Today the stated goal of American culture is to "have it all." We want to forgo the inconvenient law of the harvest, to have our cake and eat it too. We want to sacrifice nothing. But we cannot have everything, even if we have the money, because we are mortal. Finite time makes this life the perfect test—we can choose only one thing at a time, and time is limited.
"This puts us in the position of the fairy-tale hero who is introduced into a cave of incredible treasures and permitted to choose from the heap whatever gem he wants—but only one. What a delightful situation! I can think of anything I want to—absolutely anything!—with this provision: that when I choose to focus my attention on one object, all other objects drop into the background. I am only permitted to think of one thing at a time; that is the one rule of the game" (Hugh Nibley, Zeal Without Knowledge). We can only choose one thing to love, one thing to think of, one thing to prize at a time. The one we choose shows who we really are.
Jesus plead for some other way than what He was going through in Gethsemane: "For behold, I, God, have suffered these things for all, that they might not suffer if they would repent; But if they would not repent they must suffer even as I; Which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit—and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrink—Nevertheless, glory be to the Father, and I partook and finished my preparations unto the children of men" (D&C 19:16-19).
Jesus describes the main source of the agony (though betrayal, abandonment by friends and derision by His own people, and physical tortures also accompanied it): "Wherefore, I command you again to repent, lest I humble you with my almighty power; and that you confess your sins, lest you suffer these punishments of which I have spoken, of which in the smallest, yea, even in the least degree you have tasted at the time I withdrew my Spirit." (Verse 20, emphasis added).
It was the deliberate withdrawal of the Spirit that caused His unimaginable agony. Heavenly Father withdrew the light, His radiating power, "...the light which shineth, which giveth you light...through him who enlighteneth your eyes, which is the same light that quickeneth your understandings; Which light proceedeth forth from the presence of God to fill the immensity of space—The light which is in all things, which giveth life to all things, which is the law by which all things are governed, even the power of God who sitteth upon his throne, who is in the bosom of eternity, who is in the midst of all things" (D&C 88:11-13). Jesus was in outer darkness in Gethsemane, and again on the cross according to Brigham Young. Jesus felt the punishments we would have felt if we were sent to outer darkness to suffer for our own sins. All of them.
When we make unrighteous decisions we lose that same light. This loss is proportional to the degree of wickedness of our behavior, and the rebellion in our hearts.
Most of the time, our bodies and spirits can be comfortable simultaneously. Sometimes, however, the Lord asks us to choose one or the other.
The rich young ruler is an example of one who was asked to make this choice. Jesus tailored a commandment to his needs. Jesus asked him about the commandments he was keeping. But then he showed the man that he was breaking the first commandment—he loved his wealth and property more than God. Jesus proved it to him by asking him to surrender his riches, and the young man stumbled over his own heart. He went away sorrowing because he lost the Spirit. "Verily, verily, I say unto you, I will impart unto you of my Spirit, which shall enlighten your mind, which shall fill your soul with joy..." (D&C 11:13). Wealth in and of itself is not bad; but in this instance, this young man was asked to choose between having the Spirit and having his wealth, his carnal security and status. The rich young man came unto Jesus (slid up to him on his knees). Instead of giving him a pass, the Lord brought him to a crisis, a dilemma, and forced him to tip his hand and show what he was really made of, what he actually valued. "And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness..." (Ether 12:27).
Job is forcibly stripped of all his prestige and possessions, yet will not forsake the Lord. Lying in a pile of rags and ashes, he laments his outward discomfort, yet his lengthy testimony shows that the Spirit is still burning brightly within him. Imagine them in their predicaments, side by side: the rich young ruler on one hand, and Job on the other. One in robes and rings, the other in rags. Both are sorrowing; which one would you rather be, given the choice? Would you rather have a comfortable body and an uncomfortable spirit, or an uncomfortable body and a comfortable spirit? Which do you shield from harm, your five senses, or your conscience? I would rather be covered in ashes and have a clean conscience.
