(Here is yet another letter, written over a year ago, to the same friend/mentor. I post it here for my convenience. I tell him about having taught Elder's Quorum that day, and an additional symbolic meaning of baptism that had recently come to my attention—it symbolizes our trajectory through eternity, the plan of salvation. Additional thoughts added today are in brackets.)
As promised, here is the essence of my Elder's Quorum lesson:
I
have only physically baptized one person in my entire life. She was a
wealthy woman who felt an emptiness in her life, and had found the
Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to fill the emptiness. She
told her online friends that she was "doing the Mormon thing."
My
mission companion and I had been told that showing the baptismal font
to the prospective convert was a good idea, so we took her to the part
of the stake center where the font was housed.
As I parted the
curtain that separated the font from the rest of the room, the lady I
was going to baptize in it looked in over my shoulder. There was a
spider crawling in it. A precocious young man darted in front of me, saw
the spider, and declared, "Unholy water!" He left as quickly as he had
arrived.
Our
investigator expressed her apprehension at the thought of submitting to
baptism. When we asked her what the source of her misgivings was, she
declared that it was scary that "you drown people."
I grew up in
the Church, had been baptized at eight years of age, and took the
ordinance for granted—"I can't wait until I'm eight/for then I'll be
baptized you see" goes the primary song. But to an objective observer,
the idea of being immersed backwards in water seemed scary. It had never
occurred to me that there is a risk involved in baptism. Being dipped
backwards in water is a very compromising position. If the baptizer
chose to, he could hold you under water and drown you.
After she
was baptized, the lady we were teaching had a message for me to deliver
to someone else, with me as her representative. As far as my ability to
deliver a message on her behalf, she was not concerned. "I trust you,"
she said. That vote of confidence touched me,
but only later did I see the connection to baptism. If you are being
dipped backwards under water, you must have implicit trust in the one
performing the ordinance.
Birth, bath, burial and resurrection,
are all legitimate interpretations of the symbolism you can derive from
baptism. There is another, broader meaning to the ordinance, one that
recently came to my attention.
Baptism means to dunk, or immerse,
but art and film depictions of the ordinance do not portray that small
moment when the person being baptized is under the water. What is
happening under there? The person being baptized and the one performing
the ordinance stand together in the water, equals seeing the same light,
hearing and smelling and breathing from the same air. But once below
the surface, the one receiving the ordinance cannot breath. Hearing is
distorted, smell and taste are impossible, touch is limited to the
generic sensation of cool wetness, and sight is
obscured at best, or absent when eyes shut in response to the water.
All five senses are muffled and diminished in their effectiveness. Even
our sense of up and down is confounded.
The words of the
ordinance begin by naming the person to be baptized, but they also
explain who the baptizer represents: "...in the name of the Father, and
of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost..." The entire Godhead is represented
by one person.
Where did we begin, before the creation? We were
in the presence of God. We enjoyed his light, his love, and our Elder
Brother, Jesus Christ, was also there. Our perspective was from the top
of a mountain which we had spent countless eons climbing, "receiving our
first lessons" and subsequent ones from all-knowing Parents. (Can you
imagine living with almighty, all-knowing beings and having less than a
college education in philosophy and the sciences? I cannot. [I imagine the smartest mortal being a mental pygmy in comparison to anyone who had lived in the presence of God for millenia.])
Then
a plan was presented, and it was so intimidating
that one third of us opted not to go with it. What was the threat?
Spiritual death—falling from our exalted stations, leaving God's
presence and losing our memory of Him behind a veil—and physical death,
losing our bodies immediately after we had acquired them. How did we
have the courage to face these immense obstacles?
Rev. 12:11
"And they (we) overcame him (Satan) by the blood of the Lamb, and by
the word of their testimony; and they loved not their lives unto the
death."
We had courage to face the enormous risks of this mortal
experience because we trusted Jesus' commitment to be our Savior, our
Rescuer. "Here am I; send me." He agreed to get us out of this dark and
dreary existence in one piece. Yes, we agreed to descend into the
murkiness of life, but in the eternal scheme, it was only a brief blink
of an eye: "Thine adversity and thine affliction
shall be but as small moment."
The Atonement is the way God
holds onto us, binds us to Him. Jesus holds on to us; He is bound to our
Father; they will get us out of this, and send the Spirit to guide us
as their personal representative. Together they will get us back up to
where we started, resurrected, reunited, At-One with our Heavenly
Parents again.
But our participation is also required. God holds onto us, but we must also hold onto Him. How?
Adam
was taught by messengers how to get back to the presence of God: Faith
in Jesus Christ (this engenders hope, charity, and general good works);
Repentance (stop doing bad, start doing good); Baptism (immersion in
water as a sign of covenant to always do the will of God and remember
His Son); and the baptism of the Holy Ghost (actively receiving and
following Him back into the presence of God). These principles
constitute the way in which we reach for and grasp God's redemptive
hand.
They allow us to access the justifying, sanctifying, purifying power of
the Atonement.
The ordinance of baptism symbolically
encapsulates the plan of salvation. We begin in the presence of God,
submit to His will and trust Him to get us out of this mess, and
hopefully reemerge with rejoicing, and warm embraces with those we
previously left before we started a new phase of existence. And there is
a spider lurking down here, but we need not fear, if we hold on to God.
