The Concept of Closeness

Recently, after attending the Sunday session of a wonderful Stake Conference, I came home to grill some ribs.  Unfortunately, the grill I had been using was out of propane and, because it was a Sunday, I chose not to go to the store.  Although I was out of fuel, I had a backup plan.

My back up plan was to build and use a little metal grill I had purchased on clearance the year before.   Instead of using propane, this new grill required charcoal.

After assembling the dozens of pieces to the new grill, I noticed that the bag of charcoal I had purchased required lighter fluid.  But since I had never owned a charcoal grill before, I had foolishly failed to purchase this important ingredient.

I sent my children thru the neighborhood in search of lighter fuel.  Most of my neighbors use gas grills and none of them had any lighter fluid.  One neighbor found some self-starting briquettes and let me take the bag. 

Even after all the work of building the grill, preparing the ribs, searching for lighter fluid, and acquiring the charcoal, and dozens of attempts to light the briquettes, I hopeless realized I was doing something wrong because the fire wouldn’t start.

We eventually gave up and just used the broiler in the oven to cook the meat, but I was determined to figure out the grill problem and why I couldn’t get it to work.

The very next day I went to the store to buy lighter fluid and a special cylinder to stack the briquettes in.  I had watched my brother in law use a similar device when starting and cooking on his grill.  After making my purchases I rushed home and began the task of preparing the grill.

I filled the cylinder with a good supply of charcoal and I poured the necessary lighter fluid on the coals.  I was excited to see the flames torch the well soaked briquettes and I was even happier to see the charcoal begin to light.

Although I was successful in starting the fire, I made the mistake of pouring out the briquettes too early and I didn’t keep the coals close enough together when I spread them out.  Again, for the second time in two attempts, I failed in lighting the grill.  The fire just went out.

I learned something about charcoal over that two day period. I call it the Concept of Closeness.

Clearly I didn’t understand the chemistry required to build a charcoal fire.  I had built many fires in Ireland while serving a mission so I should have understood the similarities of charcoal to coal or peat.  In Ireland we would use hot coals from the previous stove fire, gather coal from the coal bin the night before, stack the new coals on the old hot coals, and patiently wait until morning for a hot stove.  By morning all the new coals would be red hot and producing an intense heat.  The heat would not only heat the flat, but heat the bath water as well.

It is practically impossible, even with a large dousing of lighter fluid, to light an individual piece of charcoal or coal. Charcoal fires require multiple briquettes. The biggest reason that the charcoal in my little black metal grill did not light the first time was because the briquettes were not stacked close enough to each other.  The science of a charcoal fire is that combustion occurs because of the closeness of the bricks to one another and the air that flows between them after the match is lit.  Stacking the briquettes in a pyramid shape would have allowed the necessary reaction to occur.

However, the reason the fire went out the second time wasn’t because the briquettes weren’t close enough together to light them or to stay lit.  The tool I had purchased to keep the coals close was very effective in starting the charcoal.  The problem was I rushed the process. I just didn’t give them enough time together to really get hot.  And, even when I thought they were hot enough, I turned them too early and did not keep them close enough together once I thought they had fully ignited.

Think of each briquette as a gospel principle.  Individually they are real, and sound, and valuable.  But the collective power isn’t effective unless they are co-mingled and interlaced.  The collective understanding of all gospel principles, together in their entirety,  is powerful and creates the light and truth necessary to grow brighter and brighter like the perfect day.

Like gathering wood for a fire, we gather gospel principles one at a time, here a little there a little.  We learn line upon line and precept upon precept.  Held closely together with enough time for understanding to be developed, these principles expand and the eyes of our understanding open with them.  As we exercise faith and patience waiting, if you will, for “the tree to bring forth the fruit,” the knowledge and understanding grows “an hundred fold”

    

Like the body weight we might need to lose or the muscles we are trying to gain, or the debt we are trying to eliminate, most things change slowly and incrementally over a period of time.  Some things, like growing pumpkins, can’t be rushed.  We must understand the science behind it and patiently wait for the process.

Now think of the coals again with regards to wards, neighborhoods, and communities.  The law of consecration is based on the oneness of a people.  Each individual’s heart is like one charcoal briquette.  The synergy of consecration creates a more powerful community of combined force than ever could be achieved by the individual.  

But it starts in the heart.  Each individual briquette must change. This requires a mighty change of heart.  Think of the charcoals again and a statement made by the Savior himself.  “If you are not one, you are not mine.” 

Like the coals, when the hearts of the fathers  turn to the children and the hearts of the children turn to the fathers, the whole earth avoids a curse and the foundation of Zion is established.  When we are “of one heart and one mind, and dwell in righteousness,” we begin to reach an exalted level of closeness.  

Closeness starts with gospel principles and ends with strong families and communities. It is the path to “a more excellent way”