Why can't I go in the Temple?

We've touched lightly on this subject once before (when we discussed the different kinds of buildings in the Mormon church), but we haven't really talked in depth about why not everyone can enter a temple. I've come across this question usually from one of three people: The person who has wandered in to a temple in their travels and tried to enter out of curiosity, the person that has heard from one source or another that the Mormon temples are 'secret', and the person who was unable to attend their relative's marriage inside the temple.

Without a doubt, the third can be the most difficult. Especially when it is, for example, the LDS convert daughter of a non-mormon family. Dad doesn't understand why he can't be there to give his daughter away, and it can seem like a direct personal offense. Understandably, there is a tremendous potential for hurt feelings as the celebration of the new marriage seems to pass right on by some who should be key participants. There is no easy answer; even the best efforts to include all family members can fall short of assuaging the feelings of being left out of an important moment.

But let's get those other two people taken care of first.

We're very sorry, the temple is not intended to be a tourist attraction. Some of the more prominent temples, like the one in Salt Lake City, do offer a visitors center and grounds that are open to the public. The Mesa Arizona temple (one of my favorites) has a beautiful Christmas Lights display on its grounds every year. The Nauvoo Temple is surrounded by historical sites and period demonstrations of pioneer life, all offered for free and staffed by volunteer missionaries. But the sanctity of the temple itself is not to be violated by casual passers-by or the merely curious. It is a place of refuge and worship, and its very purpose would be negated by that type of exposure. We don't build them out of the best materials and most careful workmanship because we want to attract people - they are not intended as a marketing ploy or even an evangelical or missionary tool. They are built to honor God and then dedicated to Him. If you understand why they don't let roads, motorboats, and crowds into the Boundary Waters Canoe Area in Northern Minnesota, you probably can appreciate what I'm trying to communicate.

Yes, we know what you read or heard (on the internet, from your friend the minister, in the brochure from your well-meaning friend) about the 'secret ceremonies'. Sorry, it's not as titillating as what you've heard. Frankly, the unprepared would probably be bored if they actually went in to listen and watch. The deep beauty of the temple rites are hidden deep in their words and meaning, and appreciating them requires an enormous amount of preparation. In short - while to me temple worship is wonderous and meaningful - you'd probably find it quite tedious, especially compared to what you've heard and read. Here's one of my favorite stories: Once upon a time someone was supposedly kept as a slave in the Salt Lake Temple. They jumped out of the 4th story window into the Salt Lake and swam to freedom to tell their story. To verify the plausibility, start by checking the map for the distance from the Salt Lake Temple to the Great Salt Lake. I hope they got a running start before they hit the window. The stories are so much more interesting than reality sometimes.

Now we're back to the Father who can't attend his daughter's wedding. We do want you there. Your daughter wants you there. Everyone wants you to be there - no one wants to leave you out. In all likelihood, the decision to marry in the temple was a very difficult one for your daughter because she knew it would mean you being absent from this most important day. She is making a tremendous sacrifice to show her devotion to God. The heart pangs for her are probably not unlike those that Abraham felt when God asked him to sacrifice Isaac. It hurts her too. But be proud - you helped her become the woman she is, and to be found both worthy to enter the temple and willing to do so at this great cost to such an important relationship speaks volumes of her character and devotion.

I know that doesn't take the pain away. If we have done everything right, we will ensure you are a part of everything else - gathering outside the temple, taking the photos, dancing and talking in the reception afterwards. But there is still that brief moment when they are in the temple and you are not... That's a hard thing.

So you know, the wedding ceremony itself is very short, and not showy. On its face, it is very simple. There is no music, there are no grandiose speeches, there is no processional, there are no flowers. No pictures are taken, no audio or video recordings are made. A few words are pronounced, and the marriage is solemnized for time and all eternity. In a few years, when you are holding your grandchildren on your lap, and people reminisce about the goings-on at the wedding - they won't be talking about what happened inside. Even just between those that were inside the temple - they aren't talking about that part that you missed when you aren't around. They just don't do that. So the festivities, the relationships, the greetings, the reception, the gifts, the food and the cake, the feelings of the day - you will still be there for all of that. All of that happens outside the temple. You're still a part of it.

If there is one thing we don't want the temple to be - to be viewed as an exclusive club. It is not. Heavenly Father ultimately wants everyone to go in. Rich and poor, male and female, learned and unlearned. The high standard He has placed to enter is not designed to exclude people - it is to ensure that when they do enter, they benefit fully from it by being prepared and by not violating the very sanctity that makes it special.

The temple is not a college fraternity. My Mormon friends and I don't talk about what happens in the temple any more with each other than we do with you. Even my wife and I do not discuss the specifics of the temple when we are outside it. That is what makes it 'sacred' and not 'secret'.

We hope we will prepare yourself in such a way that we can see you there some day. While the sacredness of that experience prevents me from talking about specifics of temple worship, let me share what I hope for. We will meet, I will smile and we will shake hands or embrace. We will whisper our greetings quietly. We will reflect for a moment on how glad we are to see each other in this very special place, and ponder gratefully our shared belief in the gospel and the comfort we feel knowing that those dear to us desire to be there and are worthy to attend with us. We'll mentally recommit ourselves to living the Gospel of Jesus Christ. And we'll bask in a feeling of reverence - that special peace and calm that comes from keeping the commandments and knowing that we are both preparing to return to live with our Heavenly Father.

This week I had the privilege of returning to a very special temple in Chicago, Illinois. I contributed to its building fund as a child. It was my 'first' temple - I participated there for the first time when I was 12. I entered and participated in the higher ordinances shortly before entering the mission field about the time I turned 19. And I was sealed to my wife there a little over a year after I returned from my mission. I don't get there very often anymore, as we have a temple in St. Paul, Minnesota now. But my business took my by there and I had a few extra hours, so I stopped and attended. As I was walking through the temple on my way from one session to another, I paused by the room that I was sealed to my wife in. I thought for a moment about that day. The only person I could picture in my mind from that room on that day was my beautiful wife. I realized that I cannot remember a single other thing - I know my parents were there, but I don't remember seeing them in the room. In fact, I don't really remember really anyone else being in the room. I don't remember where anyone sat. A lot has happened - I have a lot of children now, an busy job, duties in the church and my community. As I stood there quietly on Wednesday evening, all I could remember about that day many years ago was the image of my wife and the overwhelming sense of how important that place was, how important that day was. It was the right time. It was the right place. And it was the right person. That was what mattered.

I hope I will see you there soon.