The Weight of a Touch: Love's Reckoning in a Divided World

The iron rod, as Elder Maxwell so eloquently taught, is not merely a path; it is a crucible. It refines, it burns away impurities, and it reveals the true nature of our hearts. Lately, the noise of the world has made it difficult to hear the still, small voice, to discern the subtle shifts of the Spirit. We find ourselves caught in the currents of judgment, readily labeling and dismissing those who differ from us, clinging to the illusion of purity while neglecting the foundational commandment to love our neighbor as ourselves (Matthew 22:39). Sister Matthews’ address, a balm to the soul, serves as a potent reminder of the Christ-like love we are called to embody.

Her recounting of Christ's interactions – with the woman afflicted with an issue of blood, the woman who washed his feet, his rebuke of the Pharisees, and his conversation with the Samaritan woman – isn't merely historical anecdote. It’s a mirror reflecting the uncomfortable truth of our own biases. Each encounter defied societal norms, each act of acceptance challenged the rigid structures of religious and cultural prejudice. Consider the Pharisees’ outrage at Christ’s fellowship with a “publican,” a man representing not just a disreputable profession, but also political and national divisions. Christ’s response? “Go and learn what that meaneth: Be merciful unto all men” (D&C 47:22). A call to mercy, not condemnation.

We pride ourselves on our discernment, our ability to spot hypocrisy and error. But how often do our efforts at discernment become a justification for distancing ourselves from those who are struggling, who are different, who don't conform to our expectations? The woman at the well, ostracized for her circumstances, found solace and instruction from the very source of grace. Her story, and the others Sister Matthews highlights, underscore a profound truth: the greatest need often resides in the places we least expect, and the most powerful witness comes from those we deem least worthy.

The challenge isn’t merely to *avoid* judgment, but to actively cultivate a spirit of compassion and understanding. It requires a conscious effort to see beyond the labels, to recognize the inherent worth of every individual, regardless of their past, their present, or their perceived failings. This is not a passive sentiment; it's a demanding work. It requires us to confront our own prejudices, to examine the motives behind our judgments, and to humble ourselves before the Lord, seeking His guidance and strength. The Lord’s admonition in Isaiah 58:7 rings in our ears: “To share thy bread with the hungry, and to cover the naked with thy clothes, and to give thy neighbor [literally, thy friend] bread when he is needy.”

The Restoration brought forth a renewed focus on covenants, on temple ordinances, on the power of the priesthood. These are not mere rituals; they are pathways to transformation, to becoming more like our Savior. As we partake of these blessings, may we also strive to embody the love and compassion that characterized His ministry. May we be willing to extend a hand, offer a word of encouragement, and see the divine potential in every soul we encounter. Let us remember that our judgments are fleeting, but God’s love endures forever (1 Peter 5:7).

Consider this: When have you allowed personal biases to hinder your ability to show love and compassion? What steps can you take, guided by the Spirit, to cultivate a more Christ-like heart?