Read The Way of the Lord.

Mormons have a unique welfare program, one that was praised by Ronald Reagan. This system allows each person in the Church to contribute to a special fund, called a Fast offering, to care for Mormons in need. They also volunteer their time to help. Then, should they find themselves in need someday, they can utilize this fund, contributing additional service hours to help “pay” for what they receive. This allows them to retain their self-esteem and self-sufficiency.

The Mormon welfare program begins with fast offerings. Once a month, Mormons volunteer to go without food or drink for twenty-four hours. This is usually done the first Sunday of each month and actually only requires a person to miss two meals. During this time, which is called fasting, they pray and try to focus as much as possible on spiritual things. The Bible teaches us that fasting can increase our spirituality. We might recall that Jesus fasted at the start of His mission. That Sunday, they donate at least the amount of money they saved by not eating or drinking to the Fast Offering fund. This money is used exclusively to care for Mormons in need. (A separate fund, through the Humanitarian Aid program, provides humanitarian care for people who are not LDS.)

Mormons are encouraged to do all they can to assist themselves. One way they do this is to store a year’s supply of everything they might need to survive for a year of unemployment or other hardship. They are also encouraged to assist their own families. However, if Mormons exhaust their personal resources and family cannot help, they can turn to the Mormon Church for assistance. They meet with their bishop (similar to a pastor) to determine their needs and to discuss their budgets. Mormons in difficult times are not helped to maintain their previous standard of living, but only to stay alive and reasonably comfortable. They are expected to make as many budget cuts as possible prior to asking for help. The bishop then determines what is needed and authorizes it. Recipients are not given cash. Instead, necessary bills are paid for them and an authorization form to the storehouse is given.

Bishop’s storehouses are a key to this program. They look like small grocery stores, but the checkout counter does not have a cash register. Recipients select the groceries they need from a list and the bishop reviews it and makes changes as needed. (These changes might give them less, but it just as often gives them more than they asked for if they were too cautious.) They take the form to the storehouse where volunteers assist them in “shopping” from the shelves, collecting the items they were approved to receive. These items involve high quality fruits, milk, juices, vegetables, meats, baking supplies, hygiene materials, cleaning supplies, baby supplies and other things needed to meet the needs of the family. They are given enough to last two weeks. Instead of a cash register, the recipient simply reviews the list with a volunteer to make sure they didn’t forget anything on their list. Surplus food is donated to food banks in the local community. In addition, the canneries used to preserve the food are often donated to other organizations, such as the Red Cross, to use in serving the general population.

In exchange for these services, Mormons are asked to take on additional volunteer responsibilities as they are able. Many work for an hour at the storehouse before filling their own order. Many volunteer to assist in welfare assignments—the church operates its own canneries and farms in many areas to prepare the food and this work is done by volunteers—or do other types of service. The service doesn’t equal what they have received, but it gives them a feeling of having contributed to their own well-being and allows them to feel more comfortable accepting help. And of course, they have contributed to the well-being of others in need during their more prosperous times.

In addition to these services, Mormons can learn how to get a job, improve their literacy skills, and develop other skills that will help them better care for themselves in the future.

Thomas Monson said of the program:

No member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints who has canned peas, topped beets, hauled hay, or shoveled coal in such a cause ever forgets or regrets the experience of helping provide for those in need. Devoted men and women help to operate this vast and inspired program. In reality, the plan would never succeed on effort alone, for this program operates through faith after the way of the Lord.

President Monson offered a Biblical example of the commandment to share what we have with others, even at great sacrifice to ourselves. In 1 Kings, we read about a humble widow living in the midst of a terrible drought. She was very nearly out of food, with barely enough to make one last meager meal for herself and her son, and then anticipated that they would then simply wait for death. At this critical moment, the prophet Elijah arrived and asked her to make him a meal. She explained their circumstances, but he persisted.

Fear not; go and do as thou hast said: but make me thereof a little cake first, and bring it unto me, and after make for thee and for thy son.

“For thus saith the Lord God of Israel, The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall the cruse of oil fail, until the day that the Lord sendeth rain upon the earth.

“And she went and did according to the saying of Elijah: and she, and he, and her house, did eat many days.

“And the barrel of meal wasted not, neither did the cruse of oil fail.” (1 Kgs. 17:9–11, 13–16.)

