We Latter-day Saints tend to feel obligated about everything, tend to view every aspect of the gospel as an assignment we need to complete. We clearly hear the commandment to “be ye…perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect (Matt. 5:48),” but we neglect the fact that “…he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them” (1Ne. 3:7). It is impossible to keep that commandment (or most of the others properly) without grace, without the Savior’s help.
We use that word so much that it becomes dilapidated, loses its meaning. “Savior” means rescuer, one who rescues. The point of a rescue is helping people when they cannot help themselves. We have power to think, move, act, and choose many things, but perfecting ourselves through our own efforts is not on our menu of options. Instead of relying on our own strength to be saved (saved from what, incidentally?), we are told that “…since man had fallen he could not merit anything of himself…” (Alma 22:14), and we must “[rely] alone upon the merits of Christ (Moro. 6:4),” “with unshaken faith in him, relying wholly upon the merits of him who is mighty to save” (2Ne 31:19).
The Fall of Adam is our collective inheritance. Being fallen in our natures, living in a sinful, fallen world, and committing sin, is like being stuck at the bottom of a pit. Regardless of how we got into the pit, there is no way to extricate ourselves through our own efforts. We may jump and claw at the walls, but we cannot climb out of the deep hole on our own—we need to be rescued by someone else. To “merit” means to deserver or earn. We cannot earn our own salvation. That is why we need Jesus Christ to save us, not from a pit, but from sin. If we want to be free from the culpability and the desire for sin, we have to rely on Him.
To continue the metaphor of being stuck at the bottom of a pit, I feel that some Latter-day Saints are obsessed with pulling themselves up by their bootstraps. After demonstrating to ourselves that we are incapable of climbing out on our own, Jesus lowers a rope and tells us to grab on with both hands. Instead, we grab the rope with one hand, and continue to claw at the walls of the pit with the other. We then wonder why we are not getting out of the pit faster. Trying to save ourselves without His help is, necessarily, putting our trust in the arm of the flesh. Nephi admits “O wretched man that I am,” and begins to beg the Savior for help:
“O Lord, I have trusted in thee, and I will trust in thee forever. I will not put my trust in the arm of flesh (his own human capacity); for I know that cursed is he that putteth his trust in the arm of flesh. Yea, cursed is he that putteth his trust in man or maketh flesh his arm. Yea, I know that God will give liberally to him that asketh…” (2Ne. 4:34-35). How easy it is to rely on human knowledge, human ingenuity, our own “best efforts,” in our attempts to live the gospel. “One day they’ll invent a pill to make us perfect,” we hope to ourselves. One cursory glance at the messed up world we live in will show you how vain those hopes are. The fruits of the Spirit—peace, love, joy, knowledge—are fairly scarce commodities for those who do not rely on the Savior.
Work, Work, Work
If we cannot save ourselves, why the emphasis on works in the Savior’s ministry? “If ye love me, keep my commandments” (John 14:15). Yes, eschewing evil and choosing to obey yield immediate, desirable consequences. A life of safety, freedom from addictions, filled with the Spirit and its fruits, is the immediate result of trying to obey the commandments, even with minimal success. That hardest commandment, to be perfect like God, is something the Savior does in us, or to us, not something we can achieve through our own best efforts.
Flaws are frustrating. An honest look in the mirror can be very painful. It is easy to forget why we have all those flaws: “…I give unto men weakness that they may be humble…” (Ether 12:27). Jesus created us the way we are so that we can be humble. Toes that can be stubbed, brains that forget or misconstrue, hearts that can be tempted or become angry, biceps that are flimsy, faces with blemishes, and all the rest of it—these are deliberate design flaws. Jesus loves us; why is humility important enough that Jesus would inflict such weird and painful things on us to engender that virtue?
He continues: “…my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them” (Ether 12:27). Notice the prerequisite for having weak things made strong: humility. Our fallen natures will change only when we present ourselves before Him in faith, deep humility, willingness to obey, and love. Our own best efforts are a pittance, a sign that our humility is genuine; they merit us nothing. They are valuable to salvation in the next life only because He has promised to give us things in exchange for them.
James laments, “For whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all.
“For he that said, Do not commit adultery, said also, Do not kill. Now if thou commit no adultery, yet if thou kill, thou art become a transgressor of the law” (James 2:10-11). If we committed only one sin in our entire life, it would invalidate our attempts to earn our own salvation.
Lehi explains further, “And men are instructed sufficiently that they know good from evil (knowledge is a prerequisite for agency to work). And the law is given unto men. And by the law no flesh is justified; or, by the law men are cut off (we destroy the chance to earn our way to heaven the instant we commit the slightest infraction). Yea, by the temporal law they were cut off; and also, by the spiritual law they perish from that which is good, and become miserable forever” (2Ne. 2:5). In other words, the law is a guide (like the rod of iron), meant to get us to our destination, back in the presence of God. That is what the “ends of the law” are—safe arrival back home. But we blew it with the least sin. Lehi is admitting that we are helpless to pay for our safe passage into heaven through following the law with precision. How then do we get back?
“Wherefore, redemption cometh in and through the Holy Messiah; for he is full of grace and truth.
“Behold, he offereth himself a sacrifice for sin, to answer the ends of the law, unto all those who have a broken heart and a contrite spirit; and unto none else can the ends of the law be answered” (2Ne. 2:6-7). Jesus is the only one who merits salvation through His own behavior. We get back by humbling ourselves before Him.
If our behavior cannot earn our way into heaven, why will humbling ourselves before Jesus, having a broken heart and a contrite spirit, allow us to get back?
Jesus Christ suffered innocently, for us. He bore the weight of our sins, even though he earned, merited, deserved, to have joy, salvation, and peace. This unjust suffering created a debt in His favor. We deserve to go to hell for committing the least sin, by the technicalities of the law. But the combination of that debt owed to Him with our meek, lowly, contrite, humble, penitent attitudes is enough to get us the designation of belonging to Him. He takes us into heaven because it is His right. Our works, our own meager yet earnest, willing attempts to keep His commandments, demonstrate that our hearts really are broken, that we are His.
Mormon explains the scenario of intercession almost parenthetically: “…Christ hath ascended into heaven…to claim of the Father his rights of mercy which he hath upon the children of men…” (Moroni 7:27). Jesus demands us as payment of that debt. Those who covenant with Jesus through ordinances, in sincerity, and try to obey and repent as best they can, become His property. Our modern ears recoil at that language, but we do not mind saying a child “belongs” to a parent. Chattle is not the paradigm; it is adoption. “And they shall be mine, saith the Lord of Hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels; and I will spare them as a man spareth his own son that serveth him.
“Then shall ye return and discern between the righteous and the wicked, between him that serveth God and him that serveth him not” (Jesus quoting Malachi to the Nephites in 3Ne. 24:17-18). Our behavior is important to our salvation, even though we know before we even leave the gate that it will be stumbling, clumsy attempts at best.
Borrowing Jesus Christ’s Power
Because of the disparity between where we are and where we are yet commanded to go, or what we need to become, many Church members become despondent. They feel their own efforts are not enough (which is true), and they begin to beat themselves up. Remember Nephi’s statement about the Lord preparing a way?
What happens to us when we are that humble, when we are meek, when we offer him a broken heart and a contrite spirit? What happens when we give ourselves to Him in that way, offering our time, our lives, our talents, and everything that we own, will yet own, everything that we are?
He will not overreach our agency, and such humility removes that impediment to our own spiritual rebirth. It is like lowering a shield over our hearts and minds. If we donate ourselves to Jesus freely, willing to do anything or give up anything He asks of us, always mindful of our dependence on Him, He can then reach into our hearts and minds and change them, and He has promised that He will immediately when we lower our guard:
“Behold, I have come unto the world to bring redemption unto the world, to save the world from sin.”
How does He get sin out of us?
“Therefore, whoso repenteth and cometh unto me as a little child, him will I receive, for of such is the kingdom of God. Behold, for such I have laid down my life, and have taken it up again; therefore repent, and come unto me ye ends of the earth, and be saved” (3Ne. 9:21-22). Not just saved from the punishments for sin, but from the desire to commit sin:
“And ye shall offer for a sacrifice unto me a broken heart and a contrite spirit. And whoso cometh unto me with a broken heart and a contrite spirit, him will I baptize with fire and with the Holy Ghost, even as the Lamanites, because of their faith in me at the time of their conversion, were baptized with fire and with the Holy Ghost, and they knew it not” (3Ne. 9:20). The process is so seamless, we might be unaware that it has even happened. The actual sacrifice happens inside; our actions are its outward tokens.
He will only change as much of our hearts as we give to Him; a fifty percent offering means a fifty percent spiritual rebirth. That is why it is a drawn out process for some of us, while others seem to achieve it instantaneously; it happens no slower or faster than we submit our all to Him. (We can also take the offering back at any moment, balking at some new prompting or assignment. When we do that, the effects of spiritual rebirth begin to fade accordingly. If we do not repent, we can become worse off than if it had not happened.)
Even if it is a paltry offering by comparison to His might Atoning Sacrifice, we are still obliged to make it; He gave His all too. It would be asymmetrical if we did not offer our one hundred percent in return. Love demands that much.
As we give our hearts to Jesus, He will change them. Instead of needing willpower to resist temptations, we start to take on the attributes of Christ, which means that we lose the ability to be tempted. It also means that our ability to perform the commandments He gives us increases. That is real emotional salvation—watching your performance improve through grace. You are still not earning your own salvation, but there is far less broken furniture involved.
Good Humility
All this talk about “humble,” “meek,” “contrite,” “lowly,” “broken heart,” “contrite spirit,” “submission,” and all the rest, can paint a dire picture in our minds. Let’s take a quick look at what humility really entails when it is compatible with scripturally sound definitions.
Misery is not the same thing as humility (if it were, Satan would be humble). I have tried to reach some definition of humility that bypasses comfort and discomfort, emotional valences like sad and happy, and I think I have found a golden strand in the tangled braid that answers to a pretty accurate description: Humility is deferring to the truth. This sounds easy, but think about it how hard it would be to always live up to every bit of knowledge we have. Only Jesus lived that way successfully.
