The church announced that they will no longer have a Saturday night session of General conference. This follows many changes over the last 15 years to the structure of general conference. First, the priesthood only session was broadcast so that anyone could see. Then, they alternated conferences between a priesthood session and one for women, which was odd because they still had annual woman’s conference but no annual conference specifically for men. They changed the age of attendance down to age 8. At some other time they changed age at which you received the priesthood to age 11. Then they just made it a general session. All of these changes surprised me.
Growing up, this was a tradition, and it was a special time and treat. I remember fondly gathering together with brothers, my father, and sometimes with grandfathers to attend this meeting together. Since you had to go in person, it got us to dress up and attend a church meeting on a Saturday night. Afterwards, we would go get a treat or dinner or ice cream and talk about it, first with ourselves, and then with my mother and sister as she came of age. It was a wholesome “boy’s night out” with a religious flavor that I enjoyed and miss.
Growing up, I believed that this was a way to separate the wheat from the chaff. Since you had to attend it live, unlike other sessions which you could watch online in some fashion, only those truly available and committed tended to attend. I found it interesting to note who came, who missed, who paid attention, and who was only there for the sake of appearances, and eventually I noticed that people came very late if the church offered ice cream afterwards. Clearly some came only to sup on milk and sugar and not on every word that preceedeth forth from the prophet’s mouth. I even got my maternal grandfather to go once after he lost mobility because I went with him and he wanted to make an effort for valiance one last time to support a grandson.
Growing up, I expected the Priesthood session to be a session where they would announce special things and, because it was not broadcast, only those who actually attended faithfully would know. So, I attended faithfully eager for the further light and knowledge and sharing of predilictions from the prophet that would only come to worthy priesthood holders. Boy was I wrong. Nothing noteworthy ever came down about gathering in Jackson county or selling all our stuff and getting cabins or special instructions for the faithful. IN fact, most of the time, the brethren would lecture us on how we needed to be better husbands and fathers, which didn’t sit or resonate well with me since I got divorced and have no children.
This week’s announcement killed forever my expectation that this was a special time for me, for men, for fathers and sons, for special instruction for priesthood holders from the brethren. Of course I should have seen this coming. When Dieter Uchtdorf came to Vegas a few years back for a regional meeting I attended because I was in a bishopric, his counsel could be distilled down to “Pray, use the handbook and follow your own personal revelation”. I wanted to ask, “Then why do we need you if that’s your direction?”
Although lots of things change, I expected the Church to be more of an anchor in the storm, and then I realized that the anchor is Christ. Does it really matter to whom the speakers address their thoughts if they are inspired by and talk of Him? Will I miss out on His will if I’m trying to hearken to His words through His servants? Will He cheat me out of something because I wasn’t there for Saturday Night live to hear it as it was delivered? If we talk about the sessions afterwards anyway, can we still get together and share a treat or a meal? It’s the end of an era, and I’m glad I got to experience and share it with older male family members. With the exception of my father, they’re all gone anyway, and since I have no posterity there’s no passing it on to my son.
I found a way to make it meaningful ips post facto. I simply go through each Monday night for “family” home evening and reread and reflect on one talk from the last conference. Generally speaking, there are about the same number of talks as there are between conference sessions, except for the fifth session. Now that there’s no fifth session on Saturday night, I can reread one each week and give it some study and go back to my new normal. And afterwards, I can share a treat or a meal with my new family, because my beagle Courage knows it’s Monday night, and he looks forward to everything except the part where I play the piano and sing. So, I have a new tradition, and the change fits it better anyway.