President Monson asks us to imagine the courage it took for this widow to walk into her home and do what was asked, knowing it was the last of their food. This willingness to care for others at great sacrifice is a necessary component of any humanitarian effort. For Mormons, if they choose to give only what they saved, there is no financial loss, but there is a physical sacrifice that comes from going without food. Most Mormons choose to give more than they saved, or to imagine they would have had a feast, not bargain meals during that time of fasting.

He told of a man who contacted him when he was a bishop to say he was sending a semi-truck filled with produce from his farm to the storehouse. He wanted them to know it was coming so they could prepare, but he did not want anyone to know who was sending it.

He mentions visiting an elderly disabled friend and discovering the house was cold because the man couldn’t afford to heat it and that things were generally falling apart. He contacted a local bishop to see if there might be volunteers available to help out. The bishop quickly lined up people eager to contribute to the project. One month later, President Monson returned to the home:

The sidewalks which had been uprooted by large poplar trees had been replaced, the porch of the home rebuilt, a new door with glistening hardware installed, the ceilings lowered, the walls papered, the woodwork painted, the roof replaced, and the cupboards filled. No longer was the home chilly and uninviting. It now seemed to whisper a warm welcome. Lou saved until last showing me his pride and joy: there on his bed was a beautiful plaid quilt bearing the crest of his McDonald family clan. It had been made with loving care by the women of the Relief Society. Before leaving, I discovered that each week the Young Adults would bring in a hot dinner and share a home evening. Warmth had replaced the cold; repairs had transformed the wear of years; but more significantly, hope had dispelled despair and now love reigned triumphant.

All who participated in this moving drama of real life had discovered a new and personal appreciation of the Master’s teaching, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” (Acts 20:35.)

The difference between a government welfare program and the LDS program is one of love. Mormons are giving what they have to those in need because of their love for other people. Those who receive do what they can to repay what is given and to give to others in return. It is a unified cycle of people voluntarily helping people.

Children of the World

A New Land,  But the Same Church

One who had learned well the lesson of obedience, who had found the fountain of truth, was a kind and sincere man of humble means and circumstances. He had joined the Church in Europe and, by diligently saving and sacrificing, had immigrated to North America—to a new land, a strange language, different customs, but the same Church under the leadership of the same Lord, whom he trusted and obeyed. He became the branch president of a little flock of struggling Saints in a somewhat unfriendly city. He followed the program of the Church, although members were few and tasks were many. He set an example for his branch membership that was truly Christlike, and they responded with a love rarely seen.

He earned a living with his hands as a tradesman. His means were limited, but he always paid a full tithing and donated more. He started a missionary fund in his little branch, and for months at a time, he was the only contributor. When there were missionaries in his city, he fed them, and they never left his house without some tangible donation to their work and welfare. Church members from far away who passed through his city and visited his branch always received his hospitality and the warmth of his spirit and went on their way knowing they had met an unusual man, one of the Lord’s obedient servants.

Those who presided over him received his profound respect and his extra-special care. To him they were emissaries of the Lord; he ministered to their physical comforts and was especially solicitous in his prayers—which were frequent—for their welfare. One Sabbath day some leaders visiting his branch participated with him in no fewer than a dozen prayers in various meetings and in visits to members. The leaders left him at the day’s end with a feeling of exhilaration and spiritual uplift which kept them joyous throughout a four-hour drive in wintry weather and which now, after many years, warms the spirit and quickens the heart as that day is remembered.

Men of learning, men of experience sought out this humble, unlettered man of God and counted themselves fortunate if they could spend an hour with him. His appearance was ordinary; his English was halting and somewhat difficult to understand; his home was unpretentious. He didn’t own a car or a television. He wrote no books and preached no polished sermons and did none of the things to which the world usually pays attention. Yet the faithful beat a path to his door. Why? Because they wished to drink at his fountain of truth. They appreciated not so much what he said as what he did, not the substance of the sermons he preached but the strength of the life he led.

To know that a poor man consistently and cheerfully gave at least twice a tenth to the Lord gave one a clearer insight into the true meaning of tithing. To see him minister to the hungered and take in the stranger made one know that he did it as he would do to the Master. To pray with him and partake of his confidence of divine intercession was to experience a new medium of communication.