If we are flawed, it means recognizing those flaws. If we need help, it means acknowledging that need. If we receive a new prompting or commandment, it means not only trying to obey, but being willing to obey.
That word, willing, shows up every Sunday in the sacrament prayer on the bread. It describes our internal condition, not our external works. This is not because our works are unimportant, but because, as Lehi notes, if our works are all we have to rely on, we are sunk. On the other hand, when we are humble, and super-glued to Jesus, we have a viable case.
A sprinter at the blocks before the gun fires has not moved; he has not broken any record, nor won the race, nor made it to the winners’ podium. He may come in last; he may trip and fall at the gun. Whatever the outcome, the sprinter coiled like a steel spring at the blocks is willing—that is his internal state, and everything about his external state bespeaks his intentions. He is ready to win.
The sacrament prayers say that partaking of the bread shows that we are willing to take upon us the name of Jesus Christ, willing to always remember Him, and willing to keep His commandments which He has given us. (The prayer on the water says that we actually do always remember Him; this is still an internal event, recalling or remembering Him.)
Elder Bednar says that we take His name upon ourselves in the Temple; the sacrament is preliminary to that, only showing our willingness to do so.
I used to think that taking His name upon me meant accepting more assignments, more work. Undoubtedly we should not stop trying to be like Jesus in all that we do and say. But there is more to it that accepting some new load.
Imagine a billionaire offering you the chance to borrow His credit card. Suddenly, you can afford to buy a stadium, a jet, an ocean cruise ship, a private island. As long as you are using his resources with his permission, all the transactions are legitimate, and the expensive items are yours.
Jesus took our names, hence, our punishments onto Himself in the Garden of Gethsemane. He accepted our debts, what we have earned, which is the complete loss of the Holy Spirit. That is the essence of outer darkness, the bitter cup He drank for us.
Jesus deserved, merited, earned, the right to always have the Spirit in abundance. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me…” (Isa. 61:1). Messiah, Christ, means “Anointed One.” If we are humble, just willing to try, He gives us more than we deserve. When we are willing to take His name upon ourselves, we are borrowing His merits, and we get what He earned instead of what we earned—to always have the Spirit. (Maybe that is why the sacrament prayers say “his Spirit” instead of “the Spirit.”) We get to borrow one of His greatest gifts.
Anyone who gets into heaven will get in because they are attached in a permanent fashion to Jesus Christ. Getting out of the pit depends not on our own strength and ability to hold onto the walls, but our ability to hold onto the rope. Being humble is not just admitting we need help, being willing to grab the rope; it is the power by which we hold onto the rope.
We should take confidence from the fact that the Savior knows exactly who we are, including all the evil in our hearts, and yet He loves us anyway. He does not expect us to perfect ourselves; He does that. He wants us to be humble, to trust Him, and so that He can perform that work in us.
*************************************
5 December 2014
Update:
How can our obedience be worthless and valuable?
Jesus was sitting in the Temple precincts near the treasury, warning the people about the Pharisees, how they should not imitate their show and pretense.
“And he looked up, and saw the rich men casting their gifts into the treasury (where everyone could see, strangely).
“And he saw also a certain poor widow casting in thither two mites.
“And he said, Of a truth I say unto you, that this poor widow hath cast in more than they all:
“For all these have of their abundance cast in unto the offerings of God: but she of her penury hath cast in all the living that she had” (Luke 21:1-4).
This is the Lord’s mathematics. Two cents is more than a handful of gold, if the two cents is 100% of a person’s total assets, and the handful of gold is a fraction of another’s total assets.
Objectively, this woman’s offering was very poor; subjectively, in the Lord’s eyes, it was great, “all…she had.” Her gross contribution was weak; in the final net analysis, it was very great.
The same rule applies to our offerings, our attempts at obedience. We may say, like Nephi, “I will go and do,” but even when we succeed, we are constrained to exclaim, “O wretched man that I am” at the end of the day.
The point of the long spiel above was not to suggest that obedience is not delightful to the Lord, or that He will not smile on our best efforts, or that He will not bless us for our obedience. “I the Lord am bound when ye do what I say” (D&C 82:10). By all means, we should put our shoulders to the wheel and obey, and expect the Lord’s help in obeying. But there is a danger that we can lose perspective in the mad dash to cover our sins and inadequacies. Thinking we are good enough and therefore should give up, or thinking that the bar is impossible to clear, and therefore we should quit, are both mindsets Satan tempts us to cultivate.
My point is that we can be honest about how much ground we still have to cover, the gap between where we are and where we should be, without beating ourselves up about it. We can see that we have offered two cents instead of a pile of gold coins, and have faith that it is acceptable to the Lord if it is our all, offered in faith and love. Nephi’s acknowledgement, “O wretched man that I am,” melts away in the face of, “nevertheless, I know in whom I have trusted” (2Ne. 4:17, 19).
The Lord measures our behavior in proportion to what we have to offer, not what others have, or what He has. Judging people is the Lord’s responsibility, not ours. He decides what is acceptable, not we. That includes praising ourselves or condemning ourselves. Success should not drive us to pride, nor should the objective pathetic nature of our abilities drive us to despair.
I remember hearing Elder Ballard speaking at a fireside, and he mentioned that God must chuckle at His children when so many of us pray as we do, sending Him on errands, ordering Him to do this or that. He contrasted that kind of praying with President Kimball’s humble prayer one night, offered at the end of a busy day. He prayed, in essence, “Lord, is this day’s work an acceptable offering unto thee?” We can secure a testimony that our offerings are acceptable while still retaining a full knowledge of our shortcomings. I wonder if such a stamp of approval on our best efforts is part of enjoying peace in this world.
“…God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world…” (John 3:17). His measuring system seems to diminish our flaws, and amplify even the tiniest efforts on our part. We should try our best, but try in a less worried way. We can know that what we are doing is in harmony with the Lord’s will for us when we feel the Spirit. This is such a common experience that we often discount it, but it is to heaven what a Temple recommend is to the Temple; it is our ticket of entry.
Thursday, December 4, 2014
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Miracles
Two Latter-day Saint youth speakers attempted to answer a question frequently posed by their audiences: “Why don’t angels come and visit me? Why don’t the heavens open and pour out glorious manifestations?”
Another institute teacher expressed his answer to their question this way: “If you want a Joseph Smith sized testimony, you’re going to have Joseph Smith sized trials.” Yes, the heavens opened for him on many occasions, and he saw God. There is opposition in all things, and he had trials as great as his blessings. False accusations, unjust imprisonment, stillborn babies or children dying in infancy, persecution of his friends while he was helpless in prison, a stubborn and deaf world that would not believe him, and even believing friends who were not ready to hear everything he wanted to share but could not, were a few of the hardships that hounded Joseph Smith throughout his life.
It is my testimony that miracles still happen today, on a regular basis. Most of the time, those who experience them are prompted by the Spirit not to share them, except in private circumstances with particular individuals. Strangely, this is for the benefit of those who are not yet ready to hear them.
Know It Vs. Do It
For those who cannot upgrade their behavior to match their knowledge, witnessing miracles and visions would heap condemnation on their heads. Rarely does witnessing a miracle, by itself, produce lasting good behavior.
Think of Laman and Lemuel, witnessing miracles and even hearing the voice of God and seeing angels. The last we ever hear of them in the Book of Mormon is that they are plotting to murder their prophet-brother Nephi again. The entire tribe of Israel is brought to the foot of Mount Sinai by a series of unforgettable miracles, and when they are invited to come up the mountain and meet Jehovah face to face, they decline the offer, and insist that Moses go up as their representative to get the good word for them. While he is gone up the mountain, they build a golden calf to worship, and begin breaking all ten of the commandments they just heard God utter.
The correlation between knowledge and behavior is not that strong in people. Today we do all sorts of things that are bad for us, but we do them anyway. With spiritual things, the greater the knowledge, the greater the potential for condemnation: “And now, how much more cursed is he that knoweth the will of God and doeth it not, than he that only believeth, or only hath cause to believe, and falleth into transgression?” (Alma 32:19).
One interesting thing about angelic visitations is that the messenger, even when it’s Jesus appearing (look at 3 Nephi, or the First Vision), spends almost all His time quoting scripture. If we want to know what an angel would say to us, we need look no further than the scriptures (unless we are ready to learn something beyond the scriptures or in need of something not written therein).
I think miracles happen when we are doing the Lord’s work, after we have exhausted all our options in accomplishing what He has commanded. Then we are fit to see His hand, His power, reversing the typical arrangements of nature. This is a safer order of events; first let us demonstrate faith through conversion and good works, and then show us miracles. If we are already committed to doing the Lord’s will, we are less likely to fall away after witnessing miracles.
A Greater Miracle
It is easy to get sucked into the mentality of, “What can God do for me?” I have met people who really approached the gospel and membership in the Church with that mindset. They wanted greater convenience and ease in life because of their adherence (and they often expected a down payment from the Lord before they started obeying and observing fully). Bargaining with God is a bad idea, mainly because we are the only thing we have that He wants. He wants His children back, cleansed from sin, and that’s all we have to offer, ultimately. He owns all our money, houses, bodies, and all the rest of it already. Everything obeys Him (except us; our obedience is patchy and inconsistent at best). Yet it is so easy to feel like we are doing the Lord a favor when we fulfill callings in the Church, or pay tithing, or obey in any other way. We feel the Lord “owes” us afterward.
The irony of operating on this emotional and spiritual level is that the Lord has gotten everything from us except what He has asked for—our whole hearts. Laman and Lemuel eventually obeyed every commandment they were given. They left Jerusalem like Nephi; they went back for the plates with Nephi; they invited Ishmael’s family and brought them into the wilderness like Nephi; they helped to build a boat like Nephi; they sailed to the promised land like Nephi. The net result was that their bodies and DNA ended up in the Americas, just like Nephi. They made all the deposits that were required of them (at the point of a gun, figuratively speaking, but they made them). The one thing they never gave to the Lord permanently, successfully, was “the heart and a willing mind” (D&C 64:34). They therefore received all the Lord’s blessings except the intangible ones, the fruits of the Spirit.
Think of how insulting and hurtful it must have been for the Lord—after all He had shown them, they barely even trusted Him.