He will bring us up again.
Are there any mysteries beyond the
first principles and ordinances of the Gospel? Yes, but if you review
the scriptures and other ordinances, you begin to understand that 1. The
"mysteries" are rearrangements of these original principles and
ordinances, and 2. Your introduction into these mysteries depends on how
successfully you live and apply them.
(That is the essence of my lesson to the Elder's quorum today; the following are supplemental
insights and quotations.)
Alma 26:22 "Yea, he that repenteth and
exerciseth faith, and bringeth forth good works, and prayeth
continually without ceasing—unto such it is given to know the mysteries
of God; yea, unto such it shall be given to reveal things which never
have been revealed..."
1Ne. 10:18 and 19 "if it so be that they
repent and come unto him....the mysteries of God shall be unfolded unto
them, by the power of the Holy Ghost..." Our application of the simple
principles qualifies us to enjoy deeper insights and knowledge, which
the Lord is eager to bless us with (D&C 121:33).
Just as fire
is not always destructive, darkness is not always evil [at least, not without good uses]. The Jews were
descended from slaves who probably welcomed sundown as a relief from the
burdens of the day, a chance to interact with family. The Jewish
Sabbath begins on Friday night, at sundown. Night was more sacred than
day in Jewish tradition; the sun obscures the sky and
directs our eyes to the mundane temporal tasks, while the night unveils
the wonders of eternity to the eye and the mind. The sun points our
eyes downward, while its absence allows us to look up into infinite
wonders.
The old Temple is constructed to reflect this. The
outward ordinances of sacrifice were performed by Aaronic Priests, but
the Holy of Holies was hidden from all but the Melchizedek priesthood. 2
Chronicles 6: 1, 2 "The Lord hath said that he would dwell in the thick darkness....But
I have built an house of habitation for thee, and a place for thy
dwelling for ever." The Holy of Holies was completely dark, separated
from all outward sources of light. When the high priest entered on the
Day of Atonement, the light of the Lord's presence would illuminate the
dark room as they conversed.
A pioneer who experienced
immense hardship as a member of the Martin and Willie handcart
companies said, "We suffered beyond anything you can imagine and many
died of exposure
and starvation, but did you ever hear a survivor of that company utter a
word of criticism? Not one of that company ever apostatized or left the
Church because every one of us came through with the absolute knowledge
that God lives for we became acquainted with him in our extremities."
The darkest times are the moments when Jesus arrives in person.
Mosiah
24:13, 14 "And it came to pass that the voice of the Lord came to them
in their afflictions, saying: Lift up your heads and be of good
comfort... I will...ease the burdens which are put upon your shoulders,
that even you cannot feel them upon your backs...and this will I do
that...ye may know of a surety that I, the Lord God, do visit my people
in their afflictions."
In a quiet moment, a group asked Brigham Young, “President
Young, why is it that the Lord is not always at our side promoting
universal happiness and seeing to it that the needs of people are met,
caring especially for His Saints? Why is it so difficult at times?” His response was instructive:
“Because man is destined to be a God, and he must be
able to demonstrate that he is for God and to develop his own resources
so that he can act independently and yet humbly.” Then he added, “It is
the way it is because we must learn to be righteous in the dark.”
(Brigham Young’s Office Journal, 28 January 1857; emphasis added.)
In
this small moment of submersion and darkness, we can still find the
Light of the world, and he is with us, holding our hand to bring us back
up again.
That's the guts of what I shared with you, and my
Elder's quorum today, and I hope you keep sharing those simple
principles with us in your class.
This blog is a kind of Encyclopedia Eclectica of Jesse Campbell's opinions as of today. They may change; I'm still learning and growing. I'm a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but the content of this website is my responsibility. The dark background is easier on the eyes; the lack of color is not to be dreary. Search the term "update" to see changes to previous posts. Contact me at jessencampbell@yahoo.com. "Out of my brain I made his sermon flow…” Giles Fletcher, 1593.
Monday, September 24, 2012
The "Why" of Ordinances
[The following is a letter I wrote to a teacher/mentor/friend of mine over a year ago. I cut and paste it hear for my convenience.]
As a missionary, I had that same question put to me—why do we perform ordinances? I heard myself say that they make us like Jesus—take us down the same path he trod. I have since ruminated on the question, and the answer I have so far has fleshed out a bit.
I have heard it said that the “whats” of the Gospel are milk, but the “whys” constitute the meat. Having made that distinction, I would like to try to get into the meatier subject of why God requires us to participate in ordinances.
1. Order and Laws
As a missionary, I had that same question put to me—why do we perform ordinances? I heard myself say that they make us like Jesus—take us down the same path he trod. I have since ruminated on the question, and the answer I have so far has fleshed out a bit.
I have heard it said that the “whats” of the Gospel are milk, but the “whys” constitute the meat. Having made that distinction, I would like to try to get into the meatier subject of why God requires us to participate in ordinances.
1. Order and Laws
God
operates within a framework of laws, inside “a house of order.” Brigham Young
taught, “Our religion is nothing more or less than the true order of heaven—the
system of laws by which the gods and the angels are governed….There is no being
in all the eternities but what is governed by law.”
“The
Gospel…that has been revealed is a plan or system of laws and ordinances….The
laws of the Gospel are neither more nor less than a few of the principles of eternity
revealed to the people, by which they can return to heaven from whence they
came.