Thomas S. Monson, “Finding Strength through Obedience,” Ensign, Oct 2009, 4–8

Service in Canada

Whenever I attend a temple dedication, I think of Brother and Sister Gustav and Margarete Wacker of Kingston, Ontario. He was once the branch president of the Kingston Branch. He was from the old country. He spoke English with a thick accent. He never owned or drove a car. He plied the trade of a barber. He made but little money cutting hair near an army base at Kingston. How he loved the missionaries! The highlight of his day would be when he had the privilege to cut the hair of a missionary. Never would there be a charge. When they would make a feeble attempt to pay him, he would say, “Oh no; it is a joy to cut the hair of a servant of the Lord.” Indeed, he would reach deep into his pockets and give the missionaries all of his tips for the day. If it were raining, as it often does in Kingston, President Wacker would call a taxi and send the missionaries to their apartment by cab, while he, himself, at day’s end would lock the small shop and walk home—alone in the driving rain.

I first met Gustav Wacker when I noticed that his tithing was far in excess of that expected from his potential income. My efforts to explain to him that the Lord required no more than a tenth fell on attentive but unconvinced ears. He simply responded that he loved to pay all he could to the Lord. It amounted to about a third of his income. His dear wife felt exactly as he did. Their unique manner of tithing payment continued.

Gustav and Margarete Wacker established a home that was a heaven. They were not blessed with children but mothered and fathered their many Church visitors. A sophisticated and learned Church leader from Ottawa told me, “I like to visit the Wacker home. I come away refreshed in spirit and determined to ever live close to the Lord.”

Did our Heavenly Father honor such abiding faith? The branch prospered. The membership outgrew the rented Slovakian Hall where they met and moved into a modern and lovely chapel of their own to which the branch members had contributed their share and more, that it might grace the city of Kingston. President and Sister Wacker had their prayers answered by serving a proselyting mission to their native Germany and later a temple mission to that beautiful temple in Washington, D.C. Then, in 1983, his mission in mortality concluded, Gustav Wacker peacefully passed away while being held in the loving arms of his eternal companion, dressed in his white temple suit, there in the Washington Temple.

Thomas S. Monson, “Days Never to Be Forgotten,” Ensign, Nov 1990, 67

Mormons in German Democratic Republic

That special morning the sunlight bathed the city of Berlin. It had been raining all night, but now beauty prevailed. We were driven to the chambers of the chief representatives of the government.

Beyond the exquisite entry to the building, we were greeted by Chairman Honecker. We presented to him the statuette First Step, depicting a mother helping her child take its first step toward its father. He was highly pleased with the gift. He then escorted us into his private council room. There, around a large round table, we were seated. Others at the table included Chairman Honecker and his deputies of government.

Chairman Honecker began, “We know members of your Church believe in work; you’ve proven that. We know you believe in the family; you’ve demonstrated that. We know you are good citizens in whatever country you claim as home; we have observed that. The floor is yours. Make your desires known.”

I began, “Chairman Honecker, at the dedication and open house for the temple in Freiberg, 89,890 of your countrymen stood in line, at times up to four hours, frequently in the rain, that they might see a house of God. In the city of Leipzig, at the dedication of the stake center, 12,000 people attended the open house. In the city of Dresden there were 29,000 visitors; in the city of Zwickau, 5,300. And every week of the year 1,500 to 1,800 people visit the temple grounds in the city of Freiberg. They want to know what we believe. We would like to tell them that we believe in honoring and obeying and sustaining the law of the land. We would like to explain our desire to achieve strong family units. These are but two of our beliefs. We cannot answer questions, and we cannot convey our feelings, because we have no missionary representatives here as we do in other countries. The young men and young women whom we would like to have come to your country as missionary representatives would love your nation and your people. More particularly, they would leave an influence with your people which would be ennobling. Then we would like to see young men and young women from your nation who are members of our Church serve as missionary representatives in many nations, such as in America, in Canada, and in a host of others. They will return better prepared to assume positions of responsibility in your land.”

Chairman Honecker then spoke for perhaps thirty minutes, describing his objectives and viewpoints and detailing the progress made by his nation. At length, he smiled and addressed me and the group, saying, “We know you. We trust you. We have had experience with you. Your missionary request is approved.”

My spirit literally soared out of the room. The meeting was concluded. As we left the beautiful government chambers, Elder Russell Nelson turned to me and said, “Notice how the sunshine is penetrating this hall. It’s almost as though our Heavenly Father is saying, ‘I am pleased.’ ”

Thomas S. Monson, “Thanks Be to God,” Ensign, May 1989, 50

Mormons in Poland

An example of such service was the missionary experience of Juliusz and Dorothy Fussek, who were called to fill a two-year mission in Poland. Brother Fussek was born in Poland. He spoke the language. He loved the people. Sister Fussek was English and knew little of Poland and its people.