Swimming and Trusting
There must be a first time for everything. I witnessed a first in the life of a child once. A little girl at a swimming pool was learning the rudiments of swimming. She started out in the hot tub, learning how to float on her back. The water was shallow enough that she could stand up in it. Her father invited her to float in his arms the same way in the deep end of the cold pool, and she balked. He offered to hold her while she floated on her back, but for some reason this arrangement was to frightening to her. He was over 6’ 2”, and so he was tall enough to support her, more than adequately. It was not an issue of the insurmountable nature of the pool; it was a matter of a lack of faith, trust, and courage on her part. I ached for her, but I felt even worse for her father. He loved her greatly, she loved him, and he obviously would have ensured that nothing untoward would have happened to her, but her fear of the water overcame her trust in her Dad. I pitied both of them; one filled with unrequited love, in spite of all his promising and encouragement, the other filled with dread that separated her from her father standing in the deep end of the pool (all five feet of it). Since Daddy plus deep water equals no danger, she was literally afraid of nothing. How often is our relationship with God just like this?
For the girl, a miracle—the ability to walk on water, for instance—would have been the solution to her problem. For her father, the solution would have been different because he saw a worse problem; for him, the problem was that her fear was stronger than her love, trust, and faith in him. He was eager for her to learn how to swim, to build her confidence and skills. He could manage her safety just fine, no problem, whether she was an expert swimmer or a novice. Her goal was safety, which was a piece of cake for him; his goal was to have a daughter that trusted him beyond her fear, which seemed impossible at that moment.
Instead of thinking of our problems in terms of the obstacles that separate us from our convenience and comfort, we can attempt imagine how things look through the eyes of our Heavenly Parent. This yields a much different perspective. Our attitudes are the real problem; the rest of the things we worry about will be solved in the resurrection. This life is not a time for us to see if the Lord is reliable; it is the other way around, a time to see if we are reliable, and if we will rely on Him. (The Lord is not afraid of scrutiny; “prove me,” He says (Mal. 3:10). It’s after He’s proven Himself that we run into real trouble through fear and disobedience.)
Do we have the love, courage, and faith necessary to lie back in His arms and trust that he will not let us sink? That is nearer to the heart of the matter, the test of life we are taking. Yes, miracles do come, but usually to those who would be able to endure their absence in faith, if the Lord said “no” to their urgent requests.
Exercising that kind of faith requires work. It IS work: “Jesus answered and said unto them, This is the work of God, that ye believe on him whom he hath sent” (John 6:29). It is more than suspending disbelief; it is trust in action, overcoming fear. Does anyone trust Him that much?
The Work of Abraham
Obedient, trusting children with limitless love are much harder to come by than instances of walking on water. Jesus was God’s only perfectly obedient child out of billions; all others rebel, or at least mess up at some point. Jesus was the only one who did not deserve to be miserable, yet He went deeper into misery than any of us—He experienced all the misery we have actually earned, and He did it out of obedience and love of God, and love for us.
He did not balk, or turn His face away from His Father through His entire ordeal. We know His half of Their conversation; it is recorded in scripture. He asked for deliverance, His miracle, but He was the miracle instead. When Abraham was taking his dear son Isaac (his name means “laughter”—Abraham and Sarah had waited decades for this child to be born to them, and a miracle made it possible) up the mountain with the intent to sacrifice him (because God had asked it), the duo talked:
“…My father: and he said, Here am I, my son. And he said, Behold the fire and the wood: but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?”
“And Abraham said, My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering…” (Genesis 22:7-8. This prophecy was fulfilled by a ram in the thicket on that mountain, and again when Jesus offered Himself). Abraham then took Isaac, and bound him with cords to sacrifice him. According to tradition, Isaac was 25 years old at the time, and Abraham was 125 years old, so it likely was a willing submission on Isaac’s part. The moment Abraham raised the knife, an angel appeared (and one tradition suggests it was Metatron, another name for Enoch after he and his city were translated) and halted the sacrifice.
The net result was that Abraham didn’t actually DO anything. Isaac stayed alive. They were spared by an angel, a miracle. But we are all commanded to do what Abraham did: “…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). We are commanded, “Go ye, therefore, and do the works of Abraham…” D&C 132:32. The greatest work Abraham did in this pivotal moment in his life (and world history) was in his heart; he offered his most precious possession, Isaac, to God. God owned Abraham’s heart because Abraham had given it freely; he had offered “a broken heart and a contrite spirit” (3Ne. 9:20) in a way unforgettable to any who read his story in Genesis 22. There is nothing miraculous about his outward actions; he loads up a donkey, journeys a few days, ties up his son on a slab of rock, and nearly stabs him. No laws of physics violated here. But his willingness to obey God, his exceeding love for God, his humility and faith, those are miraculous. Walking on water, healing the sick, or raising the dead seem far less difficult.
After Abraham demonstrates such faith, an angel appears. Abraham would not withhold anything from his God, and so nothing was withheld from Him.
We tend to keep our Father in heaven at arm’s length unless things are miserable for us, and so He will often make things miserable for us just to get a sincere acknowledgement every now and then. Abraham did not just sit around waiting for the Lord to smite him into submission; he followed where the Spirit led, and went all the way. Even though his tangible sacrifice was arrested, the internal sacrifice was off the charts, so to speak. How can you even measure that kind of faith, love, and complete trust?
And we must have that kind of trust, and demonstrate it, to be fit to receive miracles, or to enter the presence of God in a permanent fashion.
Miracles come when they are needed, and deserved. They are not to be had cheaply.
Before we start to feel left out because our questions are not answered by open visions or immediate revelations, or our problems are not solved instantly, we can remember that most instances when angels appear or miracles arrive involve people living on the edge of their abilities, trying to discover and do the Lord’s will. The greatest miracle is not to see angels, but for us to submit our will to God, and become like angels through His power as a result of that offering.
Another institute teacher expressed his answer to their question this way: “If you want a Joseph Smith sized testimony, you’re going to have Joseph Smith sized trials.” Yes, the heavens opened for him on many occasions, and he saw God. There is opposition in all things, and he had trials as great as his blessings. False accusations, unjust imprisonment, stillborn babies or children dying in infancy, persecution of his friends while he was helpless in prison, a stubborn and deaf world that would not believe him, and even believing friends who were not ready to hear everything he wanted to share but could not, were a few of the hardships that hounded Joseph Smith throughout his life.
It is my testimony that miracles still happen today, on a regular basis. Most of the time, those who experience them are prompted by the Spirit not to share them, except in private circumstances with particular individuals. Strangely, this is for the benefit of those who are not yet ready to hear them.
Know It Vs. Do It
For those who cannot upgrade their behavior to match their knowledge, witnessing miracles and visions would heap condemnation on their heads. Rarely does witnessing a miracle, by itself, produce lasting good behavior.
Think of Laman and Lemuel, witnessing miracles and even hearing the voice of God and seeing angels. The last we ever hear of them in the Book of Mormon is that they are plotting to murder their prophet-brother Nephi again. The entire tribe of Israel is brought to the foot of Mount Sinai by a series of unforgettable miracles, and when they are invited to come up the mountain and meet Jehovah face to face, they decline the offer, and insist that Moses go up as their representative to get the good word for them. While he is gone up the mountain, they build a golden calf to worship, and begin breaking all ten of the commandments they just heard God utter.
The correlation between knowledge and behavior is not that strong in people. Today we do all sorts of things that are bad for us, but we do them anyway. With spiritual things, the greater the knowledge, the greater the potential for condemnation: “And now, how much more cursed is he that knoweth the will of God and doeth it not, than he that only believeth, or only hath cause to believe, and falleth into transgression?” (Alma 32:19).
One interesting thing about angelic visitations is that the messenger, even when it’s Jesus appearing (look at 3 Nephi, or the First Vision), spends almost all His time quoting scripture. If we want to know what an angel would say to us, we need look no further than the scriptures (unless we are ready to learn something beyond the scriptures or in need of something not written therein).
I think miracles happen when we are doing the Lord’s work, after we have exhausted all our options in accomplishing what He has commanded. Then we are fit to see His hand, His power, reversing the typical arrangements of nature. This is a safer order of events; first let us demonstrate faith through conversion and good works, and then show us miracles. If we are already committed to doing the Lord’s will, we are less likely to fall away after witnessing miracles.
A Greater Miracle
It is easy to get sucked into the mentality of, “What can God do for me?” I have met people who really approached the gospel and membership in the Church with that mindset. They wanted greater convenience and ease in life because of their adherence (and they often expected a down payment from the Lord before they started obeying and observing fully). Bargaining with God is a bad idea, mainly because we are the only thing we have that He wants. He wants His children back, cleansed from sin, and that’s all we have to offer, ultimately. He owns all our money, houses, bodies, and all the rest of it already. Everything obeys Him (except us; our obedience is patchy and inconsistent at best). Yet it is so easy to feel like we are doing the Lord a favor when we fulfill callings in the Church, or pay tithing, or obey in any other way. We feel the Lord “owes” us afterward.
The irony of operating on this emotional and spiritual level is that the Lord has gotten everything from us except what He has asked for—our whole hearts. Laman and Lemuel eventually obeyed every commandment they were given. They left Jerusalem like Nephi; they went back for the plates with Nephi; they invited Ishmael’s family and brought them into the wilderness like Nephi; they helped to build a boat like Nephi; they sailed to the promised land like Nephi. The net result was that their bodies and DNA ended up in the Americas, just like Nephi. They made all the deposits that were required of them (at the point of a gun, figuratively speaking, but they made them). The one thing they never gave to the Lord permanently, successfully, was “the heart and a willing mind” (D&C 64:34). They therefore received all the Lord’s blessings except the intangible ones, the fruits of the Spirit.
Think of how insulting and hurtful it must have been for the Lord—after all He had shown them, they barely even trusted Him.