“Our
religion…is a system of law and order. [God] has instituted laws and ordinances
for the government and benefit of the children of men, to see if they would
obey them and prove themselves worthy of eternal life by the law of the
celestial worlds” (Discourses of Brigham Young, pg. 1). Ordinances govern us
because there are covenants associated with them.
2. Facilitating Spiritual Rebirth
It seems
to me that God is trying to make us into miniature versions of His Son, Jesus
Christ. Part of that process is ordinances—Jesus submitted to all of the
ordinances we also receive. Joseph Smith said, “If a man gets a fullness of the
priesthood of God, he has to get it in the same way that Jesus Christ obtained
it, and that was by...obeying all the ordinances of the house of the Lord.”
(Documentary History of the Church, Vol. 5, p. 244.)
How do
we grow? We cooperate with God, and he cultivates us as we submit ourselves,
all we have, to Him. Jesus is referred to as the Son of God because he received
not the fullness at first, but grew from grace to grace (D&C 93:12-14). How
much more do we need to grow in that same grace? As a youth, I sang “I am a
child of God,” and therefore found confusion in scriptural passages about “becoming”
sons of God (see Moses 6:68, Moses 7:21, Mosiah 27:25, 3 Ne. 9:17, Moroni 7:48,
Moroni 7:26; John 1:12; D&C 11:30, D&C 34:3, D&C 45:8). We are
children of Heavenly Father, but to get back to Him requires overcoming
spiritual and physical death. Christ becomes our new spiritual father in this
process, and so we are still heirs of His Father. Joseph Smith taught, “Being
born again, comes by the Spirit of God through ordinances.” (History of the
Church, 3:392; from a discourse given by Joseph Smith about July 1839 in
Commerce, Illinois; reported by Willard Richards.)
“The
gospel requires baptism by immersion for the remission of sins, which is the
meaning of the word in the original language—namely, to bury or immerse. … I
further believe in the gift of the Holy Ghost by the laying on of hands, [as
evidenced] by Peter’s preaching on the day of Pentecost, Acts 2:38. You might
as well baptize a bag of sand as a man, if not done in view of the remission of
sins and getting of the Holy Ghost. Baptism by water is but half a baptism, and
is good for nothing without the other half—that is, the baptism of the Holy
Ghost. The Savior says, ‘Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he
cannot enter into the kingdom of God.’ (John 3:5).” (History of the Church 5:499;
punctuation modernized; from a discourse given by Joseph Smith on July 9, 1843,
in Nauvoo, Illinois; reported by Willard Richards).
In the
King Follet Discourse, Joseph also said, “The baptism of water, without the
baptism of fire and the Holy Ghost attending it, is of no use; they are
necessarily and inseparably connected…” (History of the Church,
6:316).
All ordinances essential for salvation include this reception of the Holy Ghost and being more and more reborn, or born again, as part of their ultimate end.
The ordinance of the sacrament is a contract—various parties and their obligations are named, and the reward for compliance on our part is that “we may always have his Spirit to be with [us]” (D&C 20: 77, 79).
In D&C 109, Joseph Smith is offering the dedicatory prayer, which was given to him by revelation. “And do thou grant, Holy Father, that all those who shall worship in this house...may grow up in thee, and receive a fulness of the Holy Ghost...” The culminating, crowning ordinances offered by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints still retain that original objective—being born again, becoming the sons and daughters of God, “by the Spirit of God through ordinances.”
“All covenants, contracts, bonds, obligations, oaths, vows, performances, connections, associations, or expectations, that are not made and entered into and sealed by the Holy Spirit of promise, of him who is anointed, both as well for time and for all eternity, and that too most holy, by revelation and commandment through the medium of mine anointed, whom I have appointed on the earth to hold this power (and I have appointed unto my servant Joseph to hold this power in the last days, and there is never but one on the earth at a time on whom this power and the keys of this priesthood are conferred), are of no efficacy, virtue, or force in and after the resurrection from the dead; for all contracts that are not made unto this end have an end when men are dead” (D&C 132:7). God operates within a system of order, and ordinances formalize our spiritual progress. Ordinances are like mile markers on our road to salvation. We receive them as we become able to keep the covenants associated with them—baptism is administered after age 8, priesthood responsibilities multiply as ability and maturity accrue, and the endowment is reserved for the spiritually mature.
3. To Formalize Jesus’ Ownership or Adoption of Us
All ordinances essential for salvation include this reception of the Holy Ghost and being more and more reborn, or born again, as part of their ultimate end.
The ordinance of the sacrament is a contract—various parties and their obligations are named, and the reward for compliance on our part is that “we may always have his Spirit to be with [us]” (D&C 20: 77, 79).
In D&C 109, Joseph Smith is offering the dedicatory prayer, which was given to him by revelation. “And do thou grant, Holy Father, that all those who shall worship in this house...may grow up in thee, and receive a fulness of the Holy Ghost...” The culminating, crowning ordinances offered by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints still retain that original objective—being born again, becoming the sons and daughters of God, “by the Spirit of God through ordinances.”
