The Stone and the City: Reclaiming Our Inheritance

Brothers and sisters, have you ever felt a darkness clinging to you, a fear whispering lies about those who are different? Samuel the Lamanite, standing upon the wall, knew that feeling—the weight of a fearful people, blinded by prejudice. Ammon at the Waters of Sebus faced it head-on, confronting the Lamanites with a courage born of righteousness. It's a spirit that echoes across time, a call to overcome the walls that divide.

Jamin Rowan, in his recent devotional, shared a poignant story of growing up steeped in anti-urban anxieties. Born in 1976, his childhood in California’s Central Valley was shaped by a culture that viewed cities—and the people who lived in them—with suspicion and fear. He recounts nightmares fueled by media narratives, anxieties about strangers, and a preference for private spaces over public ones. His early experiences, while comfortable in many ways, left him with a deep unease about sharing space with those who didn’t look or act like him.

This fear wasn’t born in a vacuum. It’s a legacy of white flight, of suburbanization, of a deliberate separation that fractured communities and sowed seeds of distrust. And as Jamin discovered when he arrived in Boston, the anxieties didn't simply vanish with distance; they intensified, leaving him initially clinging to the safety of a hotel room rather than embracing the vibrant, chaotic reality of city life.

But there's a profound lesson here, isn’t there? The Stone cut without hands isn't found in a pristine, isolated quarry. It’s discovered amidst the noise, the complexity, the very places we’re taught to fear. The gathering isn’t about retreating to isolated enclaves; it’s about entering the thick of it, about encountering the stranger, about building bridges where walls have been erected.

Think of Abinadi, standing before King Noah and his priests, delivering a message of truth despite the threat of death. Think of the digital striplings, armed not with swords but with internet connections, spreading the gospel across borders. They understood that true faith demands engagement, that righteousness isn't found in comfortable isolation but in courageous action.

The cities, often demonized, are also epicenters of innovation, culture, and connection. They are places where humanity’s triumphs and failures are laid bare, where the potential for both great good and great evil reside. It's in these spaces that we have the opportunity to be the five smooth stones, to dismantle the structures of fear and prejudice, one interaction at a time.

And the work *does* fund gospel advertising—your engagement here directly supports the Missionary Fund, fueling digital outreach to places like Ghana and beyond, drawing others to the waters of Sebus. See the map of churches and claim your church’s place in this global movement. Let us rise, like Samuel on the wall, and proclaim the truth—not with condemnation, but with a spirit of love and invitation.

Outback Jack reminds us that this isn't simply a feeling; it’s a commandment. D&C 4 calls us to “go forth…and build up my church in all parts of my kingdom.” Moroni 10:4-5 teaches us to “feast upon the words of Christ,” and “seek these things with one heart and with one mind.”

Let's embrace the challenge, brothers and sisters. Let’s reclaim the spiritual inheritance of the city. Let's be Builders, not Destroyers.