Swimming and Trusting
There must be a first time for everything. I witnessed a first in the life of a child once. A little girl at a swimming pool was learning the rudiments of swimming. She started out in the hot tub, learning how to float on her back. The water was shallow enough that she could stand up in it. Her father invited her to float in his arms the same way in the deep end of the cold pool, and she balked. He offered to hold her while she floated on her back, but for some reason this arrangement was to frightening to her. He was over 6’ 2”, and so he was tall enough to support her, more than adequately. It was not an issue of the insurmountable nature of the pool; it was a matter of a lack of faith, trust, and courage on her part. I ached for her, but I felt even worse for her father. He loved her greatly, she loved him, and he obviously would have ensured that nothing untoward would have happened to her, but her fear of the water overcame her trust in her Dad. I pitied both of them; one filled with unrequited love, in spite of all his promising and encouragement, the other filled with dread that separated her from her father standing in the deep end of the pool (all five feet of it). Since Daddy plus deep water equals no danger, she was literally afraid of nothing. How often is our relationship with God just like this?
For the girl, a miracle—the ability to walk on water, for instance—would have been the solution to her problem. For her father, the solution would have been different because he saw a worse problem; for him, the problem was that her fear was stronger than her love, trust, and faith in him. He was eager for her to learn how to swim, to build her confidence and skills. He could manage her safety just fine, no problem, whether she was an expert swimmer or a novice. Her goal was safety, which was a piece of cake for him; his goal was to have a daughter that trusted him beyond her fear, which seemed impossible at that moment.
Instead of thinking of our problems in terms of the obstacles that separate us from our convenience and comfort, we can attempt imagine how things look through the eyes of our Heavenly Parent. This yields a much different perspective. Our attitudes are the real problem; the rest of the things we worry about will be solved in the resurrection. This life is not a time for us to see if the Lord is reliable; it is the other way around, a time to see if we are reliable, and if we will rely on Him. (The Lord is not afraid of scrutiny; “prove me,” He says (Mal. 3:10). It’s after He’s proven Himself that we run into real trouble through fear and disobedience.)
Do we have the love, courage, and faith necessary to lie back in His arms and trust that he will not let us sink? That is nearer to the heart of the matter, the test of life we are taking. Yes, miracles do come, but usually to those who would be able to endure their absence in faith, if the Lord said “no” to their urgent requests.
Exercising that kind of faith requires work. It IS work: “Jesus answered and said unto them, This is the work of God, that ye believe on him whom he hath sent” (John 6:29). It is more than suspending disbelief; it is trust in action, overcoming fear. Does anyone trust Him that much?
The Work of Abraham
Obedient, trusting children with limitless love are much harder to come by than instances of walking on water. Jesus was God’s only perfectly obedient child out of billions; all others rebel, or at least mess up at some point. Jesus was the only one who did not deserve to be miserable, yet He went deeper into misery than any of us—He experienced all the misery we have actually earned, and He did it out of obedience and love of God, and love for us.
He did not balk, or turn His face away from His Father through His entire ordeal. We know His half of Their conversation; it is recorded in scripture. He asked for deliverance, His miracle, but He was the miracle instead. When Abraham was taking his dear son Isaac (his name means “laughter”—Abraham and Sarah had waited decades for this child to be born to them, and a miracle made it possible) up the mountain with the intent to sacrifice him (because God had asked it), the duo talked:
“…My father: and he said, Here am I, my son. And he said, Behold the fire and the wood: but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?”
“And Abraham said, My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering…” (Genesis 22:7-8. This prophecy was fulfilled by a ram in the thicket on that mountain, and again when Jesus offered Himself). Abraham then took Isaac, and bound him with cords to sacrifice him. According to tradition, Isaac was 25 years old at the time, and Abraham was 125 years old, so it likely was a willing submission on Isaac’s part. The moment Abraham raised the knife, an angel appeared (and one tradition suggests it was Metatron, another name for Enoch after he and his city were translated) and halted the sacrifice.
The net result was that Abraham didn’t actually DO anything. Isaac stayed alive. They were spared by an angel, a miracle. But we are all commanded to do what Abraham did: “…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). We are commanded, “Go ye, therefore, and do the works of Abraham…” D&C 132:32. The greatest work Abraham did in this pivotal moment in his life (and world history) was in his heart; he offered his most precious possession, Isaac, to God. God owned Abraham’s heart because Abraham had given it freely; he had offered “a broken heart and a contrite spirit” (3Ne. 9:20) in a way unforgettable to any who read his story in Genesis 22. There is nothing miraculous about his outward actions; he loads up a donkey, journeys a few days, ties up his son on a slab of rock, and nearly stabs him. No laws of physics violated here. But his willingness to obey God, his exceeding love for God, his humility and faith, those are miraculous. Walking on water, healing the sick, or raising the dead seem far less difficult.
After Abraham demonstrates such faith, an angel appears. Abraham would not withhold anything from his God, and so nothing was withheld from Him.
We tend to keep our Father in heaven at arm’s length unless things are miserable for us, and so He will often make things miserable for us just to get a sincere acknowledgement every now and then. Abraham did not just sit around waiting for the Lord to smite him into submission; he followed where the Spirit led, and went all the way. Even though his tangible sacrifice was arrested, the internal sacrifice was off the charts, so to speak. How can you even measure that kind of faith, love, and complete trust?
And we must have that kind of trust, and demonstrate it, to be fit to receive miracles, or to enter the presence of God in a permanent fashion.
Miracles come when they are needed, and deserved. They are not to be had cheaply.
Before we start to feel left out because our questions are not answered by open visions or immediate revelations, or our problems are not solved instantly, we can remember that most instances when angels appear or miracles arrive involve people living on the edge of their abilities, trying to discover and do the Lord’s will. The greatest miracle is not to see angels, but for us to submit our will to God, and become like angels through His power as a result of that offering.
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Marriage: An LDS Perspective
What informs the views of members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on marriage? This is my attempt to explain it in layman’s terms.
Follow Through
The first time I fired a shotgun, I was at a scout camp. I was aiming at clay pigeons, and I missed them all horribly. To hit a moving target requires “follow through,” tracking a target before, during, and even after pulling the trigger. You don’t know when the gun will fire exactly, so the target must be lined up in the sights through the entire attempt to hit it.
This need for follow through applies to LDS marriage in a sense. Latter-day Saints see this life as the second act in a three act play. We lived with God as spirits before we were born; we were His spirit children. We agreed to come here and have our memories veiled, to be tested for who and what we really are while in a state of deliberate, but temporary, amnesia. People complain that the brutality of life is proof that there is no God, but the same people demand their freedom to choose. The brutality is, in part, a symptom of our freedom to choose, and God respects it.
LDS conceptions of marriage extend into the third act, the next life. We believe that at its best, marriage lasts forever. Married couples are not preparing just for parenthood, grandparenthood, retirement and death—they are preparing to be married permanently in the eternities, after they are resurrected. The target they are aiming for is beyond death, and requires eternal follow through.
Looking Backward and Forward
In order to understand where we are going, it is helpful to look at where we came from. The entire Christian world has been praying for centuries, “Our father which art in heaven.” Most people who have recited that prayer did not fully comprehend the implications of it. Jesus spoke of “my father,” and “your father.” Latter-day saints take this literally. God is the Father of our spirits. Our spirits are put into our mortal bodies at some point, and we experience this mortal life. Then we experience parenthood for the first time ourselves. We become fathers and mothers.
There are many reasons for putting us through the experience of parenthood. One of them is preparation: this is a practice round. Much has been said by various religions about the point of life, whether there is a heaven or not, and finally, how to get there. What will we be doing in heaven? Floating in a fog of bliss? Playing harps? Losing our identity in some ethereal, beatific cosmic soup of Oneness?
If God is “our father…in heaven,” then we are His children. Children grow up to be like their parents. What does God do? He takes care of his children. Billions of them. In heaven, parents are not single; we are children of heavenly Parents. That is where we came from, and that tells us our ultimate potential, what we have the capacity to become.
If we pass the test of life, and take care of everything else God wants us to, we will be parents in heaven ourselves. Heaven will be based on family.
Gods
Many people from various sects have accused Latter-day saints of blasphemy for believing that it is possible to become like God.
Jesus asked a mob why they wanted to stone Him. “For a good work we stone thee not: but for blasphemy; and because that thou, being a man, makest thyself God.” He responded to their charge of blasphemy by quoting scripture: “Jesus answered them, Is it not written in your law, I said, Ye are gods? If he called them gods, unto whom the word of God came, and the scripture cannot be broken; Say ye of him, whom the Father hath sanctified, and sent into the world, Thou blasphemest; because I said, I am the Son of God?” (John 10:33-36; He was quoting from Psalms 82:6).
If our ultimate destination were to play a harp or float forever, then this life as a test would not make much sense. It is far too brutal to have that as a consolation prize. But if we are being tested on whether or not we qualify to become like God, to do what he does, then the difficult and perplexing nature of life, with its sorrows and bruises of all kinds, is more just and fair. The end goal is so enormous that there is little wonder that life is so demanding. This life is a graduate exam for eternity.
Parenthood
Before we were born, we had only spirit bodies. Because of this, we were incapable of having children. Our Father in heaven had a resurrected physical body; He could have children. We wanted to become like Him, which is the main reason we agreed to His plan to send us here to earth. Setting us free on earth with no memory of our pre-mortal existence with Him was like turning a bunch of children with hatchets loose in a museum full of priceless artwork. Jesus agreed to be our Savior, and pay for all the damage we would do to ourselves and each other. He satisfies justice, and keeps us out of hell if we repent. Avoiding pain is one thing; what about gaining eternal joy?
In heaven, we lived with God for eons before the earth was created. We had the opportunity to receive our first lessons from Him and other Teachers. What could you learn if you had perfect recall, endless time, and access to an all-knowing Teacher? We certainly knew more before we came here to earth than we did after we were born. I suspect we knew more before we were born than the smartest mortals that have ever lived on this earth. We developed many abilities. The one ability we did not have then was the ability to beget children of our own.
Now we are here on earth. Our brains are feeble, and forget easily. A few prodigies show some promise or amazing talents in this or that field, but we last only seventy, maybe a hundred years or so, and we die. What was that brief trip all about? We have one ability here in life that we did not have before this life: the ability to have children. Having children seems like a humdrum, common, everyday thing to us mortals. We dramatize and idolize people with other talents and strengths. Our mortal perspective makes other things look more glamorous. But from an eternal perspective, this life is the first time ever that we are able to do the main thing our Father in heaven does—parenthood.