“All covenants, contracts, bonds, obligations, oaths, vows, performances, connections, associations, or expectations, that are not made and entered into and sealed by the Holy Spirit of promise, of him who is anointed, both as well for time and for all eternity, and that too most holy, by revelation and commandment through the medium of mine anointed, whom I have appointed on the earth to hold this power (and I have appointed unto my servant Joseph to hold this power in the last days, and there is never but one on the earth at a time on whom this power and the keys of this priesthood are conferred), are of no efficacy, virtue, or force in and after the resurrection from the dead; for all contracts that are not made unto this end have an end when men are dead” (D&C 132:7). God operates within a system of order, and ordinances formalize our spiritual progress. Ordinances are like mile markers on our road to salvation. We receive them as we become able to keep the covenants associated with them—baptism is administered after age 8, priesthood responsibilities multiply as ability and maturity accrue, and the endowment is reserved for the spiritually mature.
3. To Formalize Jesus’ Ownership or Adoption of Us
Obedience
is ownership in heaven, according to Brigham Young:
“What
have you to give for life everlasting? You are your Father's. We cannot own
anything, in the strict sense of the word, until we have power to bring into
existence and hold in existence, independent of all other powers. One will say,
“I have given a thousand dollars towards building up the kingdom of God,” when
strictly he did not own a dollar. You take the money you have in your possession
and put it in another place, or to another use; and though you thus use
millions of gold and other property, unless you do so with that spirit of
charity in which the widow cast in her mite, it will avail you nothing.
“We have
received this and that, but it is not ours; it is committed to us as agents. We
have nothing of our own, and will not have until we have power to sustain our
own lives. You have not power to sustain your own lives, and yet you have done
much. You can own nothing until you have filled your missions on earth, and
gained power with the Almighty, when you will be clothed with glory, power, and
dominion. When the Lord says, ‘This is yours, my son; I give you power to
control all under your jurisdiction;’ then you can consider that your own” (JD
8:118 − p.119, Brigham Young, July 8, 1860). “The Holy Ghost shall be thy
constant companion, and thy scepter will be an unchanging scepter of
righteousness and truth, thy dominion shall be an everlasting dominion, and
without compulsory means it shall flow unto thee forever and ever” (D&C
121:46).
The Lord
frequently refers to us as His throughout the scriptures. If we get into
heaven, it will not be because of our good works; rather, it will be because
everything we have done ads up to a reality that we belong to Jesus, and
therefore he has a claim on us. “…I pray not for the world, but for them which
thou hast given me; for they are thine. And all mine are thine, and thine are
mine; and I am glorified in them… Father, I will that they also, whom thou hast
given me, be with me where I am; that they may behold my glory, which thou hast
given me…” (John 17:9-10, 24). Ordinances are another way to formalize this
belonging to Him—they demonstrate, witness, show that “[we are] willing to keep
His (Jesus Christ’s) commandments which he has given [us].” All our covenants
have something to do with following His instructions to us, as well as His
example. We belong to Him, we follow Him, and ultimately become Him. Spiritual
rebirth implies inheriting traits from our Parent.
4. Ordinances Are Milestones in
Spiritual Progress
“The
ability to qualify for, receive, and act on personal revelation is the single
most important skill that can be acquired in this life.” (Julie B. Beck, “And
upon the Handmaids in Those Days Will I Pour Out My Spirit” April 2010 General
Conference). Lehi and his family were not sent into the wilderness without
guidance—they received a “ball or director.” Each of us is given the gift of
the Holy Ghost. “Joseph Smith said to Brother John Taylor in his day: ‘Brother
Taylor, you watch the impression of the Spirit of God; you watch the
whisperings of Spirit to you; you carry them out in your life, and [this] will
become a principle of revelation in you, and you will know and understand this
Spirit and power.’ This is the key, the foundation stone of all revelation.” (The
Discourses of Wilford Woodruff, 45–46). Could this life be construed as an
extended exercise in learning to follow the Holy Ghost? And why would we need
the guidance of the Holy Ghost or experience with and an understanding of its
influence in the eternities? This life is a preparation for the next, and I
doubt seriously that the most important skill we can acquire here will be obsolete
as soon as we depart this life. Those who enter the Celestial Kingdom also
receive a tangible source of information—a white stone, or Urim and Thummim of
some kind.
Ordinances,
I believe, are not a series of bizarre rituals thrown at us, devoid of rhyme
and reason. They are steps leading back to God. When Moses came down from the
mountain the first time in Ex. 19, the plan was to have all of Israel come up
the mountain to meet Jehovah. The people fearfully refused, asking that Moses
be a go-between instead. The Melchizedek priesthood was taken away, and they
were given a Tabernacle, then a Temple, focused on outward, symbolic
ordinances. It showed how to prepare to finally get back to that invitation to
ascend the mount, the steps of preparation and worthiness the people lacked the
first time they were called up. Without the ordinances of the Melchizedek
priesthood, we cannot get back to God (D&C 84:19-22).
“When
you climb up a ladder, you must begin at the bottom, and ascend step by step,
until you arrive at the top; and so it is with the principles of the Gospel—you
must begin with the first, and go on until you learn all the principles of
exaltation. But it will be a great while after you have passed through the veil
before you will have learned them” (Teachings
of the Prophet Joseph Smith, 1976, 348).
