A Two-edged Sword and the TSA

In Hebrews 4:12 it says that “the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword.” For at least a moment this week it appeared that the US Government agreed that the word of God could be a dangerous weapon.

Over the past several months I’ve gotten pretty good at getting through airport security. My first trip I lost my toothpaste because it was too big. I’m a quick learner. Thirty flights later I had maintained a perfect record of not hearing the dreaded words-- need a bag check! So I was surprised on Monday when the attendant with the blue surgical gloves pulled my roll-along off the conveyor and asked me to follow her.

“Please don’t reach over and take anything out of your bag,” she warned me as she began to unzip one of the pockets. “Is there anything sharp or dangerous in your bag?” she inquired, gingerly pulling open the first pocket. Nothing there but one pair of white running socks (and yes mom they were clean though they won’t be on the trip home). “Nope,” I replied and looked at my watch still wondering what had caught their attention.

By now a second TSA attendant had joined the hunt. In the next outer pocket they found a ballpoint pen without a cap. There was that one movie where a girl jabbed her kidnapper with a pen on the plane. Apparently these two hadn’t seen that movie because they skipped right over the pen.

As they flipped back the cover of the main compartment I was glad that I had packed my more private attire on the bottom of the bag this time. Clearly visible were my plaid pajama bottoms, a BYU t-shirt and my journal and scriptures that I had tossed in after using them the night before.

The attendant quickly found the suspicious item. Pointing at the scriptures, though being careful not to touch them, she asked, “What’s this?”

At this point I have to apologize to my missionary nephews, I know that I should have said, “In every dispensation God has called prophets. This book contains the writings of those prophets. It includes the writings of prophets that lived anciently here on the American continent. We call that portion The Book of Mormon. Would it be okay if I had two young men bring a copy of the book to your home to teach you more about it?”

Alas, all that came out was, “Those are my scriptures.” The attendant picked it up, unsnapped the cover and flipped through a few pages. The second attendant whispered, “It’s a bible!” The first attendant nodded professionally and placed the scriptures back in my bag with the rest of my decidedly unexciting stuff.

“You can go,” she said and waived me on with a weapon “sharper than any two-edged sword.”