I want to talk about three categories of sinners, or perhaps, categories of repenters.
Vilest of Sinners
If there is an advantage to falling into this category, it is that you know you need to repent. How sad to believe the "all" does not apply to one's self, to forgo the opportunity to improve. Those who violate the Ten Commandments generally are in this category. A young woman once said, "People will be surprised by what keeps them out of heaven." The scriptures (see Matt. 7:22-23) seem to agree. Some of the Ten Commandments are so obvious and easy for the average person to keep, we often forget the subtler ways to break the others. The hardest commandment to keep, in my opinion, is the first: No other gods before God. Anything that interferes with our relationship with our Father in heaven, or supplants Him in our affections, becomes a violation of the first commandment. It is easy to break the second—cars and boats and houses and other expensive toys become idols. The names of Deity are bandied about carelessly today, and I am glad to say I wince a little more than I used to when I hear such language.
The young woman speaking about being kept out of heaven had reference to the fourth commandment, to keep the Sabbath Day holy. It is very easy to slip into worldly behaviors on this day, to consider it just another day for laundry or shopping or playing. I would rather be alone on Sunday if I cannot find company who will keep this commandment after Church. Friends can help the process of "always [having] his Spirit to be with [me]," which is the main reason we attend Church meetings in the first place.
Honor thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee. Bill Cosby might interpret that promise to mean respecting parents' wishes will keep them from losing their tempers and slaying you. I wonder, as I have seen elderly relatives do genealogy and family history research, if their lives are being preserved because family history is the epitome of keeping this commandment. Those beyond the veil must be praying fervently for their lives to be preserved until they can finish assignments, perform ordinances, and pass on the torch.
Thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not commit adultery—these two rules are linked. The portals of entry and exit in this mortal life are guarded by the strictest of commandments. Alma lists these sins as second only to the unpardonable sin (Alma 39:5). They are linked in the body; testosterone increases aggression and intensifies the capacity for lust. James 4:1: "From whence come wars and fightings among you? come they not hence, even of your lusts that war in your members?" Indeed, lust sees people as disposable objects; violence merely follows through with the mindset. Throughout the scriptures, these two sins and all their variations are co-morbid. The hints of a sex industry in the Book of Mormon ("...she did steal away the hearts of many...") are followed by a hundred pages of non-stop war. David's life reads like a soap opera; he was denied the privilege of building the Temple as a resting place for the Ark because of his violent life.
Thou shalt not steal is a rule that would save America billions of dollars a year if we would abide by it. Closely linked are the commandments to tell the truth and not covet. Coveting denotes deep ingratitude, a sin in itself. Coveting impels theft and lying; theft requires dishonesty. Dishonesty seems to be the first character trait acquired by anyone seeking to circumvent the law of the harvest. "Wo unto the liar, for he shall be thrust down to hell" (2Ne. 9:34). To enter heaven, one must be thoroughly honest. "I am the...truth..." said Jesus Christ.
After seeing the Ten Commandments spelled out, and seeing myself in them, I am even more amazed at how forgiving the Lord is. Instead of casting us off, he COMMANDS us to repent, so that we can be healed, forgiven, and brought home again, even after all the mischief described above. But most people are not embroiled in gross or grievous iniquity.
Ninety and Nine
Each week we attend sacrament meeting. Those in attendance may not be witnessing miracles, but they are also not breaking major commandments. They are in a middle of the road place, a kind of long plateau where Elder Maxwell's "reasonable righteousness" is the watchword for life. Imperfections are there, but they are well-managed for the most part. These rank-and-file members hold Temple recommends, and use them often. They feel the gravity of the world and its temptations, along with the upward pull of the Lord. These people desire a seat in the kingdom, and the sacrament is where we sit down together at the table, as a family, and learn table manners. We repent of our shallowness and petty sins. It is not enough to forsake murder; we must also forgive and love those who hurt us. It is not enough to be faithful to our spouse physically; we must also be chaste in thought and feeling. It is not enough not to steal; we must also cultivate gratitude for what we have, and be generous despite the financial pinch. Outward observance begins to be coupled with inward observance, and these "ninety and nine" sheep also look out for those who have strayed far afield.
