Bishop Wheelwright

July 5, 2010

We recognize that there are many of you here today that are not of our faith. To you we say, “Welcome! We are glad you are here. We hope you feel comfortable. From the speakers today, intertwined with our messages of love for Aaron, you will likely hear some of our doctrine. If you have questions about anything you hear, or if there is something that you do not understand, please seek me out after the service. Or, after a period of time, ask the Stones family. Or seek out some of our missionaries whom you may see in their white shirts and ties going two by two. We will be happy to answer your questions and explain our beliefs.

I did not have the opportunity of knowing Aaron. I have no personal stories or anecdotes to share. My assignment in this service is somewhat different than that of the previous speakers. My role is to briefly discuss some topics that may cause us to exclaim, as expressed in the words of one of our beloved hymns, “My God, how great Thou art!”

We have come here today to pay final tribute to a man who loved music and art who loved laughter and humor, a man who loved and is loved by his entire family.

Death came as an intruder last week. We weren’t ready. We feel sorrow that his life ended. And so, today we mourn. Elder Russell M. Nelson said, “Mourning is one of the purest expressions of deep love. It is a perfectly natural response -- in complete accord with the divine commandment (articulated in the Doctrine and Covenants), “Thou shalt live together in love, insomuch that thou shalt weep for the loss of them that die.” (D&C 42:45) The only way to take sorrow out of death is to take love out of life.” [The Gateway We Call Death, p. 22-23]

Though Aaron is not with us physically, we love him just as much today as we did a week ago, or a decade ago, or the day he was born. A family’s love knows no bounds.

Perhaps we may find some comfort in what is called “The parable of the train ride.” Imagine for a moment that you are to take a train ride across the country. The trip will take many days. In order to help the time pass, you strike up a conversation with the person seated next to you. You find that you have much in common and as you share stories throughout the day, you begin to develop a closeness with your new-found friend. At the end of the day, you agree to meet again the following day, and then you each retire to your sleeping cars.
The next day, you rejoin your friend and spend the day relating to each other and experiencing the journey together. Your rapport grows stronger and you find yourself feeling a bit sorry that the day passes so quickly. Once again you agree to meet the following day. You look forward to continuing your conversation.
In the morning, you return to your seat and wait, but your friend does not join you. Someone tells you that he left the train during the night. You wonder, “Why did he get off the train, and where did he go? We had so much more to say.” You have no idea where he is or how to contact him. You find yourself feeling sadness and frustration, and perhaps even some bitterness.
Just then, the porter comes down the aisle and gives you a message. The note tells you where your friend has gone and gives you a phone number so that you may contact him when you arrive at your destination. That simple message from the porter eases your frustration and brings a feeling of peace and understanding.

Life is much like this train ride. We are all on the train together. Some leave the train sooner than we expect. But the sorrow we feel with the loss of a loved one can in some measure be lessened by the knowledge of where he has gone and that we can speak with him again when we arrive at our destination. [Paraphrased from The Birth That We Call Death, p. 31 – 33]

Aaron’s sudden passing may bring some questions into our hearts. May we take a few moments to consider a few of these questions to see if we can develop a greater understanding.

Could the outcome have been different?
When my wife’s brother passed away about six weeks ago at the age of 42, some of those closest to him wondered if they could have done anything differently. If they had recognized his symptoms earlier, if they had taken him to the doctor sooner, could his death have been prevented?

Perhaps some of you have similar questions today. “Is there something I could have done to prevent this loss?

May I gently suggest that to such questions, there are no answers. Such “what-if” questions are counterproductive and only serve as heavy weights which burden the soul. We can . . . we must . . . let these questions go.

Richard M. Eyre wrote, “When death occurs unexpectedly, we can become discouraged and bitter. We know that part of life’s test is to overcome discouragement and bitterness. We know the importance of sometimes forcing a smile and holding our head erect, even as the tears roll down our cheeks. We know that Christ endured the ultimate pain and sorrow without ever exhibiting bitterness and discouragement, and we know that our eternal goal is to be like Him.” [The Birth We Call Death, 1976, p. 71]

Where will we end up after this life?
We know that all men are judged according to their works. But do we fully understand what that means?

We must understand that no one, no one has the ability or the authority to determine Aaron’s or anyone’s reward other than the Savior Himself.

Elder Bruce R. McConkie wrote, “Judgement is the Lord’s. He knows the thoughts, intents, and abilities of men, and He, in His infinite wisdom will make things right in due course.” [Mormon Doctrine, 2nd ed, 1966, p. 771]

Elder M. Russell Ballard stated, “Only the Lord [can] administer fair judgment. He alone has all the facts, and only He [knows] the intent of the heart. [Ensign, October 1987.]

And finally, the Prophet Joseph Smith taught, “While one portion of the human race is judging and condemning the other without mercy, the Great Parent of the universe looks upon the whole of the human family with a fatherly care and paternal regard. [Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, sel. Joseph Fielding Smith, Deseret Book Company, Salt Lake City, 1976, p. 218]

The reality of the resurrection.
May I conclude by testifying of the reality of the resurrection. Today, it is difficult to say goodbye to Aaron. We wish things could be different. But, whether death comes early or late in life, it is always difficult to say goodbye to a loved one.

The truth is that “the only length of life that seems to satisfy the longings of the human heart is life everlasting.” [The Gateway We Call Death, p. 55] This great blessing was made possible by the sacrifice of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Job asked the question, “If a man die, shall he live again?” (Job 14:14) The answer is a resounding, “Yes!” Through the gift of the resurrection, we know that though our separation from Aaron is painful, it will be followed by a glorious reunion at a future day.

The reality of the resurrection was clearly and cleverly expressed by the statesman, Benjamin Franklin, who wrote his own epitaph. Said he, “The body of Benjamin Franklin (like the cover of an old book, its contents torn out, and stript of its lettering and gilding) lies here. Yet the work itself shall not be lost, for it will (as he believed) appear once more, in a more beautiful edition, corrected and amended by the Author.” [The Birth That We Call Death, p. 65]

I testify that Aaron Lawrence Stones will appear once more in a new and more beautiful edition, corrected and amended by the Author, the Father of us all.

In the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.