It is possible to fail at many mortal endeavors. If we distinguish ourselves in the role of parenthood, it will show not only that we can do a difficult thing, but that we are like God in our own small way, and he can magnify us in the resurrection. No success outside the home can compensate for failure in the home. Success as a parent, regardless of how humble the circumstances, is a tiny seed can become a great redwood.
There are many mortal distractions, glitzy entertainments and decoys, diversions we can set our hearts upon that preclude or overshadow parenthood. If we choose motherhood and fatherhood, the roles of spouse and parent, and prioritize them above all else, that preference will demonstrate at the judgment day that we are serious about becoming parents forever, like God.
Those who have their hearts set on something else will be damned; that does not mean tortured forever, it just means stopped. To some extent, not living up to one’s full potential is a form of torture, but it is torture that we choose. Making family our highest priority in life is more than just morally right; it puts us on the path to becoming like God.
Exceptional Circumstances
There are many people who never marry or become parents in this life. Soldiers die in battle, and their sweethearts at home marry someone else. Some people are physically incapable of having children, or just never have the chance to marry. Some people are born with same-sex attraction. Are these people on a circuit for automatic damnation?
No. At some point, everyone will have a chance to accept or reject God’s plan. We think of homosexuality or physical deformities as implacable obstacles. We build even sandbag fortresses of personal identity around these kinds of things, jealously guarding them. These things are mutable for God.
Because of Jesus' resurrection, everyone will be resurrected. At some point our physical bodies will change to more fully resemble our heavenly Parents. What we think of as permanent in our bodies is merely temporary in the Lord's eyes.
God will make male/female couples married forever all-seeing, all-knowing, all-powerful, and no one else, because they are going to have children for eternity, and they will need those abilities and authority to take care of infinite offspring. Begetting children is the main purpose of marriage; even the health of the marriage relationship, love between husband and wife, is important because it plays an essential role in the well being of their children.
Jesus and His disciples saw a man born blind. The disciples asked whether this man or his parents sinned, to cause him to be born blind. “Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him” (John 9:3). As backwards as it seems, we can be saddled with all sorts of physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual malfunctions and challenges in this life, and somehow in the long term, they can play out to great advantage.
Physical flaws and quirks in our physical makeup will be eradicated by the resurrection. Let’s not embrace that which is not temporary as permanent.
Miniature Heaven on Earth
In order for marriages to extend into the next life, they must be performed at altars in sacred temples. An altar is a place where we make commitments and sacrifices to God. The ability to fall in love and have children with someone is merely the equipment necessary to participate in the plan, not a guarantee of success. Coming to the altar loaded down with false expectations is a recipe for misery. Altars anciently were places where animals, the wealth of that time, were sacrificed. Married couples make commitments to each other and their future children that exclude many things, including shopping around for other partners. Trying to create an eternal family and be absorbed in worldly pursuits is like trying to ride two horses; eventually you will prefer just one. If you are doing it properly, marriage will include giving up certain things forever.
Marriage supported by mortal power and intelligence often lacks the long-term staying power to last for mere decades, let alone for eternity. Even those who do not believe in the afterlife will concede that the permanence of marriages forms the bedrock foundation of a stable society. When married couples sacrifice the option of abandoning roles as parents and spouses to go and play, it keeps the fabric of society from tearing by making childhood stable for their children. But does it need to feel like a sacrifice all the time?
Supernatural intervention can keep a marriage not just barely alive, but vital. Jesus brought dead bodies back to life. Healing a relationship is also possible. Notions of love at home may seem merely cuddly, but they are critical. If we learn our duties and do them, we will have the Spirit. It will change our hearts. That will overcome entropy and nature, and allow love in marriage to perpetuate beyond early infatuation. When marriage is a strictly selfish venture, either party may terminate the contract when expectations and needs are unmet. When marriage is part of God’s plan, partners in it have a right to expect divine intervention on their behalf. That includes softening of their hearts towards each other.
The world tends to present marriage with a “what’s in it for me?” spin. What could seem duller than thinking of marriage as a duty, an assignment from God? Yet those who see themselves as fulfilling covenants with God when they approach marriage may receive His power and help to maintain it. The Lord takes care of those who invest themselves in His work. When a couple receives His children into their home to raise them, determined to instruct them about where they came from, and does their best to get those kids back to their Eternal Father, how could He withhold assistance?
Following God
Life is short; we will sacrifice something along the way. Perhaps it is meant to be that way. We show what we want most when we choose between desirable options.
Knowing where we came from and why we are here changes our perspective about what we should prize, and where we are going. The greatest mistake we can make in this life is to have our ladder propped against the wrong wall, to throw our effort after that which is unprofitable or passing. Instead of waiting for heaven, we should be trying to grow heaven here and now. On an individual basis, that means repentance and spiritual rebirth, having our hearts changed. On a group level, that means getting married and creating families.
Being willing to accept flaws and less than ideal circumstances is also important. Aiming for the ideal should not include brutalizing ourselves or others for falling short. God excuses and forgives our shortcomings; being like God surely includes that trait, being generous to ourselves and all others.
Follow Through
The first time I fired a shotgun, I was at a scout camp. I was aiming at clay pigeons, and I missed them all horribly. To hit a moving target requires “follow through,” tracking a target before, during, and even after pulling the trigger. You don’t know when the gun will fire exactly, so the target must be lined up in the sights through the entire attempt to hit it.
This need for follow through applies to LDS marriage in a sense. Latter-day Saints see this life as the second act in a three act play. We lived with God as spirits before we were born; we were His spirit children. We agreed to come here and have our memories veiled, to be tested for who and what we really are while in a state of deliberate, but temporary, amnesia. People complain that the brutality of life is proof that there is no God, but the same people demand their freedom to choose. The brutality is, in part, a symptom of our freedom to choose, and God respects it.
LDS conceptions of marriage extend into the third act, the next life. We believe that at its best, marriage lasts forever. Married couples are not preparing just for parenthood, grandparenthood, retirement and death—they are preparing to be married permanently in the eternities, after they are resurrected. The target they are aiming for is beyond death, and requires eternal follow through.
Looking Backward and Forward
In order to understand where we are going, it is helpful to look at where we came from. The entire Christian world has been praying for centuries, “Our father which art in heaven.” Most people who have recited that prayer did not fully comprehend the implications of it. Jesus spoke of “my father,” and “your father.” Latter-day saints take this literally. God is the Father of our spirits. Our spirits are put into our mortal bodies at some point, and we experience this mortal life. Then we experience parenthood for the first time ourselves. We become fathers and mothers.
There are many reasons for putting us through the experience of parenthood. One of them is preparation: this is a practice round. Much has been said by various religions about the point of life, whether there is a heaven or not, and finally, how to get there. What will we be doing in heaven? Floating in a fog of bliss? Playing harps? Losing our identity in some ethereal, beatific cosmic soup of Oneness?
If God is “our father…in heaven,” then we are His children. Children grow up to be like their parents. What does God do? He takes care of his children. Billions of them. In heaven, parents are not single; we are children of heavenly Parents. That is where we came from, and that tells us our ultimate potential, what we have the capacity to become.
If we pass the test of life, and take care of everything else God wants us to, we will be parents in heaven ourselves. Heaven will be based on family.
Gods
Many people from various sects have accused Latter-day saints of blasphemy for believing that it is possible to become like God.
Jesus asked a mob why they wanted to stone Him. “For a good work we stone thee not: but for blasphemy; and because that thou, being a man, makest thyself God.” He responded to their charge of blasphemy by quoting scripture: “Jesus answered them, Is it not written in your law, I said, Ye are gods? If he called them gods, unto whom the word of God came, and the scripture cannot be broken; Say ye of him, whom the Father hath sanctified, and sent into the world, Thou blasphemest; because I said, I am the Son of God?” (John 10:33-36; He was quoting from Psalms 82:6).
If our ultimate destination were to play a harp or float forever, then this life as a test would not make much sense. It is far too brutal to have that as a consolation prize. But if we are being tested on whether or not we qualify to become like God, to do what he does, then the difficult and perplexing nature of life, with its sorrows and bruises of all kinds, is more just and fair. The end goal is so enormous that there is little wonder that life is so demanding. This life is a graduate exam for eternity.
Parenthood
Before we were born, we had only spirit bodies. Because of this, we were incapable of having children. Our Father in heaven had a resurrected physical body; He could have children. We wanted to become like Him, which is the main reason we agreed to His plan to send us here to earth. Setting us free on earth with no memory of our pre-mortal existence with Him was like turning a bunch of children with hatchets loose in a museum full of priceless artwork. Jesus agreed to be our Savior, and pay for all the damage we would do to ourselves and each other. He satisfies justice, and keeps us out of hell if we repent. Avoiding pain is one thing; what about gaining eternal joy?
In heaven, we lived with God for eons before the earth was created. We had the opportunity to receive our first lessons from Him and other Teachers. What could you learn if you had perfect recall, endless time, and access to an all-knowing Teacher? We certainly knew more before we came here to earth than we did after we were born. I suspect we knew more before we were born than the smartest mortals that have ever lived on this earth. We developed many abilities. The one ability we did not have then was the ability to beget children of our own.
Now we are here on earth. Our brains are feeble, and forget easily. A few prodigies show some promise or amazing talents in this or that field, but we last only seventy, maybe a hundred years or so, and we die. What was that brief trip all about? We have one ability here in life that we did not have before this life: the ability to have children. Having children seems like a humdrum, common, everyday thing to us mortals. We dramatize and idolize people with other talents and strengths. Our mortal perspective makes other things look more glamorous. But from an eternal perspective, this life is the first time ever that we are able to do the main thing our Father in heaven does—parenthood.
It is possible to fail at many mortal endeavors. If we distinguish ourselves in the role of parenthood, it will show not only that we can do a difficult thing, but that we are like God in our own small way, and he can magnify us in the resurrection. No success outside the home can compensate for failure in the home. Success as a parent, regardless of how humble the circumstances, is a tiny seed can become a great redwood.
There are many mortal distractions, glitzy entertainments and decoys, diversions we can set our hearts upon that preclude or overshadow parenthood. If we choose motherhood and fatherhood, the roles of spouse and parent, and prioritize them above all else, that preference will demonstrate at the judgment day that we are serious about becoming parents forever, like God.
