seminary

Time-release seminary. Junior year. Was it second period? Or fourth? (Eat your heart out, all you who had to endure early-morning seminary.) I even remember the teacher's name. He had a reputation for saying different things. We would qualify things he said behind his back with "The Gospel according to Brother P----."

He had these object lessons that he gave year after year.

In one of them, he circled a power cord, one of those big orange ones, on the floor to make an area big enough for one person to stand or sit in. He then asked one of the students to stand in it. Some boy volunteered. He then instructed the boy to promise not to step over it, or break it. He promised. Then the teacher offered a donut if he could get out of that circle without stepping over it or breaking it. The boy couldn't think of a way. He then offered all the money in his wallet, several bills, if he could do it. The boy could not.

My scheming mind, though, set to work as if it were a logic problem. According to his words, I couldn't step over the cord or break it. But he never said anything about touching it, did he? I figured I could lift the cord, and get out of the circle by stepping under it. That was definitely not restricted by the promise.

I mentioned it to the class, the teacher waved me off. That was not the point. The point was the promise. One year, he said, a kid stepped right out of that circle and grabbed the money. The Spirit immediately left the room, the teacher warned us.

He then explained what the lesson was about. It was based on BYU founder Karl Maeser's chalk line quote, the one displayed all over BYU campus. But I didn't know that at the time.

"I have been asked what I mean by 'word of honor.' I will tell you. Place me behind prison walls — walls of stone ever so high, ever so thick, reaching ever so far into ground — there is a possibility that in some way or another I may be able to escape; but stand me on the floor and draw a chalk line around me and have me give my word of honor never to cross it. Can I get out of that circle? No, never. I'd die first.”

So it was about keeping your word, and here I was taking it apart like a logic challenge. I wondered about my faith that day. I thought I'd done something wrong in approaching it as I did. Indicative of my future path, perhaps?

I'm glad now I did take the whole thing apart, and step under that cord, so to speak, with the help of logic.