On the Way to the temple

How amazing it is to drive down the I-15 freeway and see the temples dotting the landscape. Having traveled back and forth to Provo a number of times since my two-year absence I just can’t get over the the awe of seeing three temple out of my window at the same time. Then to imagine the Mount Timp and Provo temples a short distance in one direction and Salt Lake, Bountiful, and Ogden in the other it blows the mind to imagine 8 temples within an hour (roughly) of my house.

So I decided to go. So I woke up early and got myself all dressed up, stole a car from my parents, and headed for Draper, a temple that has always been special to me since I climbed the mountain called Jacob’s Ladder which is behind it. I had the Mormon Tabernacle Choir blasting away as I got onto the freeway congratulating myself on how good I was to be a young single adult spending my lazy summer days going to the temple.

Then I saw it. There on the side of the freeway was a car with the emergency lights flashing. Two girls were digging through the trunk for a spare tire. Now I was cruising at 60+ miles per hour going onto the freeway but nevertheless my mind passed through the following.

Instantly all my chivalry training kicked into gear. Here was the damsel in distress. Here was my chance to be the gallant knight riding to the rescue in my sparkling white shirt and tie. This was what all that training as a boy scout should lead to, the good turn daily, the good citizenship, unselfish in service and devotion to the welfare of others. Now it was time to put those skills into action.

I flashed back to all those people I had passed on the freeway as a Californian missionary. We would always slow down a little to see who it was. Elder Harrell always said he would only stop if it was a women or an old man as younger men ought to be able to change their own tires. That always made sense to me so that was the pattern we would follow. These were two young girls, probably in high school. They qualified for help. But they were also kind of cute.

Suddenly I wondered if I could change a tire there on the side of the roaring I-15. I had only changed one or two tires before and I am by no mean confident in my mechanical abilities. Wouldn’t that be terrible to mess up in front of two cute girls? Their presence, mixed with the traffic, and my uncertainty with tires could make for a very unpleasant couple of minutes.

But you never know. Obviously the damsel is always very impressed with the knight who comes a rescuing. She doesn’t see the list of expletives that never leave his mouth as he battles both the dragon and his own self-doubt. She only sees the victory as the just vanquishes the wrong before riding off into the sunset with the victor. Surely I would get brownie points at the very least. Unless, of course, the knight messes everything up.

Then I could see myself all dirty and covered in grease and sweat for forty-five minutes failing miserably until a much more dashing noblemen comes pulling up (probably driving something significantly nicer then my parent’s mini-van) and fixes the problem in under five minutes. (mostly because I loosened the bolts I’m sure.) Then I would get the thank-yous that mean nothing before driving off dejected, and he would get the damsel.

Wait, 45 minutes of grease and sweat? I was in a long-sleeve white shirt and tie on my way to the temple! No way I could change a tire and remain unspotted from the world! If I stopped I would have to go home afterward and change, maybe even shower all over again. That would put off the temple an hour or more. Sure it was the lazy days of summer but I didn’t have all day. Other people were in line to steal the car when I was done with it. Mostly likely I would miss the temple altogether, be dirty and sweaty, and get upstaged by some Camelot-league knight with a nice car.

Okay, I confess my brain doesn’t work quite that fast, by this time I was far past them and debating turning around to try again. But now I had decided that this was all a devilish plot to keep me from the temple. So I drove on.

And thought about it some more.

Wasn’t I such a good person to be going to the temple on a weekday morning? How many people my age and in my situation do that kind of thing? But I couldn’t help but feel I had missed something important. I had left the damsel so I wouldn’t be late to my round-table meeting. I got to the temple and discovered a bunch of people outside weeding the gardens and mowing the law. It was closed for maintenance. All my justification and second guessing was for naught.

As I drove back I kept peering over the center divide to see if that car was still stopped by the side of the road. No, some gallant knight had already defeated that dragon. There was no second chance this time.

How many times when we are on the road to good things do we forget to stop for the best things? Is it better to serve the dead at the expense of the living?

If any of you were broken down on the side of the freeway a few weeks ago I’m sorry I was too busy doing lip-service to do real service.