Joseph
continues in the King Follet Discourse: “All the minds and spirits that God
ever sent into the world are susceptible of enlargement. The first principles
of man are self-existent with God. God himself, finding he was in the midst of
spirits and glory, because he was more intelligent, saw proper to institute
laws whereby the rest could have a privilege to advance like himself. The
relationship we have with God places us in a situation to advance in knowledge.
He has power to institute laws to instruct the weaker intelligences, that they
may be exalted with Himself, so that they might have one glory upon another,
and all that knowledge, power, glory, and intelligence, which is requisite in
order to save them in the world of spirits.”
When we
are ready to take another big step toward God, with the Holy Ghost as our
guide, we qualify for that added knowledge and light through new ordinances.
5. Permanence
If a
contract is not made under the auspices of the priesthood, it is canceled in
the next life. Does it make sense to charge a man with stealing if he dies
before he can repay a loan? God’s eternal time table cannot be held hostage to
the requirements and schedules of this temporal world. How is it that such
feeble and inconstant beings as ourselves are not only expected, but required,
to make promises that we know are currently beyond our capacity to keep? (“Always
remember Him” is a promise I make every week, yet I will later forget where I set
my keys. Does the time when I sleep conflict with “always remember?”) I think
that the nature of our covenants says more about God than us; he is eternal,
and so all contracts we make with him are cast in that framework of permanence
and absoluteness. We keep the covenants as best we can, and the Atonement makes
up the difference when we are humble and penitent, willing to obey and try
again. Ordinances allow the best things in us to become permanent. Words like “seal,”
“bind,” and “confirm” imply that the end results of covenants and ordinances
extend into the eternities.
6. Symbolic Learning Devices
Three
dimensional acts—being immersed backwards in water, having hands laid on one’s
head, eating bread and drinking water each week, the ordinances of the Temple,
are all more vivid and memorable than scratching one’s name on a piece of paper
to sign a contract. Yet ordinances also constitute our signature on a dotted
line, our way of demonstrating willingness to do certain things. And we know
that God will also do certain things in return, when we keep our end of the
deal.
Being
dipped backwards in water is instructive for us—birth, bath, burial and
resurrection are all legitimate interpretations of the symbolism of the
ordinance. The sacrament shows us how dependent we are on Jesus for our physical
and spiritual nourishment. Kneeling at altars show that marriage involves
sacrifice. An altar is not an ATM or slot machine, or bank teller window. We do
not go to altars to make withdrawals, but deposits. Rewards for sacrifices are
determined by God, and we show our kinship and similarity to Jesus only to the
extent that we are willing to sacrifice in the similitude of the Son of God
(D&C 138:13).
Symmetry
Though I
cannot cite examples for every ordinance, I suspect that there is a
corresponding action on Jesus’ part for every covenant we keep and every
ordinance we participate in—a kind of reflexive balance, Newton’s “opposite and
equal reaction.” For instance, we eat bread and drink from a sweet cup
(originally wine) when we partake of the sacrament. By this act, we show we are
willing to take Jesus’ name, His obedience, onto ourselves, to always remember
Him. If we are called by His name, do we not also inherit everything that He
deserves? (All necessary ordinances unite our names with the names of God, His
Son, and the Spirit.)
In the
Garden of Gethsemane, after the first administration of the Lord’s Supper,
Jesus drank a bitter cup. He took our names, our soiled reputations onto
Himself, and suffered immensely. He undoubtedly remembered each of us, and He
still does. “Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have
compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget
thee. Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are
continually before me” (Isaiah 49:15-16). He always remembers us too.
Summary
Ordinances
prepare us to ascend back into God’s presence. They teach through symbolism. Ordinances
create an identity between us and Christ—we adopt his name, behaviors, and characteristics.
They officially bind us to Christ, and make our commitments to obey Him
eternally formal, efficacious beyond the grave. (That is the great power of the
priesthood; it allows contracts, agreements, oaths, bonds, covenants,
relationships, etc., to survive from this world to the next. What you bind on
earth shall be bound in heaven (Matt. 16:19).) To go where Jesus goes is to
enter heaven; what greater gift than to be permanently, legally bound to Him?
Ordinances allow us to receive a greater influence or portion of the Spirit.
And the Spirit cleanses us and changes our nature, and guides through the
dangers of life, eventually ushering us back into the arms of our Father in
heaven.
That is
my answer to the “why” of ordinances, though I’m sure there are more reasons
God has us participate in making covenants this way.
President
Lorenzo Snow taught: “There is a way by which persons can keep their
consciences clear before God and man, and that is to preserve within them the
spirit of God, which is the spirit of revelation to every man and woman. It
will reveal to them, even in the simplest of matters, what they shall do, by
making suggestions to them. We should try to learn the nature of this spirit,
that we may understand its suggestions, and then we will always be able to do
right. This is the grand privilege of every Latter-day Saint. We know that it
is our right to have the manifestations of the spirit every day of our lives. .
. . From the time we receive the Gospel, go down into the waters of baptism and
have hands laid upon us afterward for the gift of the Holy Ghost, we have a
friend, if we do not drive it from us by doing wrong. That friend is the Holy
Spirit, the Holy Ghost, which partakes of the things of God and shows them unto
us. This is a grand means that the Lord has provided for us, that we may know
the light, and not be groveling continually in the dark.” (In Conference
Report, Apr. 1899, p. 52.)