We are natives of heaven, a place that enjoys the full glory of God. This earth has much that is good and beautiful, but none of it is worth losing the slender thread of light that connects us with heaven—the Spirit. We no longer enjoy a fullness of our premortal glory, but we can enjoy a portion of it. Any loss in this area is painful. C. S. Lewis explains it with characteristic clarity and wit: "God made us: invented us as a man invents an engine. A car is made to run on petrol, and it would not run properly on anything else. Now God designed the human machine to run on Himself. He Himself is the fuel our spirits were designed to burn, or the food our spirits were designed to feed on. There is no other. That is why it is just no good asking God to make us happy in our own way without bothering about religion. God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there" (Mere Christianity, p. 54).
Ironically, when we choose to comfort our bodies at the expense of receiving light, the loss of that light which animates our whole body, spirit, and mind makes food less appealing, makes colors drab, makes sleep unquiet, makes vistas and sunsets dull, makes lemons and chocolate unsatisfying; loss of light essentially robs life of its joy. Everything becomes a gray and brown homogeneous mish-mash. The very things for which we abandoned the Spirit are diminished and muted by the Spirit's absence. No physical stimulus quite succeeds at drowning out the dull, cold sting of guilt.
Even worse, when we make one concession to evil by refusing to sacrifice what the Lord asks, we inevitably make other concessions to sin as well: "Therefore, they must needs be chastened and tried, even as Abraham, who was commanded to offer up his only son. For all those who will not endure chastening, but deny me, cannot be sanctified" (D&C 101: 4-5). "The devil has no power over us only as we permit him; the moment we revolt at anything which comes from God, the devil takes power" (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, p. 181). Whenever we rebel at anything that comes from God, even the uncomfortable sacrifices, the adversary takes power. (I have noticed that the first thing he persuades those under his influence to do is damage their bodies, whether by drugs, alcohol, deafening music, tattoos and piercings, overeating, a messed up sleep schedule, or simply idling away our lives till it is time to die, to the exclusion of real living. The more we waste time, or damage our health, the less time we have to repent. Conversely, those who obey the Lord are typically preserved in their health, simply by avoiding those things forbidden by God, and so the test and opportunities for repentance are prolonged and multiplied.)
If we are going to suffer either way—if we are all going to be "tried even as Abraham"—then we might as well take the plunge, and gag down the nasty medicine of sacrifice. There is something satisfying about watching flames consume what is on the altar; the Lord can restore anything, as he did with Job. Bodies can be resurrected, lands redeemed, and crops continue to grow year after year. Flecks of gold dust can be sifted and melted and forged into rings and crowns.
I am acutely aware of the inadequacy of each person, including myself, when it comes to giving up our most prized possession at the Lord's request. I do not want to give the impression that the Lord is a cosmic bully, a spoil-sport who takes away our lunch money and destroys our joys. He will not ask more of us than we are able to give (see 1Ne. 3:7). But He will test us, and to think otherwise is to invent a fake, more convenient Lord. Listen to the Brother of Jared's plea: "Now behold, O Lord, and do not be angry with thy servant because of his weakness before thee; for we know that thou art holy and dwellest in the heavens, and that we are unworthy before thee; because of the fall our natures have become evil continually; nevertheless, O Lord, thou hast given us a commandment that we must call upon thee, that from thee we may receive according to our desires. And I know, O Lord, that thou hast all power, and can do whatsoever thou wilt for the benefit of man..." (Ether 3:2,4). We are not fooling anyone; the Lord knows just how pathetic we are in the face of certain prospects and burdens.
Yet He is anxiously engaged in the work of getting us all on task, repenting day and night. That tells me that there is good reason for each of us to hope. Yes, sacrifice is intimidating, but the Lord is merciful and patient with us, watching while we choose whether to obey Him.
Another oft-overlooked fact is that the Lord owns everything already. He does not need the things we part with; rather, He needs us to show ("witness" in the sacrament prayers) that our hearts really do belong to Him instead of possessions.
A comforting facet of sacrificing to the Lord is that He gives us back more than we give. We cannot get the Lord in our debt. Lehi gave up his cozy den at Jerusalem in exchange for two whole continents. If our hearts are not right, the Lord will respect our agency, and we will go away sorrowing. But if we give Him what He asks of us, we will always get back more from the Lord than we surrendered.