Of course, "we all like sheep have gone astray." It is dangerous to be in this middle place if we assume that we are better than gross sinners, or that we would not be equally lost without the Savior. Grace is dependent upon loving God, and upon not denying His power (Moroni 10:32-33). Denying that Jesus is keeping you afloat at your current level of righteousness via grace is a quick route to sin. That is not to say that there is no work involved; bread requires work. From plowing to planting to watering to harvest to threshing to grinding to baking to chewing, bread represents work. And our own personal efforts are required to get us onto this plateau. The first sacrament emblem is bread, and work is what we demonstrate our willingness to perform when we partake of it: "...they are willing to take upon them the name of thy Son, and always remember him and keep his commandments which he has given them..." (D&C 20:77).
Bread is tasty, but the first thing I crave when I have a mouthful of dry bread to chew is liquid refreshment to easy the process. And that is what we get. Jesus gave his disciples wine to wash down the bread He gave them at the last supper. We drink water. In any case, the prayer on the water reflects this: "...they may witness unto thee, O God, the Eternal Father, that they do always remember him..." When the work of keeping His commandments and taking His name upon us is too hard, we can still "always remember him," and receive a portion of His Spirit. We still have access to grace. Just as liquid makes eating bread into a manageable and even joyful task, so grace makes the difficult work of keeping the commandments possible.
Sanctified
The D&C distinguishes between "the church," and "those who are sanctified" (20:33-34). I suggest that the distinction between these two groups is comparable to the people of Alma before they were delivered from the Lamanites, and after they were delivered from the Lamanites. "And now it came to pass that the burdens which were laid upon Alma and his brethren were made light; yea, the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord" (Mosiah 24:15). Notice that they are still carrying their burdens, but the Lord is giving them grace, the enabling, strengthening power to carry their burdens with ease. Then the complete removal of the burdens:
"And it came to pass that so great was their faith and their patience that the voice of the Lord came unto them again, saying: Be of good comfort, for on the morrow I will deliver you out of bondage...And Alma and his people departed into the wilderness; and when they had traveled all day they pitched their tents in a valley...Yea, and in the valley...they poured out their thanks to God because he had been merciful unto them, and eased their burdens, and had delivered them out of bondage; for they were in bondage, and none could deliver them except it were the Lord their God" (Mosiah 24:16, 20-21).
We can compare their bondage to the impulse to commit sin, or to addiction. It is one thing to feel the desire to sin, yet receive grace to completely resist temptation. It is even better to be delivered from the desire to commit sin at all. This may sound amazing, but the Lord tells Alma the Younger to "marvel not," that ALL people must experience this mighty change of heart. "Yea, we believe all the words which thou hast spoken unto us; and also, we know of their surety and truth, because of the Spirit of the Lord Omnipotent, which has wrought a mighty change in us, or in our hearts, that we have no more disposition to do evil, but to do good continually" (Mosiah 5:2).
I recently heard a well-intentioned speaker conflate this mighty change with the enthusiasm and renewed determination a good fireside speaker can instill. Far from being a mutable or temporary change of mood, "Please note that the conversion described in these verses is mighty, not minor—a spiritual rebirth and fundamental change of what we feel and desire, what we think and do, and what we are. Indeed, the essence of the gospel of Jesus Christ entails a fundamental and permanent change in our very nature made possible through our reliance upon “the merits, and mercy, and grace of the Holy Messiah” (2 Nephi 2:8). As we choose to follow the Master, we choose to be changed—to be spiritually reborn" (Elder David A. Bednar, Ye Must Be Born Again, April 2007 General Conference). This change is akin to waking up one morning loathing chocolate and craving broccoli. That is not a change one can "practice" or "work on;" it is so radical that one might feel the need to receive a brain-scan after it had occurred.
Despite being radical, it is also seamless enough that those who are not paying attention may miss the fact that it has occurred. 3Ne. 9:20 tells us that the Lamanites who experienced this mighty change of heart "new it not." They were unaware of it. Indeed, you would have to be exposed to old temptations and realize you were not tempted by them anymore to know the change had taken place.
If we no longer have the desire to sin, what do we have to repent of?
"Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah; and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of" (Gen. 22:2). In order to receive this level of grace, this sanctification, this mighty change of heart, we must "offer for a sacrifice unto [Christ] a broken heart and a contrite spirit...And...[come] unto [Christ] with a broken heart and a contrite spirit..." We must also have faith in Christ, and "love God with all your might, mind and strength," (Moroni 10:32), before the change will happen. From that point forward, testing takes on a new hue. Are we really as dedicated as we claim? Is God really first in our affections? Are we really willing to put our most beloved possessions on the altar when God asks us to?