That is the
essence of what I have tried to express here.
I'm
sure all that above is bare bones compared to the real answer to the
"whys" that the Spirit could teach me if I were ready for more, but it's
pretty good for now. That's one thing Elder Maxwell expressed; the
"inexhaustible" nature of the Gospel.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Anger—Divine?
The Book of Abraham tells us that the Lord came to Abraham in the middle of the night, while he was receiving revelation through the means of the Urim and Thummim, put His hand on Abraham's eyes, and showed him the universe. In the middle of this advanced astronomy lesson, wherein the Lord compares the stars to Abraham's posterity, the Lord suddenly says the following: "...there is nothing that the Lord thy God shall take in his heart to do but what he will do it" (Abr. 3:17). This statement always seemed like a non sequitur to me. Why this bit of information about the nature of God is in the middle of Abraham's vision of the physical heavens, I do not know, but I am very grateful it is in there.
How much time have I wasted yearning and pining for that which I know quite well will never be? One implication of being omniscient is that God never has false expectations. For me, at least, false or unmet expectations are the major source of grief and anger. The light is green, yet the woman applying her makeup in front of me is struggling to pull up her tent stakes and remember that her mirror is attached to a set of wheels. Miss perfect thinks I'm not. Negative emotions ensue.
Jesus was the first fruits of the resurrection, and the resurrected Christ went out of His way to demonstrate to His disciples that the body they laid in the tomb on Friday was the same body now standing before them. All His physical faculties were restored. He ate fish and honeycomb, and wept. I assume because of these details that He also retained the mortal ability to experience anger.
He takes nothing into His heart unless He is going to do it. My heart is a mess much of the time—longing, frustrated, sad, despairing, angry. Why do I need the capacity to feel such emotions? Will these ugly colors always be a part of my emotional palette? Will they be resurrected with me? Or, in other words, does God get angry?
There is a tendency among the milktoast set of Mormons to equate Jesus with "cuddly." I think C. S. Lewis hit nearer the mark when He allegorically cast a lion to represent Jesus. Neither tame, nor safe. "Therefore I command you to repent—repent, lest I smite you by the rod of my mouth, and by my wrath, and by my anger, and your sufferings be sore—how sore you know not, how exquisite you know not, yea, how hard to bear you know not" (D&C 19:15). This warning to Martin Harris has been published as a warning to all of us. If anger is always bad for mortals, why is it appropriate for God to feel anger?
I posit here that it is appropriate to feel anger only when 1. The angry person is personally responsible for administering justice to someone, and 2. The person for whom anger is felt actually deserves to be hurt. We read of various "good guys" in the Book of Mormon becoming angry, such as Captain Moroni or Teancum. But that is only when they intend to end the life of someone who merits death. In other words, the necessity of violence is the only justification for anger.
We are rarely responsible for administering justice to other mortals. "...Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord" (Romans 12:19). Why are we commanded to "forgive all men" (D&C 64:10), whether they deserve it or not? Anger may be a legitimate divine attribute, but it comes very easily—we need no practice. We also lack the knowledge and finesse to administer justice in precisely beneficial amounts. And how often does genuine smiting occur? It is a last resort for the Lord. Forgiveness, on the other hand, is a divine virtue that God exercises on our behalf frequently. It comes with great difficulty, and we have limitless opportunities to practice here in mortality—ourselves, family, friends, enemies, even recalcitrant inanimate objects, like car keys or plumbing.
Listen to Enoch plead on behalf of us, his descendants: "And it came to pass that Enoch continued his cry unto the Lord, saying: I ask thee, O Lord, in the name of thine Only Begotten, even Jesus Christ, that thou wilt have mercy upon Noah and his seed, that the earth might never more be covered by the floods. And the Lord could not withhold; and he covenanted with Enoch, and sware unto him with an oath, that he would stay the floods; that he would call upon the children of Noah..." (Moses 7:50-51). We are indebted to the interceding and pleading on our behalf of Jesus Christ, Enoch, Moses, and many other faithful prophets who ask the Lord to give us just one more chance to repent.
"Our heavenly Father is more liberal in His views, and boundless in His mercies and blessings, than we are ready to believe or receive; and at the same time more terrible to the workers of iniquity, more awful in the executions of His punishments, and more ready to detect every false way, than we are apt to suppose Him to be..." (The Personal Writings of Joseph Smith, 509).
Far be it from me to try and drive us back to the apostate view of God as distant and cruel. He is our Father. There are provisions for everyone's salvation—it is called the "plan of salvation," not the plan of damnation. But He has more in mind for us than ease and comfort, and so the course is strict, the way is narrow, and the rod employed to smack us when we wander is sturdy.
I am acquainted with the Lord's mercy and grace, which He dispenses to me in generous amounts on a daily basis. But we live in a culture in which "nice" has nearly become the highest unwritten law (perhaps THE highest law). Truth, goodness, morality, and other essential virtues make way for the unstable virtue of tolerance. How dare you hurt that person's feelings by pointing out the truth? seems to be the prevailing attitude. I am by no means extolling rudeness or the belligerent cruelty that parades itself proudly on talk radio today. Gentleness and refinement are also on the list of divine attributes. I hope we do not make the mistake of conflating our present false traditions with the eternal culture of heaven. Jesus said, "I am the truth..." which is more intense than saying "I am honest." But Jesus could do a lot more tongue lashing than He did in scripture. One man actually made the mistake of asking "what lack I yet?" and went away sorrowing. Jesus could have given that same dose of discouraging medicine to everyone He met, all day, every day. But He was patient, willing to plod at our pace, rather than break our teeth with the truths we are not ready to hear. I believe we should follow that example.
