In two decades or so as a Church News staff writer, I have been present at and covered nearly a dozen temple open houses and dedications. It is always a privilege. But in every case, I have been there as an outside observer. Seeing the joy reflected in the countenances and attitudes of the open house volunteers and other Latter-day Saints in the respective temple districts, I have felt a yearning to share their experience, not as a visitor but as a participant. As a lifelong resident of the south part of the Salt Lake Valley, I had pretty much resigned myself to the idea that I would never get such an opportunity. Borrowing a term from Krister Stendahl, the distinguished Swedish Lutheran cleric, I would say I have felt "holy envy."

But with the announcement, construction and recent completion of the new Draper Utah Temple, I now get to experience and feel what others have felt.

For me, the experience goes beyond being a member of a new temple district. In a very real way, this is my hometown temple.

I grew up in Crescent, a community that adjoined Draper and today comprises portions of Draper, Sandy and South Jordan. My ancestral roots run deep in the area, going back to the pioneers who settled it under the direction of President Brigham Young.

An oil painting depicting the Angel Moroni delivering the Nephite plates to the Prophet Joseph Smith, a 1922 work by L. A. Ramsey, hangs in the foyer of the baptistry in the new temple. In my boyhood, I saw that painting at least four times a year at our quarterly stake conferences, as it hung in the chapel of our stake center in Draper. Having the painting in the temple is for me a warm and personal connection with the past.

My parents were faithful and dedicated Church members: My father, Delbert J. Lloyd, operated the stake welfare farm for many years, and my mother, LaVerda O. Lloyd, was a longtime stake Relief Society president. They both passed away in the mid-1990s. I have wondered what their impressions would be to know that the area that once comprised our Mount Jordan Stake is now a self-contained temple district with an elegant House of the Lord in Corner Canyon to the southeast of us, where I had my first Boy Scout overnight winter camp in what was essentially mountain wilderness.

Such were my thoughts as I responded to an assignment on March 11 to be an usher for the temple open house. Our family toured the temple some weeks ago. On that occasion, I expressed appreciation to an usher and remarked that I would be doing something similar in a few weeks.

"It's fun," she said.

I expected that it would be enjoyable, and I was looking forward to it.

At our instructional meeting beforehand, our stake usher coordinator called on me to give the opening prayer. In the prayer, I asked that the Spirit of the Lord would be poured out in abundance upon all who would visit the open house that day. It was not a mere platitude; I sincerely wanted all our visitors to feel something of what I was feeling.

There were a few essential instructions pertaining to organization, emergencies, security, etc. We were advised to be cheerful and smile and to remain standing while visitors were present.

We were told it was to be a silent tour, that if a question was posed to us, we were to politely thank the guest for the question and ask that it be held until the end of the tour where people would be waiting to answer any and all questions. I wondered whether, in such an instance, I would be able to restrain my enthusiasm for conveying essential gospel truths. But I recognized that I was not there representing myself.

As it happened, I was not assigned to be in the temple itself, but rather, in the adjacent stake center, where visitors came following their tour to enjoy refreshments, view displays and converse.

I learned it would be my duty to receive any visitors coming directly to the temple site for their tours instead of arriving at one of several "staging areas," Church meetinghouses in Draper from which to be transported by shuttle bus to the temple for the tour. I was to guide the guests into either the Relief Society room or a classroom, show them an introductory video presentation, then direct them outside to a tent-like enclosure covering the line of people waiting to enter the temple. Since they were going out of the building through the same door as some of the people who had finished their tour, I had to see to it that my visitors got on the tour, not on a bus going away from the temple.

No one said so, but it soon dawned on me that some of the visitors I would be receiving were ones who had not precisely followed instructions; that is, they had not obtained a reservation beforehand and gone to one of the staging areas for viewing the video and boarding a shuttle bus. Hence, some seemed timid or apprehensive about whether they would be allowed on a tour at this point during these waning days of the temple open house.

It felt comfortable and appropriate for me to project an air of assurance, openness and inclusiveness, and it was a delight to see relief reflected on their faces as they understood they would be accommodated.

"Come right this way; I'll take care of you," I said again and again as parties would come in to start their tour.

One woman, a resident of Bountiful some 20 miles to the north, said she had family waiting outside. It was their second attempt to visit the open house; they had tried a few days before but had arrived too late. "Bring them right in," I invited her.

Near the end of the evening, a young mother came with her daughter who looked to be about 12. I directed them into the classroom for the video. She was abashed that they would be having what amounted to a private showing before beginning the tour.

"I have to explain that we are members of the Church," she said, apparently thinking the DVD presentation was only for those not of our faith. I assured her it was all right, that we wanted them to have the full open-house experience and to feel welcome.

At the end of the video, she asked me if it would be possible to obtain a copy of it. I suggested she contact the Temple Department to ask. We didn't have time for conversation, as the open house would soon be closing for the evening. I wondered whether she knew someone she felt might be positively influenced by seeing the presentation. Had it been a few days later, I could have told her that the Church has posted a video on "Youtube" called "Why Mormons Build Temples" that includes some of the elements in what they had just seen.

As my ushering shift ended, I reflected that the experience was somewhat symbolic of what we do or ought to do in the Church. We often encounter people who are somewhat timid and apprehensive as they approach the kingdom of God. They don't know how they will be received.

Some are investigating the Church or are new members. Others have been members for a while, but for whatever reason – perhaps they have been absent for a time – lack confidence. Even "active" Church members feel awkward at times, as for example, when an individual or family attends a new ward or branch for the first time.

At one time or another, as we interact with others in the household of faith, we all have need for someone to say to us, "Come right this way; I'll take care of you." At various times, we each find ourselves in the role of either the giver or the receiver of this invitation, just as I, at separate times, was both a guest and an usher at the open house.

In this regard, I have reflected on the words of Alma, at the waters of Mormon, about coming unto the fold of God, bearing one another's burdens and comforting those that stand in need of comfort (see Mosiah 18:8-9). I have resolved to let my experience as a temple open-house usher strengthen my will to do this more perfectly.

R. Scott Lloyd, a member of the Crescent 22nd Ward, Draper Utah Crescent View Stake, has been a Church News staff writer since 1985.

rscott@desnews.com