Pride is always a possibility, even for those who have no bodies. Since agency is always a component of our eternal makeup, the option to rebel is also present. This makes our good choices genuinely good, but it leaves us "in peril every hour." What would have happened if Abraham had told the Lord "no" when He asked for Isaac? Abraham was very high; he would have had a great distance to fall off the mountain. It is dangerous to get close to the Lord, because as Heber C. Kimball told the newly-endowed saints, "You can't sin so cheap no more." Sanctification is a high-stakes blessing; rebellion afterward is rebelling against greater light and knowledge. Deliverance from baser temptations does not mean deliverance from trials and testing. (If anything, it means we are more responsible to help those around us, unburdened as we are, and also that we will be hit with more Abrahamic trials.)
Brigham Young taught, "We must have our day of trial—an opportunity to become acquainted with the bitter and the sweet. We are so organized as to be able to choose or to refuse. We can take the downward road that leads to destruction, or the road that leads to life. We can constantly act upon the principles that tend to death, or refuse them and act upon the principles that pertain to life and salvation. This is a day of trial; our faith and patience can now be tried: now is the time for your fortitude and integrity to be tried. Let the trials come; for if we should be so unspeakably happy as to obtain a crown of eternal life, we shall be like gold tried seven times in the fire. Let the fiery furnace burn, and the afflictions come, and the temptations be presented;—if we wish to be crowned with crowns of glory and exalted to dwell with our elder brother Jesus Christ, we must choose the good and refuse the evil" (Journal of Discourses, Vol. 7, p.203).
Ninety and Nine
Each week we attend sacrament meeting. Those in attendance may not be witnessing miracles, but they are also not breaking major commandments. They are in a middle of the road place, a kind of long plateau where Elder Maxwell's "reasonable righteousness" is the watchword for life. Imperfections are there, but they are well-managed for the most part. These rank-and-file members hold Temple recommends, and use them often. They feel the gravity of the world and its temptations, along with the upward pull of the Lord. These people desire a seat in the kingdom, and the sacrament is where we sit down together at the table, as a family, and learn table manners. We repent of our shallowness and petty sins. It is not enough to forsake murder; we must also forgive and love those who hurt us. It is not enough to be faithful to our spouse physically; we must also be chaste in thought and feeling. It is not enough not to steal; we must also cultivate gratitude for what we have, and be generous despite the financial pinch. Outward observance begins to be coupled with inward observance, and these "ninety and nine" sheep also look out for those who have strayed far afield.
Of course, "we all like sheep have gone astray." It is dangerous to be in this middle place if we assume that we are better than gross sinners, or that we would not be equally lost without the Savior. Grace is dependent upon loving God, and upon not denying His power (Moroni 10:32-33). Denying that Jesus is keeping you afloat at your current level of righteousness via grace is a quick route to sin. That is not to say that there is no work involved; bread requires work. From plowing to planting to watering to harvest to threshing to grinding to baking to chewing, bread represents work. And our own personal efforts are required to get us onto this plateau. The first sacrament emblem is bread, and work is what we demonstrate our willingness to perform when we partake of it: "...they are willing to take upon them the name of thy Son, and always remember him and keep his commandments which he has given them..." (D&C 20:77).
Bread is tasty, but the first thing I crave when I have a mouthful of dry bread to chew is liquid refreshment to easy the process. And that is what we get. Jesus gave his disciples wine to wash down the bread He gave them at the last supper. We drink water. In any case, the prayer on the water reflects this: "...they may witness unto thee, O God, the Eternal Father, that they do always remember him..." When the work of keeping His commandments and taking His name upon us is too hard, we can still "always remember him," and receive a portion of His Spirit. We still have access to grace. Just as liquid makes eating bread into a manageable and even joyful task, so grace makes the difficult work of keeping the commandments possible.
Sanctified
The D&C distinguishes between "the church," and "those who are sanctified" (20:33-34). I suggest that the distinction between these two groups is comparable to the people of Alma before they were delivered from the Lamanites, and after they were delivered from the Lamanites. "And now it came to pass that the burdens which were laid upon Alma and his brethren were made light; yea, the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord" (Mosiah 24:15). Notice that they are still carrying their burdens, but the Lord is giving them grace, the enabling, strengthening power to carry their burdens with ease. Then the complete removal of the burdens:
"And it came to pass that so great was their faith and their patience that the voice of the Lord came unto them again, saying: Be of good comfort, for on the morrow I will deliver you out of bondage...And Alma and his people departed into the wilderness; and when they had traveled all day they pitched their tents in a valley...Yea, and in the valley...they poured out their thanks to God because he had been merciful unto them, and eased their burdens, and had delivered them out of bondage; for they were in bondage, and none could deliver them except it were the Lord their God" (Mosiah 24:16, 20-21).