When ARE we supposed to administer correction? As far as I can tell, the only time the scriptures authorize critical comments is "...when moved upon by the Holy Ghost" (D&C 121:43). How can we tell when we are prompted by the Spirit, rather than spleen, to correct someone? If we manage to show forth "afterward an increase of love," it is good evidence that we were prompted by the Spirit. This is a standard I would like to see modern political discourse live up to. This may ultimately prove impossible, since private correction, rather than public, also seems to be one of the finer points of the divine mode of correction (see D&C 28:11). Embarrassing others for their flaws tends to entrench them in their ways, rather than heal them of their folly (see JSH 1:28).
Beyond all that, more often than not (I guess upwards of 9 times out of every 10), what is needed by the sinner is not new information; rather, it is new motivation. Critics are rarely dispensing new revelations. Everyone on a diet has the general idea of how to lose weight. Knowledge is not lacking. Consistent, unbreakable motivation is the missing key. Where does such motivation come from?
"Charity never faileth" might refer to its consistent and indefatigable nature, but I wonder if the phrase might rightly be construed as an advertisement for the cure-all of genuine love when it comes to solving relational problems: "Brute force not working for you? Is that loved one still manifesting sin? Is your marriage strained to the breaking point? Try CHARITY—it never faileth!" That honey draws more bees than vinegar is obvious, so why is it so easy for us to forget and spray vinegar like a skunk? Why is it that "...the nature and disposition of almost all men, as soon as they get a little authority, as they suppose, [is that] they will immediately begin to exercise unrighteous dominion" (D&C 121:39)? Probably because we care more about ourselves and our precious property than the people we are angry at—we lack love towards them. So the condition of the paint on the cupboards outweighs our concern for their belief in our affection, and that fact becomes apparent when our tempers boil over. That is never the case with God, who administers justice with the benefit of the offender in mind (think of Alma the Younger in his coma; the instant enough was enough, the Lord showed an increase of love).
The late Steven Covey uttered a phrase in an instructional recording, and it has never left me: when working with people, "slow is fast, and fast is slow."
"When persons manifest the least kindness and love to me, O what power it has over my mind, while the opposite course has a tendency to harrow up all the harsh feelings and depress the human mind" (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, pg. 240). If God is "administering the strap" to us, it must be because all other recourse has failed, or would fail if tried. Meanwhile, our unbounded love and generosity toward the faults of others will motivate them to overcome them more than pointing out what they are already well aware of.
Rather than present the world with a diluted version of God, it would be better in my opinion to present Him as full of love and patience, yet also capable and willing to feel anger and administer pain. He has warned us, and the rest of the world, and we should not contradict or amend His words to make ourselves comfortable in a society that practices niceness at the expense of truth or morality.
How much time have I wasted yearning and pining for that which I know quite well will never be? One implication of being omniscient is that God never has false expectations. For me, at least, false or unmet expectations are the major source of grief and anger. The light is green, yet the woman applying her makeup in front of me is struggling to pull up her tent stakes and remember that her mirror is attached to a set of wheels. Miss perfect thinks I'm not. Negative emotions ensue.
Jesus was the first fruits of the resurrection, and the resurrected Christ went out of His way to demonstrate to His disciples that the body they laid in the tomb on Friday was the same body now standing before them. All His physical faculties were restored. He ate fish and honeycomb, and wept. I assume because of these details that He also retained the mortal ability to experience anger.
He takes nothing into His heart unless He is going to do it. My heart is a mess much of the time—longing, frustrated, sad, despairing, angry. Why do I need the capacity to feel such emotions? Will these ugly colors always be a part of my emotional palette? Will they be resurrected with me? Or, in other words, does God get angry?
There is a tendency among the milktoast set of Mormons to equate Jesus with "cuddly." I think C. S. Lewis hit nearer the mark when He allegorically cast a lion to represent Jesus. Neither tame, nor safe. "Therefore I command you to repent—repent, lest I smite you by the rod of my mouth, and by my wrath, and by my anger, and your sufferings be sore—how sore you know not, how exquisite you know not, yea, how hard to bear you know not" (D&C 19:15). This warning to Martin Harris has been published as a warning to all of us. If anger is always bad for mortals, why is it appropriate for God to feel anger?
I posit here that it is appropriate to feel anger only when 1. The angry person is personally responsible for administering justice to someone, and 2. The person for whom anger is felt actually deserves to be hurt. We read of various "good guys" in the Book of Mormon becoming angry, such as Captain Moroni or Teancum. But that is only when they intend to end the life of someone who merits death. In other words, the necessity of violence is the only justification for anger.
We are rarely responsible for administering justice to other mortals. "...Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord" (Romans 12:19). Why are we commanded to "forgive all men" (D&C 64:10), whether they deserve it or not? Anger may be a legitimate divine attribute, but it comes very easily—we need no practice. We also lack the knowledge and finesse to administer justice in precisely beneficial amounts. And how often does genuine smiting occur? It is a last resort for the Lord. Forgiveness, on the other hand, is a divine virtue that God exercises on our behalf frequently. It comes with great difficulty, and we have limitless opportunities to practice here in mortality—ourselves, family, friends, enemies, even recalcitrant inanimate objects, like car keys or plumbing.
