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.
