2nd Hour Houdini

As a kid, I went through a phase where I was obsessed with reading biographies. When we went to the library, I would head right to the 92 section (IYKYK). One of the people who grabbed my imagination was the world-renowned magician and escape artist, Harry Houdini (1874–1926). I read everything about him that I could get my hands on.

His legend has resonated so much over time that songs are still being written about him. Just two years ago, Dua Lipa released a song called “Houdini,” and in it, there was a line that said, “Catch me or I go Houdini.” Over time, his name has actually become a verb, as in “Houdinied: To disappear, escape, or vanish quickly.”

Houdini spent his short life creating and performing elaborate and risky escapes that caught the world’s attention. I can’t speak for Houdini, but I’ll bet he would be impressed if he attended and LDS church service and watched the escapes that occur regularly between Sacrament Meeting and 2nd Hour.

Okay, I’ll admit to some hyperbole, but the escapes do happen. Yes, there are legitimate reasons to skip out on 2nd hour. I REPEAT: there are legitimate reasons to skip out on 2nd hour, but there are also those who pull a Houdini on occasion – or always. How do I know? Because I have been known to “go Houdini” now and again. (A shameful confession for a current Sunday School President.)

There are many strategies employed, including, but not limited to, the following:

• The White Rabbit: Some quickly head for the door with a serious expression, phone in hand, walking rapidly. The intended vibe is, “I’m late, I’m late, for a very important date.”

• The Conversationalist: Some will strike up a conversation, often in the chapel and make it last just long enough that class is underway, then quietly slip out the door.

• The Worker Bee: Surely there is something that must be urgently done in the clerk’s office for an hour. If you have one of those callings, you have a built-in hideout.

• The Polite Dawdler: Wanders around until class has begun, and is then too courteous to interrupt the class by entering late. The only option? Head home.

• The Minister: (Super effective, warm and fuzzy.) Finds someone who needs love, support, or a listening ear, and engages in a deep conversation that lasts precisely 50 minutes. Because, of course, that conversation couldn’t possibly happen after church, or Tuesday at lunch.

• The Justifier: Employs simple logic. Obviously, when we moved to a two-hour block from a three-hour block, we learned that Sunday School, Priesthood, Releif Society and Young Women are only half as important as we thought they were. Hence, not a big deal.

• The Fount of Knowledge: Hasn’t learned anything new in years from 2nd hour. Would be better served studying quietly at home.

• The COVID Casualty: Got in the habit of staying home during the pandemic. Manages to drag themselves back to Sacrament, but can’t quite last the duration of the block.

Sure, I’m being facetious (and a bit cynical), but I’ve seen it. And done it. I imagine you’ve seen it, too.

I’m confident that none of you recognize yourself in any of these descriptions because you’re always ready and willing to get the most out of 2nd hour. You know that it’s important. You understand that having half as much class time means that it is actually twice as important. It’s too essential to pull a 2nd hour Houdini.

The modified temple recommend questions give us a clue: Question 8: “Do you strive to keep the Sabbath day holy, both at home and at church; attend your meetings; prepare for and worthily partake of the sacrament; and live your life in harmony with the laws and commandments of the gospel?” (link)

There’s an “s” in there, as in “…attend your meetings…”

When the two-hour block was announced in 2018, Elder Quentin Cook described the new schedule, then offered this: “Under the bishop’s direction, strengthened elders quorums and Relief Societies are focused on the purpose and divinely appointed responsibilities of the Church and helping members make and keep sacred covenants.” (link)

That is the hope. Some Sunday School classes are amazing. Some aren’t. Same with Priesthood and Relief Society meetings. That doesn’t matter. It is our responsibility to show up. Sometimes that requires figuring out how to get something out of it, anyway. Whether that means adding to the discussion, pursuing our own studies, or quietly listening, thinking, and seeking the Spirit, we can make it a productive 50 minutes.

My philosophy as a dad raising kids needs to apply to me, even now: “The odds of feeling the Spirit are higher at church than staying home watching a football game or taking a nap.”

A final thought: Maybe you don’t always need to go to 2nd hour for you. Maybe, just maybe, it isn’t all about you. Perhaps someone (like me) needs to hear something that you have to say. Maybe a comment or an experience you share could touch the heart of someone who is searching for peace, hope or knowledge. The odds of that happening – if you go Houdini – are exactly zero.