We can compare their bondage to the impulse to commit sin, or to addiction. It is one thing to feel the desire to sin, yet receive grace to completely resist temptation. It is even better to be delivered from the desire to commit sin at all. This may sound amazing, but the Lord tells Alma the Younger to "marvel not," that ALL people must experience this mighty change of heart. "Yea, we believe all the words which thou hast spoken unto us; and also, we know of their surety and truth, because of the Spirit of the Lord Omnipotent, which has wrought a mighty change in us, or in our hearts, that we have no more disposition to do evil, but to do good continually" (Mosiah 5:2).
I recently heard a well-intentioned speaker conflate this mighty change with the enthusiasm and renewed determination a good fireside speaker can instill. Far from being a mutable or temporary change of mood, "Please note that the conversion described in these verses is mighty, not minor—a spiritual rebirth and fundamental change of what we feel and desire, what we think and do, and what we are. Indeed, the essence of the gospel of Jesus Christ entails a fundamental and permanent change in our very nature made possible through our reliance upon “the merits, and mercy, and grace of the Holy Messiah” (2 Nephi 2:8). As we choose to follow the Master, we choose to be changed—to be spiritually reborn" (Elder David A. Bednar, Ye Must Be Born Again, April 2007 General Conference). This change is akin to waking up one morning loathing chocolate and craving broccoli. That is not a change one can "practice" or "work on;" it is so radical that one might feel the need to receive a brain-scan after it had occurred.
Despite being radical, it is also seamless enough that those who are not paying attention may miss the fact that it has occurred. 3Ne. 9:20 tells us that the Lamanites who experienced this mighty change of heart "new it not." They were unaware of it. Indeed, you would have to be exposed to old temptations and realize you were not tempted by them anymore to know the change had taken place.
If we no longer have the desire to sin, what do we have to repent of?
"Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah; and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of" (Gen. 22:2). In order to receive this level of grace, this sanctification, this mighty change of heart, we must "offer for a sacrifice unto [Christ] a broken heart and a contrite spirit...And...[come] unto [Christ] with a broken heart and a contrite spirit..." We must also have faith in Christ, and "love God with all your might, mind and strength," (Moroni 10:32), before the change will happen. From that point forward, testing takes on a new hue. Are we really as dedicated as we claim? Is God really first in our affections? Are we really willing to put our most beloved possessions on the altar when God asks us to?
Pride is always a possibility, even for those who have no bodies. Since agency is always a component of our eternal makeup, the option to rebel is also present. This makes our good choices genuinely good, but it leaves us "in peril every hour." What would have happened if Abraham had told the Lord "no" when He asked for Isaac? Abraham was very high; he would have had a great distance to fall off the mountain. It is dangerous to get close to the Lord, because as Heber C. Kimball told the newly-endowed saints, "You can't sin so cheap no more." Sanctification is a high-stakes blessing; rebellion afterward is rebelling against greater light and knowledge. Deliverance from baser temptations does not mean deliverance from trials and testing. (If anything, it means we are more responsible to help those around us, unburdened as we are, and also that we will be hit with more Abrahamic trials.)
Brigham Young taught, "We must have our day of trial—an opportunity to become acquainted with the bitter and the sweet. We are so organized as to be able to choose or to refuse. We can take the downward road that leads to destruction, or the road that leads to life. We can constantly act upon the principles that tend to death, or refuse them and act upon the principles that pertain to life and salvation. This is a day of trial; our faith and patience can now be tried: now is the time for your fortitude and integrity to be tried. Let the trials come; for if we should be so unspeakably happy as to obtain a crown of eternal life, we shall be like gold tried seven times in the fire. Let the fiery furnace burn, and the afflictions come, and the temptations be presented;—if we wish to be crowned with crowns of glory and exalted to dwell with our elder brother Jesus Christ, we must choose the good and refuse the evil" (Journal of Discourses, Vol. 7, p.203).