Trusting in the Lord, they embarked on their assignment. The living conditions were primitive, the work lonely, their task immense. A mission had not at that time been established in Poland. The assignment given the Fusseks was to prepare the way, that a mission could be established so that other missionaries could be called to serve, people could be taught, converts could be baptized, branches could be established, and chapels could be erected.

Did Elder and Sister Fussek despair because of the enormity of their assignment? Not for a moment. They knew their calling was from God. They prayed for His divine help, and they devoted themselves wholeheartedly to their work. They remained in Poland not two years but five years. All of the foregoing objectives were realized.

Elders Russell M. Nelson, Hans B. Ringger, and I, accompanied by Elder Fussek, met with Minister Adam Wopatka of the Polish government, and we heard him say, “Your church is welcome here. You may build your buildings; you may send your missionaries. You are welcome in Poland. This man,” pointing to Juliusz Fussek, “has served your church well. You can be grateful for his example and his work.”

Thomas S. Monson, “To Learn, to Do, to Be,” Liahona, Nov 2008, 60–62, 67–68

Mormons in Czechoslovakia

Brother Snederfler has always been willing to stand up for the gospel. When the Church wanted the Czechoslovakian government to again recognize it officially, the Communist leaders told us, “Don’t send an American or any other foreigner. Send a citizen of Czechoslovakia.” That was frightening because to admit then that you were a leader of any church meant that you might be in danger!

Brother Snederfler was the one chosen to go to his government. He later told me that he had asked for the prayers of the branch members. Then he went to Olga and said, “I love you. I don’t know when—or if—I’ll be back. But I love the gospel, and I must follow my Savior.” With that spirit of faith and devotion, he went to his government leaders and told them that he was the leader of the Church there and that he wanted them to again recognize it officially.

Meanwhile, Elder Russell M. Nelson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles had been working very hard to get the needed approval. It came: “Your church is again recognized in Czechoslovakia.”

Brother Snederfler eagerly went to tell Olga and the other stalwart members of the Church there that once again missionaries could come to their country and that they could again worship Heavenly Father in freedom. It was a happy day.

Thomas S. Monson, “Come Listen to a Prophet’s Voice: Influence of the Temple,” Liahona, Aug 2002, 2–3

Temple in Germany

Germany has had a challenging history, and the stories of the church in Germany are filled with moments of prayer, inspiration, prophecy, and service. Following are three stories told by the Mormon prophet, Thomas S. Monson, about the church’s growth and work in Germany.

German Mormonism After the War

In the words of a well-known song, I wish you could “come fly with me” to eastern Germany, where I have visited many times. Not long ago, as I traveled along the autobahns, I reflected on a time almost 35 years before when I saw on the same autobahns just trucks carrying armed soldiers and policemen. Barking dogs everywhere strained on their leashes, and informers walked the streets. Back then, the flame of freedom had flickered and burned low. A wall of shame sprang up, and a curtain of iron came down. Hope was all but snuffed out. Life, precious life, continued on in faith, nothing wavering. Patient waiting was required. An abiding trust in God marked the life of each Latter-day Saint.

When I made my initial visit beyond the wall, it was a time of fear on the part of our members as they struggled in the performance of their duties. I found the dullness of despair on the faces of many passersby but a bright and beautiful expression of love emanating from our members. In Görlitz the building in which we met was shell-pocked from the war, but the interior reflected the tender care of our leaders in bringing brightness and cleanliness to an otherwise shabby and grimy structure. The Church had survived both a world war and the cold war which followed. The singing of the Saints brightened every soul. …

I was touched by their sincerity. I was humbled by their poverty. They had so little. My heart filled with sorrow because they had no patriarch. They had no wards or stakes-just branches. They could

not receive temple blessings-neither endowment nor sealing. No official visitor had come from Church headquarters in a long time. The members were forbidden to leave the country. Yet they trusted in the Lord with all their hearts, and they leaned not to their own understanding. In all their ways they acknowledged Him, and He directed their paths. I stood at the pulpit, and with tear-filled eyes and a voice choked with emotion, I made a promise to the people: “If you will remain true and faithful to the commandments of God, every blessing any member of the Church enjoys in any other country will be yours.”

That night as I realized what I had promised, I dropped to my knees and prayed: “Heavenly Father, I’m on Thy errand; this is Thy Church. I have spoken words that came not from me, but from Thee and Thy Son. Wilt Thou, therefore, fulfill the promise in the lives of this noble people.” There coursed through my mind the words from the psalm, “Be still, and know that I am God.” The heavenly virtue of patience was required.

