanship in design, make, and labeling. Most of these tourist items are of far inferior value and quality. Some crystal salesmen would go so far as to market their goods as "Jako krystal" or "Like Crystal", somehow thinking that comparing it to the real thing will increase the value of the goods in the eyes of their buyers. Very few who visit the castle ever take the short hike past the parking lot, beyond the horse-drawn carriage rides and luxury bed and breakfast's that have sprung up over the years. This hike isn't the most scenic - it's long, easy to get lost, and plows through tall grass, bushes, and muddy tracks. But, today, we took that hike.
In a place known as Priest's Hill, located conveniently behind Karlštejn, and backdropped with nothing but sky and forest, is a small grass clearing with a stone monument in the middle. It was here on July 24th, 1929, that Elder John A. Widstoe of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles stood and offered the dedicatory prayer for the Czech Republic. While the text of this prayer has been lost to history (Perhaps due to subsequent war and occupation), on February 6, 1990 Elder Russell M. Nelson stood on that same spot and offered a re-dedicatory prayer, the text of which has been kept since. Today, we read that prayer, offered a brief prayer of gratitude of our own, and enjoyed the atmosphere as a district. It was interesting seeing the missionaries and their reactions and faces during the overall experience. I think my favorite faces to see today were the younger missionaries, the ones that are going to be here to see what we will bring to the Czechs as a mission in the next six months, or year, or even two years. Before we left for this trip, I had the privilege of training a new Elder who had been delayed at the MTC and orienting him regarding temporal mission affairs. To think he'll be here to see so much! And so much to give!
It was a small gathering on top of Priest's Hill, but it was away from the low din of people and things. As we read the prayer out loud, we read how Elder Nelson mentions the birds and the oak trees and the hills, all of which were present today. Such an interesting juxtaposition between the two settings: One of a man made yet ancient structure of great import and meaning to ancient nobles and today's tourists. The other of a simple stone monument, the home of a Plaque upon which is inscribed "On this spot on the 24th of July, 1929 the Czechoslovak mission of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints was established". One full of treasures, the other humbly encrusted in moss from the passing years of exposure. One the keep of an Emperor, the other a memorial for another kind of King.
In my studies this week, I've considered the flood of experiences I've had as a missionary. It's amazing how easy it's been to remember so many tiny details that would otherwise be so easy to forget or misplace. While there are many lessons I've learned and I'll be returning with so much more than I left with, there is one thing that outshines the rest, and it's something I'm afraid I can't put into words very well. In the renowned rhetoric of Elder Maxwell, "We know more than we can tell." I suppose it best to say it plainly: I know He lives. He knows my name, and He knows each of us perfectly. To some that seems like a nice idea, but one that they don't understand or that it may not have much meaning. Indeed, I can see how it wouldn't if one didn't know Him very well. I, for one, left on my mission with an idea of the mission of the Savior and His role in my life. I felt good about it. But, one mission later, I'm starting to see how far this hike is going to take me. Fortunately, there are a few things that I know that can be relied on, even when you get lost on that trail or you're not sure where or how to get to where you want to go. Sometimes the luster of life is more enticing than the more important things. And, sometimes we succumb to what glitters and get distracted, spending our time (the only real currency we have) for "that which cannot satisfy". But, I've learned from experience and by faith that the path is to be navigated by principles which serve as tools to help us chart our course through life. Even on today's journey, the GPS built into my phone didn't work, and I couldn't expect much more than to rely on the guides that were ahead of us who had been to this hill before.
My study this week kept returning to the status of Jesus Christ as the Lord and King of us all, and our relationship to him in that regard. As His servant and representative to those living in this part of the world, it has been my honor and blessing to share what He has with those who will listen. They are few, but they are, and there is need. I've been very blessed to have worked with many on my mission, and to have seen the hard times too. The days and weeks that blend together when all you think you see is drizzle, slammed doors, stiff-arm hands, and yelling; those who would try to confuse you, those who would outright deny what you say, those who lack the commitment to enjoy simple blessings, or those with their own agenda who try to trap you; temptations and sickness, holes in shoes, getting lost. Then there are all the good things, the lives changed, hearts healed, miracles performed, angels who minister, truths received, light shared, homes rebuilt, service rendered, and laughter shared. I think it all weaves together into a fabric of feeling that we wear like our clothes. And despite the imperfections and the stains and spatters that get picked up by that fabric, I've learned that He is the One to whom we can give that tattered garment and, with a few tears and His mercy, he returns it to us refreshed and clean and spotless. Amazing to consider that He is the only King who would do something like clean my dirty laundry.
As we rode back from the castle and the hill site, we drove through rolling hills and Czech countryside, small brick homes with wood stoves and clotheslines, many of the people looking like they would out of an old picture book with a few anachronisms like satellite dishes and Mercedes farm trucks. Despite the differences, we really all are one in the end. In reading my journal from the beginning of my mission, it's clear that my motives were not right, not necessarily out of impurity, but from inexperience and an unclear vision of things as they really are. When the reality set in that a mission is "so hard", the language is "so hard", teaching is "so hard", supporting members is "so hard", finding is "so hard", and even making toast in the morning is "so hard", I think my perspective began to change. What started out as "my mission" turned into "the mission", a mission to try and reach out of myself more and doing the work for the sake of those around me. It's good to see the changes in the lives of those you are trying to serve. And, just like the fabric woven from threads of individual experiences, so too are those changes the simple things that come together to make something great. I worked more diligently and more intensely but with greater care and purpose than ever before, and I was equally yoked with what must have been the best companions in the world. It's nice being around so many missionaries that you've served with or around, or simply served, and how we all remember things that happened. In the end, all of what you could call "drudgery" began to form into what I could now see - I could see it! An image began to form out of all of those experiences. All of the little pieces of experience began to organize themselves and to "fly in formation", as it were. And the image was something I didn't expect - it was an image of all of God's children. I've learned on my mission that our efforts to serve never go wasted, although we may never actually see the difference. But there is merit it doing good for the sake of doing it, for laboring to build our fellow-men and to improve the lives of each we meet. I left wanting to change the world. I've come back being changed myself.
I hope you too can see the threads of this fabric that I see, and that you can see what I can see - that amidst the push and pull of life, our quiet efforts to do what is right and to push the cause of what is good forward, we become more like Him. In the end, "that when he shall appear we shall
be like him, for we shall see him as he is". I'm convinced that every mission is the best mission in the world. And that's because, to each recipient of the blessings of their mission, it is a gift from God because He makes of us what we barely fathom we could become ourselves.
I will never be grateful enough for this grand adventure, and He's bringing me home in two weeks. In the mean time, there's an office to train for a few days more, and then it will all end. But, as we all well know, it doesn't end, but just starts anew. And it seems to me that every beginning, no matter what stage in life, is always better than the first. Let's see where this new adventure called life takes us.
S láskou,
Starší Brent Anderson