Those who have their hearts set on something else will be damned; that does not mean tortured forever, it just means stopped. To some extent, not living up to one’s full potential is a form of torture, but it is torture that we choose. Making family our highest priority in life is more than just morally right; it puts us on the path to becoming like God.
Exceptional Circumstances
There are many people who never marry or become parents in this life. Soldiers die in battle, and their sweethearts at home marry someone else. Some people are physically incapable of having children, or just never have the chance to marry. Some people are born with same-sex attraction. Are these people on a circuit for automatic damnation?
No. At some point, everyone will have a chance to accept or reject God’s plan. We think of homosexuality or physical deformities as implacable obstacles. We build even sandbag fortresses of personal identity around these kinds of things, jealously guarding them. These things are mutable for God.
Because of Jesus' resurrection, everyone will be resurrected. At some point our physical bodies will change to more fully resemble our heavenly Parents. What we think of as permanent in our bodies is merely temporary in the Lord's eyes.
God will make male/female couples married forever all-seeing, all-knowing, all-powerful, and no one else, because they are going to have children for eternity, and they will need those abilities and authority to take care of infinite offspring. Begetting children is the main purpose of marriage; even the health of the marriage relationship, love between husband and wife, is important because it plays an essential role in the well being of their children.
Jesus and His disciples saw a man born blind. The disciples asked whether this man or his parents sinned, to cause him to be born blind. “Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him” (John 9:3). As backwards as it seems, we can be saddled with all sorts of physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual malfunctions and challenges in this life, and somehow in the long term, they can play out to great advantage.
Physical flaws and quirks in our physical makeup will be eradicated by the resurrection. Let’s not embrace that which is not temporary as permanent.
Miniature Heaven on Earth
In order for marriages to extend into the next life, they must be performed at altars in sacred temples. An altar is a place where we make commitments and sacrifices to God. The ability to fall in love and have children with someone is merely the equipment necessary to participate in the plan, not a guarantee of success. Coming to the altar loaded down with false expectations is a recipe for misery. Altars anciently were places where animals, the wealth of that time, were sacrificed. Married couples make commitments to each other and their future children that exclude many things, including shopping around for other partners. Trying to create an eternal family and be absorbed in worldly pursuits is like trying to ride two horses; eventually you will prefer just one. If you are doing it properly, marriage will include giving up certain things forever.
Marriage supported by mortal power and intelligence often lacks the long-term staying power to last for mere decades, let alone for eternity. Even those who do not believe in the afterlife will concede that the permanence of marriages forms the bedrock foundation of a stable society. When married couples sacrifice the option of abandoning roles as parents and spouses to go and play, it keeps the fabric of society from tearing by making childhood stable for their children. But does it need to feel like a sacrifice all the time?
Supernatural intervention can keep a marriage not just barely alive, but vital. Jesus brought dead bodies back to life. Healing a relationship is also possible. Notions of love at home may seem merely cuddly, but they are critical. If we learn our duties and do them, we will have the Spirit. It will change our hearts. That will overcome entropy and nature, and allow love in marriage to perpetuate beyond early infatuation. When marriage is a strictly selfish venture, either party may terminate the contract when expectations and needs are unmet. When marriage is part of God’s plan, partners in it have a right to expect divine intervention on their behalf. That includes softening of their hearts towards each other.
The world tends to present marriage with a “what’s in it for me?” spin. What could seem duller than thinking of marriage as a duty, an assignment from God? Yet those who see themselves as fulfilling covenants with God when they approach marriage may receive His power and help to maintain it. The Lord takes care of those who invest themselves in His work. When a couple receives His children into their home to raise them, determined to instruct them about where they came from, and does their best to get those kids back to their Eternal Father, how could He withhold assistance?
Following God
Life is short; we will sacrifice something along the way. Perhaps it is meant to be that way. We show what we want most when we choose between desirable options.
Knowing where we came from and why we are here changes our perspective about what we should prize, and where we are going. The greatest mistake we can make in this life is to have our ladder propped against the wrong wall, to throw our effort after that which is unprofitable or passing. Instead of waiting for heaven, we should be trying to grow heaven here and now. On an individual basis, that means repentance and spiritual rebirth, having our hearts changed. On a group level, that means getting married and creating families.
Being willing to accept flaws and less than ideal circumstances is also important. Aiming for the ideal should not include brutalizing ourselves or others for falling short. God excuses and forgives our shortcomings; being like God surely includes that trait, being generous to ourselves and all others.
Friday, June 27, 2014
Perspectives On Women And The Priesthood
In the wake of the cry from a few LDS women to ordain women to the priesthood, many people have laid their cards on the table and expressed their thoughts and feelings. I have had several epiphanies on the subject, some of which were so intertwined with my understanding of the Temple that I do not feel comfortable sharing them. My cousin wrote about the roles of men and women on her blog, and summed up one of the ideas that has distilled upon my mind: women are gatekeepers who bring us from the presence of God into the world; men administer the ordinances that take us from this world back into God’s presence. There are many other details and parallels, but that is the nutshell of my understanding of men’s and women’s respective, distinct roles.
The Larger Picture
Though I feel I grasp the underlying principles well enough to explain why there is no degradation in women not being given the priesthood, I feel that even the most blatant revelation describing the symmetry of the system God has created would be insufficient to touch some of the underlying roots of the outcry.
I read much of the literature published online by the movement to ordain women to the priesthood; nowhere in any of it did I read about personal revelation. Religion without revelation is a farce. Either God is there, and revelation is given from Him, or not. In other words, the clamor reflected priorities and personal lives that revolved around something other than God, or obedience to His will.
Jesus told the befuddled crowd, “…My meat is to do the will of him that sent me, and to finish his work” (John 4:34). Difficult, unsavory, and dirty work, Jesus could have added. “My soul is exceedingly sorrowful unto death…Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee; take away this cup from me: nevertheless not what I will, but what thou wilt” (Mark 14:34-36). He did not assert any claim that His status absolved Him from carrying the responsibility to atone for our sins; there was no privileged easy path, even for Him. His world revolved around doing His Father’s will, not around a self-image of prominence or sense of entitlement. Can we be happy with following that example?
Jesus knew the burden He would have to shoulder, and talks aloud to Himself about it: “Now is my soul troubled; and what shall I say? Father save me from this hour: but for this cause came I unto this hour” (John 12:27). We cannot bear His burden, and He saved us from our own burdens, including the price of justice if we will repent. But as He reminds Joseph Smith in Liberty Jail when he begins to complain about his deep anguish and misery at being unjustly imprisoned and separated from his family: “…know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good. The Son of Man hath descended below all things. Art thou greater than he? Therefore, hold on thy way…” (D&C 122:7-9). We all have our own assigned burdens; He is our exemplar here, as in all else.
Are we here on earth to have our pride polished? Is the ultimate source of our happiness intended by the Lord to be self-esteem? It brings happiness of a temporary sort to feel our greatness, to get what feels like deserved praise for a job well-done. But this kind of happiness has a short shelf life. It is like makeup that can smear easily, to borrow an image from Elder Maxwell.
There will always be someone with something we lack, who has superiority of some kind or another. Does that truth disqualify us from happiness? It can, if we rely on self-esteem for strength, hope, and fulfillment.
Our assignment in this life is to demonstrate how low we can bow, not how amazing we can seem in public. If we are denied the privilege of preening, where are all the peace, love, and joy supposed to come from? These good feelings come from an increased portion of the Spirit instead.
THAT is the main ingredient missing from the aforementioned movement; the hand of God, direct interaction with the divine.
If we are not careful to keep our hearts orbiting around the will of God, and choose some other object or objective as the target of our affections, we will find ourselves off balance and threatening to fly off into apostasy.
One of Several Red Herrings
Lehi’s dream recorded in the Book of Mormon is instructive. It tells us about the forces that are meant to keep us from coming to Christ, and drive us away from Him after entering the fold. In his dream, he sees a great and spacious building filled with people dressed in beautiful and expensive clothes, and all of them are pointing fingers at and mocking the people at the Tree of Life. The delicious, sweet fruit of the tree represents the love of God. The people eating the fruit have to sacrifice one of two things: either they must sacrifice the fruit, or they must sacrifice the praise or approval of the well-dressed mockers in the building.
This metaphor is a vivid illustration of one of four temptations aimed at Jesus: the lusts of the flesh, popularity, wealth, and power. If our hearts revolve around any of these, we are liable to fall, even to destroy ourselves. Popularity, or the concern for others’ good opinion and praise, is the temptation that dragged some of the people in Lehi’s dream away from the Tree of Life.
Not ordaining women because they are female is anathema, a flagrant violation of current cultural norms and bylaws. As in Lehi’s dream, a gulf separates the righteous from the norms of the world. The gulf between the world and the gospel expectations and standards will only widen with the passage of time. If we worry about the criticism that comes from living within the priesthood hierarchy of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or any other tenant of the gospel that does not meet the world’s approval, we will find ourselves like someone holding onto the wharf and the bow of a departing ship: eventually we will have to make up our mind and hold onto one or the other. We cannot have both.
Clinging Versus Holding Fast
The group in Lehi’s dream who fell away after arriving at the Tree of Life and eating the fruit got there by merely “clinging” to the iron rod, or the word of God. It is not enough to casually cling; we must hold fast. None of the group who held fast to the iron rod fell away after reaching the Tree and eating the fruit. In fact, they ignored the mockers and scoffers with their fine apparel and massive architecture: “…we heeded them not…For as many as heeded them, had fallen away” (1Ne. 8:33-34).
Many members of the Church are actively receiving revelation, studying the scriptures, and generally trying to obey the original commandment they heard when they were confirmed to “receive the Holy Ghost.” They have had similar epiphanies to mine about women and the priesthood, and many other potentially difficult questions that come to earnest seekers of truth as they explore the scriptures and the Church.
For one who does not have or keep the Spirit, who does not pray and actively listen to and follow personal revelation, no amount of explanation, however accurate and detailed of why certain things are or must be, will adequately satisfy him or her. (Trying to explain difficult questions to someone offended and teetering on the edge of apostasy is like trying to plug every leak in a rapidly-crumbling dam with one’s fingers; even an octopus could not do it.) To one who thinks that happiness is meant to flow from praise or a sense of entitlement instead of the added portion of the Spirit given to those who are humble, the scriptures will remain a confusing series of contradictions.
