Irony is when the outcome is different than what is expected. For example, we have all observed that when we give love, we have more.

Another example is Christ's words about service. He said "He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it." (Matthew 10:39).

That's irony. The gospel is filled with irony.

Before I was introduced to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints I was an honor student at Oregon State University. At the beginning of my second year I became so depressed that this honor student was unable to open a book. That situation is fatal to an education. I dropped my classes and went home to a situation that could only get worse. I was losing my student draft deferral, would be inducted into the army, sent off to Vietnam, and would be killed.

Before having to face that fate, I made a trip to see my girl friend in Provo, Utah at BYU. She took me to church. It was the fast and testimony meeting of a student ward. Here were all of these happy young people, my own age, standing in line waiting their turn to bear their testimonies before the congregation and to cry.

What in the world is with these people, I wondered? What is going on here?

After church she took me to the apartment that she shared with five other girls. They were all there, plus the recently-returned missionary boy friend on one. When he found that he was in the presence of a non-member, he saw his chance to show off his missionary skills. He gave me the first discussion. It was painfully embarrassing.

But then he looked at Marjorie and said, "Do you have a Book of Mormon you could give him?"

A spring seemingly launched Marjorie from her chair and sent her running to her bedroom. She returned with a book, and handed it to me. I knew that I had a treasure. My friends had always talked about the Book of Mormon, but had never offered me one. I thought that it was probably a secret book that only the properly-initiated could have.

Because of my depression I hadn't been able to open a book, but ironically, it was a book that cured my depression. As I read I became so absorbed that reading the book was all that I wanted to do. I felt light coming into my head pushing the darkness out. It was exhilarating. My depression simply melted away.

Another irony.

Before I began my reading of the Book of Mormon, my friend, Terry, called and said, "There are two openings in the U.S. Navy in Boise. Shall we take them?" I was still depressed at that point, knowing that I'd be drafted, sent to Vietnam, and killed. I heard myself say, "I guess so." I reasoned that I could dodge the draft by becoming a full-time sailor 120 days hence.

Those 120 days were filled by the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, church, and baptism.

I didn't join the Church because of the girl. I joined because of the Book of Mormon. But I later married my missionary. Terry did, too. So did Deryl Leggett and Lonnie Shurtleff. Four farm boys, all the same age, living along the foothills of the Elkhorn Mountains, married their missionaries.

My Aunt Jo said, "That's the way the Mormons get them: They put their pretty girls out there, and before the boys know it, they're hooked."

There might be something to that, but all four of us are eternally grateful for our missionaries. Aunt Jo should be grateful, too. Had it not been for my missionary and the Book of Mormon, her temple work would still not be done. That's ironical, too.

Irony is in the Priesthood, also.

There's now a thing called "speech to text." You speak into a device, and your words appear in print on the screen. But that artificial intelligence isn't all that smart. I was interested to note that it didn't understand "Aaronic Priesthood." The printed text said, "Ironic Priesthood."

And that set me thinking:

It's ironic that this Church considers 11- and 12-year-old boys men, mature enough to hold and to use the Priesthood.

It's also ironic that the Aaronic Priesthood holds the keys to the ministering of angels. I never understood why that was so until just last month. Dallin H. Oaks explains that "In general, the blessings of spiritual companionship and communication are only available to those who are clean ... Through the Aaronic Priesthood ordinances of baptism and the sacrament, we are cleansed of our sins and promised that if we keep our covenants we will always have the Spirit to be with us. I believe that promise not only refers to the Holy Ghost but also to the ministering of angels ... Those who hold the Aaronic Priesthood open the door for all Church members who worthily partake of the sacrament to enjoy the companionship of the Spirit of the Lord and the ministering of angels." (Dallin H. Oaks, general conference, October 1998).

It's ironic that the Church relies on teenage boys to take the gospel to the world. They receive their first training in the Aaronic Priesthood, then they're given the higher Priesthood at age 18, and just a few days later are sent off to preach the gospel. That's amazing, unexpected, incredible, and ironic.

My formerly atheistic friend had this to say about these boys:

"My friend, Leslie, invited me to meet with two 'elders' from the Church. I expected to see two elderly men to whom the Church had given an assignment to teach people like me. I thought I would humor them so that they could feel good about themselves. The two elders turned out to be boys who were still wet behind the ears, and they're going to teach me, an adult?!

"At the beginning of the third discussion, one elder apologized and explained that his companion would be teaching the entire lesson because he, himself, had just had a wisdom tooth extracted, his jaw was swollen, and he was in pain, especially when he talked. But first, he wanted me to say the opening prayer. I responded with comments that it would seem disrespectful since I'm an atheist, and didn't think that God exists. The elder in pain launched into an hour-long refutation of my comments, and said if he could hear me say the prayer, perhaps he could understand why I hadn't gotten an answer. I was shocked that he expected God to actually talk to me, and felt emotions welling up inside. I felt like crying, but under no circumstances could I let the elders and Leslie see that I was feeling emotional. The elder explained to me how to pray and asked me to say the closing prayer, and promised that if I would do so, I would have a marvelous, confirmatory experience. I felt ridiculous 'talking to the air,' but did some token thing to satisfy the elder, and left for home. As I left Leslie's house and walked down the street, I had a mighty struggle to fight back the tears, and didn't understand why those 'boys' made me feel so emotional.. What would the neighbors think if they saw me crying? I felt angry and embarrassed, so decided I'd had enough. It was time to end it. I only cared about what was true and logical, so I certainly wasn't going to get involved in something based on emotion.

"Back at home, I decided I needed some way to get out of these discussions without offending the elders or Leslie, since I wanted to maintain Leslie's friendship. The best way to put an end to all of this would be to tell them that I said the prayer, and didn't get an answer. I thought they would then understand why I didn't want to continue our discussions and we could part with friendly feelings. The only problem was that I couldn't lie to them. That meant that I actually had to do it.

"I went into my bedroom, locked the door and pulled down the window shades (just in case there was a remote chance that anyone should look in and see me talking to the air and think I'd lost my mind). I felt ridiculous. I knelt down by the bed like the elder had told me to do. He said I had to address Him as 'Heavenly Father' so I began that way. Then I was supposed to thank Him for blessings. I said, 'I've had a lot of good things happen to me in my life, and I suppose they must have come from You, so thank you.'

"Then I was supposed to ask something. So, I decided to get it all over with quickly by asking if Joseph Smith was His prophet. After I closed 'in the name of Jesus Christ, amen,' as directed, the elder said to then wait for the answer, so I had to stay there. I thought to the count of three ought to do it.

"'One,' pause, 'two,' pause, and I never got to three. This wave of intense love came over me. I knew that I was not only heard, but was loved with an intensity that I'd never felt before. I also knew without a doubt that what the elders had taught me was true. To say that it was a shock is indeed an understatement. I cried, and felt totally overwhelmed. I was still crying the next day when I called Leslie. I stammered, 'It happened.'

"Leslie asked, 'What happened?'

"I said, 'It happened. I got my answer!'"

It's ironic that this "boy" could have such power through his Priesthood and the Holy Ghost to refute the incorrect thoughts of a set-in-her-ways atheist and bring her to baptism. She's been a dedicated and happy member of the Church now for nearly 50 years.

This "Ironic Priesthood" carries the power to make a little boy into a powerful servant of God.

The greatest irony of all is that the God of the universe is aware of each of us little sparrows, and will take the time to minister to us individually, and assure us of His love. That's something you wouldn't expect. It's irony at its best.