"Let me use an example from what is often considered by foes, and even by
some friends, as the most unsavory moment in the entire Book of Mormon.
I choose it precisely because there is so much in it that has given
offense to many. It is pretty much a bitter cup all the way around.
"I speak of Nephi's obligation to slay Laban in order to preserve a record, save a people, and ultimately lead to the restoration of the gospel in the dispensation of the fulness of times. How much is hanging in the balance as Nephi stands over the drunken and adversarial Laban I cannot say, but it is a very great deal indeed.
"The only problem is that we know this, but Nephi does not. And regardless of how much is at stake, how can he do this thing? He is a good person, perhaps even a well-educated person. He has been taught from the very summit of Sinai "Thou shalt not kill." And he has made gospel covenants.
"I was constrained by the Spirit that I should kill Laban; but...I shrunk and would that I might not slay him" (1 Nephi 4:10). A bitter test? A desire to shrink? Sound familiar? We don't know why those plates could not have been obtained some other way—perhaps accidentally left at the plate polishers one night or maybe falling out the back of Laban's chariot on a Sabbath afternoon.
"For that matter, why didn't Nephi just leave this story out of the book altogether? Why didn't he say something like, "And after much effort and anguish of spirit, I did obtain the plates of Laban and did depart into the wilderness unto the tent of my father?" At the very least he might have buried the account somewhere in the Isaiah chapters, thus guaranteeing that it would have gone undiscovered up to this very day.
"But there it is, squarely in the beginning of the book—page 8—where even the most casual reader will see it and must deal with it. It is not intended that either Nephi or we be spared the struggle of this account.
"I believe that story was placed in the very opening verses of a 531-page book and then told in painfully specific detail in order to focus every reader of that record on the absolutely fundamental gospel issue of obedience and submission to the communicated will of the Lord. If Nephi cannot yield to this terribly painful command, if he cannot bring himself to obey, then it is entirely probable that he can never succeed or survive in the tasks that lie just ahead.
"'I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded' (1 Nephi 3:7). I confess that I wince a little when I hear that promise quoted so casually among us. Jesus knew what that kind of commitment would entail, and so now does Nephi. And so will a host of others before it is over. That vow took Christ to the cross on Calvary, and it remains at the heart of every Christian covenant. 'I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded.' Well, we shall see." (The Will of the Father in All Things, Jeffrey R. Holland, talk given at Brigham Young University, 17 Jan. 1989.)
My point in quoting this giant swath of Elder Holland's talk is to frame the idea I want to convey about God and Christ. Just as we blithely quote 1Ne 3:7, not cognizant of the full import of what we are saying, I also think that we have a similar problem with somnambulism when we use the phrase "like God." It is a truism to to say we do not know all that entails, but there are parts of it that even we can begin to comprehend, yet also remain unconscious of. We think of God and Christ enthroned and perfected, wielding power and loving the billions who inhabit innumerable earths like this one. We also imagine the absence of imperfections in character, mind, and body, and that is mainly what we refer to in Sunday school when we use the phrases "like God," or "more like God."
During his interview with the angel who guided Nephi through his vision, he asked Nephi, "Knowest thou the condescension of God?" (1Ne. 11:16). We usually think of condescension in a negative light—equals looking down their noses at each other with an inflated sense of superiority offend us. Just how far did Jesus descend? Nephi was given a dirty, repugnant, difficult chore by the Lord, and he obeyed. Jesus sank even lower at the request of His Father—far lower than anyone ever has. When He wrought out the Atonement, the One who had been above all things sank below all things. The Gospel writers depict Jesus praying in agony throughout the ordeal, from beginning to end, continuously turned to and addressing His Father in heaven. We do not get to hear or see the Father in the narrative, but Abraham's sacrifice of Isaac gives us a glimpse into what it must have been like for Him as well. Not only did Jesus abase Himself and put everything on the altar; John 3:16 reminds us that His Father was also sacrificing Someone, putting the very best thing He had on the altar as well. They both sacrificed to their uttermost limits. "Knowest thou the condescension of God?" No, I think we are among the blissful ignorant, for the most part.
And this sacrifice falls inside the definition of "like God." To be like Him is to be able and willing to put our most valuable possession on the altar simply because it is the right thing to do. Moroni describes Jesus as speaking "in plain humility" after His resurrection (Ether 12:39). It almost seems blasphemous to mention; a humble deity? Why retain this virtue? Apparently, at least, is still needed. Patience with us, His wayward children, surely embodies humility; and the crucial moment of the plan was the Atonement, a scraping, bowing, rock-bottom burden. It is worth noting that Jesus suffered more than anyone, and deserved it less than anyone, that is, not at all. Irony and contradiction beyond reason infected that bitter cup He accepted.
It is easy to forget, in describing His suffering and death, that OUR sins were what He was carrying. We are enjoying fair weather and pleasant, congenial moments interspersed with joy, specifically because of what He went through. Blood symbolizes death; oil, or the application of it, represents life. Jesus' title of Messiah, Christ, means "The Anointed One." He bought the judgement seat with His blood, and bought us with it too. I cannot pin it on any scripture, but I am more and more convinced that our little sacrifice and His massive sacrifice connect us somehow, keep us attached to Jesus.
I have quoted this passage of scripture before, D&C 138: 12-16, but I will quote it again. Joseph F. Smith saw a vision of the spirit world, and there were multitudes of spirits awaiting the arrival of Jesus Christ after His death: "And there were gathered together in one place an innumerable company of the spirits of the just, who had been faithful in the testimony of Jesus while they lived in mortality; And who had offered sacrifice in the similitude of the great sacrifice of the Son of God, and had suffered tribulation in their Redeemer’s name. All these had departed the mortal life, firm in the hope of a glorious resurrection, through the grace of God the Father and his Only Begotten Son, Jesus Christ. I beheld that they were filled with joy and gladness, and were rejoicing together because the day of their deliverance was at hand. They were assembled awaiting the advent of the Son of God into the spirit world..." (my emphasis).
Notice that a critical difference between the candidates for Celestial life and all others is listed here, rather than in D&C 76. It is easy to scan the description of Terrestrial inhabitants and wonder why they are excluded if they were among "the honorable men of the earth." But being good is not enough; they lacked this one quality of God that shines above all others, that of absolute obedience manifest as a 100% sacrifice. (100% of what the individual can bear, not what Jesus or Abraham could; the math of the widow's mite applies here too, I believe. In my opinion, this kind of sacrifice is THE qualification for exaltation; a person who makes such a sacrifice is a viable spirit, a candidate for exaltation from that point forward.) The willingness and ability to shoulder enormous, distasteful burdens distinguishes God from those who do not make it to where He is. We ought to keep this in mind when we use the phrase "like God."
Here is a post-script dedicated to a friend who responded to some of the ideas I have written above with trepidation ("People obeying like that will go around doing all sorts of crazy things" was her general objection. I will respond with another quote from Elder Holland's talk:
"As Elder Neal A. Maxwell wrote recently, 'In today's society, at the mere mention of the words obedience and submissiveness hackles rise and people are put on nervous alert...People promptly furnish examples from secular history to illustrate how obedience to unwise authority and servility to bad leaders have caused much human misery and suffering. It is difficult, therefore, to get a hearing for what the words obedience and submissiveness really mean—even when the clarifying phrase, "to God," is attached.'" Excuses will not fly. I hope knowing the price of exaltation does not give us too much fear; faith in Christ and His Atonement give me confidence. He suffered through His ordeal alone so that He could attend each of us in our smaller Gethsemanes.