Undignified Recipe
How are we to be happy? The prescription is unbearable to most: “…if ye have known of his (God’s) goodness and have tasted of his love (remember the Tree of Life?), and have received a remission of your sins, which causeth such exceedingly great joy in your souls (what a relief, forgiveness), even so I would that ye should remember, and always retain in remembrance, (here it comes!) the greatness of God, and your own nothingness (ouch! My pride!), and his goodness and long-suffering towards you (how condescending!), unworthy creatures (that’s just plain rude!), and humble yourselves even in the depths of humility (what about my positive self-image? Isn’t that the key to happiness?), calling on the name of the Lord daily (like I’m going to do that after such an insulting rant against my feelings and self worth!), and standing steadfastly in the faith of that which is to come, which was spoken of by the mouth of the angel (Jesus Christ).” What do we get in exchange for all this self-abuse?
“And behold, I say unto you that if ye do this ye shall always rejoice, and be filled with the love of God (the fruit of the Tree of Life!), and always retain a remission of your sins; and ye shall grow in the knowledge of the glory of him that created you, or in the knowledge of that which is just and true” (Mosiah 4:11-12). I read that passage for years, but I got so hung up on the “unworthy creatures” bit that I did not recognize a promise of perpetual rejoicing.
Wallowing in self-abusive language is not the key to rejoicing; deferring to the truth, even when it is ugly or inconvenient, allows us to receive a large portion of the Spirit, and THAT fills us with joy. That’s what true humility consists of; deference to the truth (willing obedience to God, acknowledging our helpless dependence on Him, exhibiting faith in Christ as trust through action, etc.) is the main ingredient.
Happiness is not about having an exalted opinion of one’s self, and I believe that great misconception, that conflation of the gospel with the current popular philosophies of the world, lies at the root of all sorts of misdirection and irritation with the Church, its authorities, and the gospel. When we expect happiness to arise out of pleasant internal cognitive processes, all we can swallow is flattery. When we involve a Third Party, the Godhead, suddenly there is potential to break all sorts of ironclad rules, and cheat our way to happiness without letting go of the ugly truths in the mirror (or missing some of the pleasant ones, also part of the truth. Despite our current condition, we are children of God, destined for His presence and becoming like Him.). We can plug into a source of joy not dependent on feeling better than others, or even at least as good as others.
A Decoy of Fulfillment
Even if women were to be ordained just as they requested, those who had requested it would soon find that someone somewhere else had something else they did not possess, and the process of discontent and demanding would begin again. Plugging into a heavenly source of joy means circumventing all that self-entitlement, retiring from the rat race, letting the Joneses keep their yachts and mansions without jealousy, and feasting on the pure source, the sweetest thing of all, the love of God imparted by the Holy Ghost. The greater our humility, faith, and submission, the greater the portion of this Spirit we get; the greater the portion of our joy.
There is not enough prestige and position and authority and praise in all the world to fill the emptiness that comes without the Spirit; with receiving a sufficient portion comes a sense of satisfaction and peace that leaves the people in the great and spacious building baffled, sweating on their treadmills of worldly achievement that ultimately lead nowhere. How can you just sit there when there is so much to do before we can be happy? Easily; I am eating the sweetest of all fruit, the love of God.
(It is worth noting that the love of God is depicted as fruit. Unlike grains and other crops that require plowing, planting, fertilizing, irrigation, harvesting, winnowing, milling, baking, etc., fruit is simply picked and eaten off the vine for free. It is not part of the world's economic structure. All we have to do is get to the point where it is served. Do we earn it or deserve it? No, not really. Is it given away freely? YES, very freely to anyone who can find his or her humble.)
The movement calling for the ordination of women is symptomatic of larger misunderstandings. “And they did murmur because they knew not the dealings of that God who had created them” (1Ne. 2:12). A bogus interpretation of the gospel, mingled with the self-esteem philosophies of the world, divorced from personal revelation, is bound to have worse consequences in the end than a fairly dignified and erudite cry to rearrange the plan of salvation. It takes the humility demonstrated by Jesus in submitting to the will of our Father in heaven to swallow all the bitterness we may be assigned and expected to endure in mortality, even if it means being embarrassed about doctrines and practices of the Church in front of our friends, members of the Church or not.
In short, unless we are in constant contact with God via the Holy Ghost we will fall. That is the difference between the five wise and five foolish virgins; the oil in the lamps represents the Spirit (see D&C 45:56-57); those who are wise will be the ones who have done what it takes to receive and keep an added measure.
The Larger Picture
Though I feel I grasp the underlying principles well enough to explain why there is no degradation in women not being given the priesthood, I feel that even the most blatant revelation describing the symmetry of the system God has created would be insufficient to touch some of the underlying roots of the outcry.
I read much of the literature published online by the movement to ordain women to the priesthood; nowhere in any of it did I read about personal revelation. Religion without revelation is a farce. Either God is there, and revelation is given from Him, or not. In other words, the clamor reflected priorities and personal lives that revolved around something other than God, or obedience to His will.
Jesus told the befuddled crowd, “…My meat is to do the will of him that sent me, and to finish his work” (John 4:34). Difficult, unsavory, and dirty work, Jesus could have added. “My soul is exceedingly sorrowful unto death…Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee; take away this cup from me: nevertheless not what I will, but what thou wilt” (Mark 14:34-36). He did not assert any claim that His status absolved Him from carrying the responsibility to atone for our sins; there was no privileged easy path, even for Him. His world revolved around doing His Father’s will, not around a self-image of prominence or sense of entitlement. Can we be happy with following that example?
Jesus knew the burden He would have to shoulder, and talks aloud to Himself about it: “Now is my soul troubled; and what shall I say? Father save me from this hour: but for this cause came I unto this hour” (John 12:27). We cannot bear His burden, and He saved us from our own burdens, including the price of justice if we will repent. But as He reminds Joseph Smith in Liberty Jail when he begins to complain about his deep anguish and misery at being unjustly imprisoned and separated from his family: “…know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good. The Son of Man hath descended below all things. Art thou greater than he? Therefore, hold on thy way…” (D&C 122:7-9). We all have our own assigned burdens; He is our exemplar here, as in all else.
Are we here on earth to have our pride polished? Is the ultimate source of our happiness intended by the Lord to be self-esteem? It brings happiness of a temporary sort to feel our greatness, to get what feels like deserved praise for a job well-done. But this kind of happiness has a short shelf life. It is like makeup that can smear easily, to borrow an image from Elder Maxwell.
There will always be someone with something we lack, who has superiority of some kind or another. Does that truth disqualify us from happiness? It can, if we rely on self-esteem for strength, hope, and fulfillment.
Our assignment in this life is to demonstrate how low we can bow, not how amazing we can seem in public. If we are denied the privilege of preening, where are all the peace, love, and joy supposed to come from? These good feelings come from an increased portion of the Spirit instead.
THAT is the main ingredient missing from the aforementioned movement; the hand of God, direct interaction with the divine.
If we are not careful to keep our hearts orbiting around the will of God, and choose some other object or objective as the target of our affections, we will find ourselves off balance and threatening to fly off into apostasy.
One of Several Red Herrings
Lehi’s dream recorded in the Book of Mormon is instructive. It tells us about the forces that are meant to keep us from coming to Christ, and drive us away from Him after entering the fold. In his dream, he sees a great and spacious building filled with people dressed in beautiful and expensive clothes, and all of them are pointing fingers at and mocking the people at the Tree of Life. The delicious, sweet fruit of the tree represents the love of God. The people eating the fruit have to sacrifice one of two things: either they must sacrifice the fruit, or they must sacrifice the praise or approval of the well-dressed mockers in the building.
This metaphor is a vivid illustration of one of four temptations aimed at Jesus: the lusts of the flesh, popularity, wealth, and power. If our hearts revolve around any of these, we are liable to fall, even to destroy ourselves. Popularity, or the concern for others’ good opinion and praise, is the temptation that dragged some of the people in Lehi’s dream away from the Tree of Life.
Not ordaining women because they are female is anathema, a flagrant violation of current cultural norms and bylaws. As in Lehi’s dream, a gulf separates the righteous from the norms of the world. The gulf between the world and the gospel expectations and standards will only widen with the passage of time. If we worry about the criticism that comes from living within the priesthood hierarchy of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or any other tenant of the gospel that does not meet the world’s approval, we will find ourselves like someone holding onto the wharf and the bow of a departing ship: eventually we will have to make up our mind and hold onto one or the other. We cannot have both.
Clinging Versus Holding Fast
The group in Lehi’s dream who fell away after arriving at the Tree of Life and eating the fruit got there by merely “clinging” to the iron rod, or the word of God. It is not enough to casually cling; we must hold fast. None of the group who held fast to the iron rod fell away after reaching the Tree and eating the fruit. In fact, they ignored the mockers and scoffers with their fine apparel and massive architecture: “…we heeded them not…For as many as heeded them, had fallen away” (1Ne. 8:33-34).
Many members of the Church are actively receiving revelation, studying the scriptures, and generally trying to obey the original commandment they heard when they were confirmed to “receive the Holy Ghost.” They have had similar epiphanies to mine about women and the priesthood, and many other potentially difficult questions that come to earnest seekers of truth as they explore the scriptures and the Church.
For one who does not have or keep the Spirit, who does not pray and actively listen to and follow personal revelation, no amount of explanation, however accurate and detailed of why certain things are or must be, will adequately satisfy him or her. (Trying to explain difficult questions to someone offended and teetering on the edge of apostasy is like trying to plug every leak in a rapidly-crumbling dam with one’s fingers; even an octopus could not do it.) To one who thinks that happiness is meant to flow from praise or a sense of entitlement instead of the added portion of the Spirit given to those who are humble, the scriptures will remain a confusing series of contradictions.
