Richard L. Evans
The Spoken Word
24 January 1954
On the Fringe
In thumbing through some commonplace words we find the word fringe — and we find it thus in part defined as “an ornamental border …” or “something resembling a fringe; . . . as the outer fringe of a crowd.”
No doubt there are fringes in almost everything; but as to actual performance, fringe doesn’t seem to play a very important part. It is there. It may look well — but it is only on the edge. And that in part describes some people who are “on the fringe,” as well as the fringe on fabrics. Families have their fringe. Clubs and committees have their fringe. Communities and countries have their fringe. Churches have their fringe. Every organization, every institution has its fringe of those who hang out on the edge.
They aren’t altogether in or altogether out. They may claim to be part of the picture when there is something good going on but refuse to be part of the picture when there are obligations to be borne. They may want the advantages of citizenship without assuming their full share of service. They may want the privileges of membership without meeting their due measure of obligations. They may want the love and loyalty of the family without carrying their full share of the family load. They may want the blessings and benefits of the church without conformance or service or support. They may want the freedom, the peace and protection and prosperity of the country without giving full loyalty or allegiance.
Surely there is some stigma in just staying on the edge and never quite being part of the picture.
And one wonders how much patience the Judge and Father of us all will have with those who choose to live their lives on the fringe, without becoming a real functional part of the fabric. The larger blessings and promises of life (as well, indeed, as lesser ones) are predicated upon performance, upon participation, upon the doing of the thing, upon the living of the law, and when we do what we should do, we shall somehow, somewhere, receive the promised reward.
But if willingly we fail to perform, if willingly we are found on the fringe, if we cannot quite be counted in or out, we fall far short of full effectiveness — and far short of the compensations that come to those who can be counted on.
I love this, Ardis. While I was waiting for 2 years to reach legal age before I could be baptized, I listened to the Spoken Word, since I was not allowed to attend church. The Spoken Word WAS my church, and these mini sermons served me well.
I’m glad you have these memories, Merivene. RLE could say so much in so few words.
RLE is one of my favorites.
I’m really enjoying this series, Ardis. Thanks for posting them.
Thank you for posting this; I actually needed to hear this message today . . . I guess it’s time to jump back into the middle of things. . . . Meanwhile, I too have fond memories of listening to Elder Evans. It was unusual that an Apostle would have the calling for being the narrator for the Music and the Spoken Word, but it sure put importance on the things he said. I remember my mother waving her cooking spoon and exclaiming: “That’s an Apostle who just said that!”
When I was in Utah this week, a friend took me to visit an elderly black Salt Lake City community activist. Her first exposure to the Church, before she got baptized, was by listening to Elder Evans and the Tabernacle Choir broadcasts. He seems to have been so important in so many lives.