Little by little the promise was fulfilled. First, patriarchs were ordained, then lesson manuals produced. Wards were formed and stakes created. Chapels and stake centers were begun, completed, and dedicated. Then, miracle of miracles, a holy temple of God was permitted, designed, constructed, and dedicated. Finally, after an absence of 50 years, approval was granted for full-time missionaries to enter the nation and for local youth to serve elsewhere in the world. Then, like the wall of Jericho, the Berlin Wall crumbled, and freedom, with its attendant responsibilities, returned.

All of the parts of the precious promise of almost 35 years earlier were fulfilled, save one. Tiny Görlitz, where the promise had been given, still had no chapel of its own. Now, even that dream became a reality. The building was approved and completed. Dedication day dawned. Sister Monson and I, along with Elder and Sister Dieter Uchtdorf, held a meeting of dedication in Görlitz. The same songs were sung as were rendered all those years earlier. The members knew the significance of the occasion, marking the total fulfillment of the promise. They wept as they sang. The song of the righteous was indeed a prayer unto the Lord and had been answered with a blessing upon their heads. 13

At the conclusion of the meeting we were reluctant to leave. As we did so, seen were the waving hands of all, heard were the words, “Auf Wiedersehen, auf Wiedersehen; God be with you till we meet again.”

Thomas S. Monson, “Patience, a Heavenly Virtue,” Ensign, Sep 2002, 2-7

Feeding the Hungry After World War II

Fifty-two years ago, when World War II came to a close and Europe lay devastated, hunger stalked the streets, infectious diseases were everywhere to be found, and the people had given up hope. A call came for aid, and President George Albert Smith, then President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, went to see President Harry S Truman to get permission to send aid to the starving people throughout Europe. President Truman listened to President Smith and then said, “I like what you plan to do. How long will it take you to assemble the goods you would like to send and prepare them for shipment?”

President Smith responded, “President Truman, the goods are all assembled. One nod from you and the trains will roll, and ships will sail, and those supplies will be on their way.”

It happened exactly that way, with Ezra Taft Benson, then a member of the Quorum of the Twelve, delivering the supplies in behalf of the Church.

I was in Zwickau, Germany, several years ago, and an elderly gentleman came up to me and said, “President Monson, I want you to tell President Ezra Taft Benson that the food he brought after the war-food sent by the Church-kept me from starving. It gave me hope for the future.” I was deeply touched as I listened to his expressions of gratitude.

Thomas S. Monson, “Our Brothers’ Keepers,” Ensign, Jun 1998, 33

A Temple in Germany

Today, on a gentle rise in the historic city of Freiberg, Germany, there stands a beautiful, dedicated temple of God. The temple provides the ultimate-even the eternal-blessings of a loving Heavenly Father to His faithful Saints.

Years ago, on a Sunday morning, April 27, 1975, I stood on an outcropping of rock situated between the cities of Dresden and Meissen, high above the Elbe River. I responded to the promptings of the Holy Spirit and offered a prayer of dedication on that land and its people. That prayer noted the faith of the members. It emphasized the tender feelings of many hearts filled with an overwhelming desire to obtain temple blessings. A plea for peace was expressed. Divine help was requested. I voiced the words, “Dear Father, let this be the beginning of a new day for the members of Thy Church in this land.”

Suddenly, from far below in the valley, a bell in a church steeple began to chime and the shrill crow of a rooster broke the morning silence, each heralding the commencement of a new day. Though my eyes were closed, I felt a warmth from the sun’s rays reaching my face, my hands, my arms. How could this be? An incessant rain had been falling all morning. At the conclusion of the prayer, I gazed heavenward. I noted a ray of sunshine which penetrated an opening in the heavy clouds, a ray which engulfed the spot where our small group stood. From that moment I knew divine help was at hand.

Full cooperation of government officials was forthcoming. President Spencer W. Kimball and his counselors provided enthusiastic approval. A temple was planned, a site selected, groundbreaking services held, and construction commenced. At the time of dedication, the attention of the international press was focused on this temple in its unusual setting. Words like “How?” and “Why?” were voiced frequently. This was particularly in evidence during the public open house, when 89,872 persons visited the temple. At times the waiting period stretched to three hours, occasionally in the rain. None wavered. All were shown God’s house.

Thomas S. Monson, “Those Who Love Jesus,” Ensign, Mar 1999, 2