What's the Measure of a Friend?

It has been a while since I posted something here. Folks have asked for something new, and while I would love to oblige more frequently, it is sometimes hard to determine what would be the most meaningful and beneficial to the largest number of people. And then, I tend to get long winded and bore folks to death as well.

So, this time, I promise will be succinct and to the point.

We all experience the feelings of not thinking we have any friends. We all feel like that odd pea in a bowl of sweet corn on the dinner table. We go about our lives as fellow Saints in the gospel often feeling we just have the occasional tangential brushing of elbows with our brothers and sisters in our respective ward.

Yesterday, my manager announced that our weekly staff meeting was canceled today due to his need to attend a funeral. I asked him if everything was okay, as I knew his father was not in the best of health. He said it was just a friend. Maybe it was a family friend from the social club he is the president of. Maybe it is a long time acquaintance. Maybe it was a close friend. I don't know, as it was not my place to press him on it.

Well, it got me thinking. Death is feared and misunderstood by most people, even Latter-day Saints to some extent. But, death is also a very sacred and intimate spiritual time for Latter-day Saints. It represents -- and we believe it is -- the passing from one sphere of existence to the next, much as birth does on the other end of mortality.

Some may find this morbid, but I got to wondering, who would I want to help dress me in my temple clothes when my time comes. Of course my brother, should he survive me. We already share the experience of dressing our father with the help of several men in our parents ward. I selected them because we admired them and their dedication to the Gospel over the years, and because we considered to be good peers of our father. But, what if I were to die suddenly, who would it be? The men I consider "friends", at least from my youth, are all over the nation, and contact with them has indeed been limited since we went on missions a couple decades ago. So, of necessity, it would need to be some endowed men in my current ward.

And I got to thinking, who would I consider trusted enough to ask this last bit of service from, should the need arise suddenly? And better yet, who would feel comfortable doing it, who would get past the squeemishness of handling, lifting, and clothing my mortal remains? I was befuddled for a minute or two thinking about this, but then the name of one ward brother came, then another, then a couple more. And by the time I decided it wasn't necessary to think any further in these lines, I could easily count on at least 8 or 10 men who I could not only feel I could trust with such a task, but who in all honesty would most likely feel humbly honored to do so.

And you know what, I realized that I do have friends in my ward, for what is the measure of a true friend? It is another testimony of the truth and sacredness of the proxy work done in God's Holy Temples. Namely, someone who performs that last bit of simple, intimate, and spiritual service of dressing another's mortal remains who has recently passed in the temple clothing.