Listen to Enoch plead on behalf of us, his descendants: "And it came to pass that Enoch continued his cry unto the Lord, saying: I ask thee, O Lord, in the name of thine Only Begotten, even Jesus Christ, that thou wilt have mercy upon Noah and his seed, that the earth might never more be covered by the floods. And the Lord could not withhold; and he covenanted with Enoch, and sware unto him with an oath, that he would stay the floods; that he would call upon the children of Noah..." (Moses 7:50-51). We are indebted to the interceding and pleading on our behalf of Jesus Christ, Enoch, Moses, and many other faithful prophets who ask the Lord to give us just one more chance to repent.
"Our heavenly Father is more liberal in His views, and boundless in His mercies and blessings, than we are ready to believe or receive; and at the same time more terrible to the workers of iniquity, more awful in the executions of His punishments, and more ready to detect every false way, than we are apt to suppose Him to be..." (The Personal Writings of Joseph Smith, 509).
Far be it from me to try and drive us back to the apostate view of God as distant and cruel. He is our Father. There are provisions for everyone's salvation—it is called the "plan of salvation," not the plan of damnation. But He has more in mind for us than ease and comfort, and so the course is strict, the way is narrow, and the rod employed to smack us when we wander is sturdy.
I am acquainted with the Lord's mercy and grace, which He dispenses to me in generous amounts on a daily basis. But we live in a culture in which "nice" has nearly become the highest unwritten law (perhaps THE highest law). Truth, goodness, morality, and other essential virtues make way for the unstable virtue of tolerance. How dare you hurt that person's feelings by pointing out the truth? seems to be the prevailing attitude. I am by no means extolling rudeness or the belligerent cruelty that parades itself proudly on talk radio today. Gentleness and refinement are also on the list of divine attributes. I hope we do not make the mistake of conflating our present false traditions with the eternal culture of heaven. Jesus said, "I am the truth..." which is more intense than saying "I am honest." But Jesus could do a lot more tongue lashing than He did in scripture. One man actually made the mistake of asking "what lack I yet?" and went away sorrowing. Jesus could have given that same dose of discouraging medicine to everyone He met, all day, every day. But He was patient, willing to plod at our pace, rather than break our teeth with the truths we are not ready to hear. I believe we should follow that example.
When ARE we supposed to administer correction? As far as I can tell, the only time the scriptures authorize critical comments is "...when moved upon by the Holy Ghost" (D&C 121:43). How can we tell when we are prompted by the Spirit, rather than spleen, to correct someone? If we manage to show forth "afterward an increase of love," it is good evidence that we were prompted by the Spirit. This is a standard I would like to see modern political discourse live up to. This may ultimately prove impossible, since private correction, rather than public, also seems to be one of the finer points of the divine mode of correction (see D&C 28:11). Embarrassing others for their flaws tends to entrench them in their ways, rather than heal them of their folly (see JSH 1:28).
Beyond all that, more often than not (I guess upwards of 9 times out of every 10), what is needed by the sinner is not new information; rather, it is new motivation. Critics are rarely dispensing new revelations. Everyone on a diet has the general idea of how to lose weight. Knowledge is not lacking. Consistent, unbreakable motivation is the missing key. Where does such motivation come from?
"Charity never faileth" might refer to its consistent and indefatigable nature, but I wonder if the phrase might rightly be construed as an advertisement for the cure-all of genuine love when it comes to solving relational problems: "Brute force not working for you? Is that loved one still manifesting sin? Is your marriage strained to the breaking point? Try CHARITY—it never faileth!" That honey draws more bees than vinegar is obvious, so why is it so easy for us to forget and spray vinegar like a skunk? Why is it that "...the nature and disposition of almost all men, as soon as they get a little authority, as they suppose, [is that] they will immediately begin to exercise unrighteous dominion" (D&C 121:39)? Probably because we care more about ourselves and our precious property than the people we are angry at—we lack love towards them. So the condition of the paint on the cupboards outweighs our concern for their belief in our affection, and that fact becomes apparent when our tempers boil over. That is never the case with God, who administers justice with the benefit of the offender in mind (think of Alma the Younger in his coma; the instant enough was enough, the Lord showed an increase of love).
The late Steven Covey uttered a phrase in an instructional recording, and it has never left me: when working with people, "slow is fast, and fast is slow."
"When persons manifest the least kindness and love to me, O what power it has over my mind, while the opposite course has a tendency to harrow up all the harsh feelings and depress the human mind" (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, pg. 240). If God is "administering the strap" to us, it must be because all other recourse has failed, or would fail if tried. Meanwhile, our unbounded love and generosity toward the faults of others will motivate them to overcome them more than pointing out what they are already well aware of.
Rather than present the world with a diluted version of God, it would be better in my opinion to present Him as full of love and patience, yet also capable and willing to feel anger and administer pain. He has warned us, and the rest of the world, and we should not contradict or amend His words to make ourselves comfortable in a society that practices niceness at the expense of truth or morality.
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