Undignified Recipe
How are we to be happy? The prescription is unbearable to most: “…if ye have known of his (God’s) goodness and have tasted of his love (remember the Tree of Life?), and have received a remission of your sins, which causeth such exceedingly great joy in your souls (what a relief, forgiveness), even so I would that ye should remember, and always retain in remembrance, (here it comes!) the greatness of God, and your own nothingness (ouch! My pride!), and his goodness and long-suffering towards you (how condescending!), unworthy creatures (that’s just plain rude!), and humble yourselves even in the depths of humility (what about my positive self-image? Isn’t that the key to happiness?), calling on the name of the Lord daily (like I’m going to do that after such an insulting rant against my feelings and self worth!), and standing steadfastly in the faith of that which is to come, which was spoken of by the mouth of the angel (Jesus Christ).” What do we get in exchange for all this self-abuse?
“And behold, I say unto you that if ye do this ye shall always rejoice, and be filled with the love of God (the fruit of the Tree of Life!), and always retain a remission of your sins; and ye shall grow in the knowledge of the glory of him that created you, or in the knowledge of that which is just and true” (Mosiah 4:11-12). I read that passage for years, but I got so hung up on the “unworthy creatures” bit that I did not recognize a promise of perpetual rejoicing.
Wallowing in self-abusive language is not the key to rejoicing; deferring to the truth, even when it is ugly or inconvenient, allows us to receive a large portion of the Spirit, and THAT fills us with joy. That’s what true humility consists of; deference to the truth (willing obedience to God, acknowledging our helpless dependence on Him, exhibiting faith in Christ as trust through action, etc.) is the main ingredient.
Happiness is not about having an exalted opinion of one’s self, and I believe that great misconception, that conflation of the gospel with the current popular philosophies of the world, lies at the root of all sorts of misdirection and irritation with the Church, its authorities, and the gospel. When we expect happiness to arise out of pleasant internal cognitive processes, all we can swallow is flattery. When we involve a Third Party, the Godhead, suddenly there is potential to break all sorts of ironclad rules, and cheat our way to happiness without letting go of the ugly truths in the mirror (or missing some of the pleasant ones, also part of the truth. Despite our current condition, we are children of God, destined for His presence and becoming like Him.). We can plug into a source of joy not dependent on feeling better than others, or even at least as good as others.
A Decoy of Fulfillment
Even if women were to be ordained just as they requested, those who had requested it would soon find that someone somewhere else had something else they did not possess, and the process of discontent and demanding would begin again. Plugging into a heavenly source of joy means circumventing all that self-entitlement, retiring from the rat race, letting the Joneses keep their yachts and mansions without jealousy, and feasting on the pure source, the sweetest thing of all, the love of God imparted by the Holy Ghost. The greater our humility, faith, and submission, the greater the portion of this Spirit we get; the greater the portion of our joy.
There is not enough prestige and position and authority and praise in all the world to fill the emptiness that comes without the Spirit; with receiving a sufficient portion comes a sense of satisfaction and peace that leaves the people in the great and spacious building baffled, sweating on their treadmills of worldly achievement that ultimately lead nowhere. How can you just sit there when there is so much to do before we can be happy? Easily; I am eating the sweetest of all fruit, the love of God.
(It is worth noting that the love of God is depicted as fruit. Unlike grains and other crops that require plowing, planting, fertilizing, irrigation, harvesting, winnowing, milling, baking, etc., fruit is simply picked and eaten off the vine for free. It is not part of the world's economic structure. All we have to do is get to the point where it is served. Do we earn it or deserve it? No, not really. Is it given away freely? YES, very freely to anyone who can find his or her humble.)
The movement calling for the ordination of women is symptomatic of larger misunderstandings. “And they did murmur because they knew not the dealings of that God who had created them” (1Ne. 2:12). A bogus interpretation of the gospel, mingled with the self-esteem philosophies of the world, divorced from personal revelation, is bound to have worse consequences in the end than a fairly dignified and erudite cry to rearrange the plan of salvation. It takes the humility demonstrated by Jesus in submitting to the will of our Father in heaven to swallow all the bitterness we may be assigned and expected to endure in mortality, even if it means being embarrassed about doctrines and practices of the Church in front of our friends, members of the Church or not.
In short, unless we are in constant contact with God via the Holy Ghost we will fall. That is the difference between the five wise and five foolish virgins; the oil in the lamps represents the Spirit (see D&C 45:56-57); those who are wise will be the ones who have done what it takes to receive and keep an added measure.
Saturday, June 7, 2014
Poor Wayfaring Men of Contempt
The main undercurrent I detected in this recent General Conference was that we ought to brace ourselves for increases in persecution. This theme cropped up again and again, and I winced (because I hate conflict and strife above almost everything else. I would rather get a root canal than listen to people argue).
I got a taste of it recently.
I was waiting for someone to show up at a restaurant awhile ago, and a man, apparently homeless, was sitting in one of the outdoor chairs. He greeted me by commenting on the music piping through the speakers, proud that he had "lived through" the era from which it came.
While I stood there and waited for someone else, I listened to this man talk. He was a volcano of contempt. He took a stab at Mormons, and then everyone else.
Respect For Agency
D&C 121 contains what I think of as a guide to navigate through the treacherous shoals of others' agency. God holds agency so precious that He will frequently allow mortals to abuse one another rather than intervene. God allows people to harm themselves, too. He expects those who follow him to exhibit similar attitudes (most of the time). Agency is sacrosanct in the plan. Freedom to choose is rule number one in the game of life that He has designed, through which we are passing. (Parents may keep children from running into physical danger; adults managing other accountable adults without invitation are another matter.)
Politics is uncivil now precisely because it is accepted as standard practice to criticize others, and demand that they change their behavior regardless of obtaining their permission to give them orders.
The word "devil" literally means "accuser" (see Rev. 12:10). Jesus gave us the basic rule: Judge not. He qualified the rule in certain circumstances, but when we stray from the basic guidelines, especially those outlined in D&C 121, we immediately lose the Spirit, are under Satan's influence, and begin to exhibit his characteristics. Accusing others (even TRUE accusations) puts us in the role of doing Satan's job for him.
Joseph Smith taught the first members of the Relief Society, "If you do not accuse each other, God will not accuse you. If you have no accuser you will enter heaven, and if you will follow the revelations and instructions which God gives you through me, I will take you into heaven as my back load. If you will not accuse me, I will not accuse you. If you will throw a cloak of charity over my sins, I will over yours—for charity covereth a multitude of sins" (History of the Church, 4:445).
We don't even have to open our mouths in order to lose the Spirit, though:
"...when we undertake to cover our sins, or to gratify our pride, our vain ambition, or to exercise control or dominion or compulsion upon the souls of the children of men, in any degree of unrighteousness, behold, the heavens withdraw themselves; the Spirit of the Lord is grieved; and when it is withdrawn, Amen to the priesthood or the authority of that man. Behold, ere he is aware, he is left unto himself, to kick against the pricks, to persecute the saints, and to fight against God" (D&C 121:37-38). If we begin to assume the role of compelling people to do the right thing (remember, that was Satan's version of the plan of salvation), we begin to experience all the symptoms of his rebellion. We think of abominable acts as the leading characteristic of evil people; the arguments of Satan during the war in heaven were couched in terms of righteousness, self-righteousness (No sin will be allowed; everybody will be saved; etc.).
D&C 121 protects the would-be critic, as well as the intended target of that criticism. The homeless man who assaulted my ears had at least one thing in common with the shadowy overlords who were oppressing him: they both feel entitled to compel other people to do their bidding, to give orders without consent of the ordered.
Yes, people actually are doing bad things, but the mere fact that we have the truth about them does not qualify us to criticize, or accuse them. Yes, people are doing evil things in high places (and plenty in low ones, too), but that does not license us to police the world and compel people to do the right thing.
The Proper Limits of Criticism
One qualification Jesus gave for examining others' flaws was the mote/beam criteria: If you are doing things that are worse than the infractions committed by the person you intend to critique, repent before you attempt to cure them of their sins. Take the telephone pole out of our own eye before we try to remove the splinters from someone else's.
So the arena of political discourse is a slum ruled over by evil feelings and darkness, because the general rules of conduct fall outside the guidelines provided by the Savior.
One of the most beautiful phrases in the scriptures is "without compulsory means." A nursery rhyme provides an evocative visual:
Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep
And doesn't know where to find them;
Leave them alone and they'll come home,
Wagging their tails behind them.
God operates in the same fashion: "All truth is independent in that sphere in which God has placed it, to act for itself, as all intelligence also..." (D&C 93:30). Occasionally we bump into immovable objects, like the fool who disbelieves in gravity and walks off a cliff; our agency is not being violated, but curtailed by the unavoidable consequences of using it poorly. But for the most part, the wicked, not God, destroy themselves. Those who have made covenants and signed their lives over to Him are more likely to be "chastened" (for education and growth, not for cruelty). There are many things which we see as unacceptable that God views with a more lenient, hands-off eye.
Love Unfeigned and Influence
Anna Leonowens (of King and I fame) had a massive impact on the destiny of the nation of Siam (now Thailand). Many legends have cropped up around her, but the fact remains that the young prince Chulalongkorn she trained became king and abolished the ancient traditions of slavery and compulsory servitude in Siam.
What gave her such great influence? Where did the opportunity come from?
I was not present to witness her experiences, but may I suggest that, perhaps, it came from her willingness to get dressed up and be respectful of other people and their customs. The homeless man who confronted me at the restaurant was embittered by the burden of injustices heaped on US citizens, and the dishonesty that infects our government, as are many, many others in America today. For all his teeth-grinding and vitriol, I fear that this homeless crusader will have very little impact on society. Why? Because he is unwilling to play the game; even to take a bath. How can he sway people or change public opinion if drives people off? If he is not like the people he wants to change, or at least actively exuding love toward them, who will listen to him?
Ammon understood that argument would be fruitless in his missionary labors to the Lamanites—he determined to win their hearts first, THEN preach to them; getting his toe through the door, winning their stubborn hearts, was the beginning of radical political swings in Nephite/Lamanite relationships, and the war chapters hinge on the outcome of his parlay, the truths they accepted from him. Love, not knowledge, was the key to persuading them; the olive branch, not the sword, let him succeed.
Nothing gives us such immense influence over others as unabashed love toward them.
Getting It Right
Before we are allowed to criticize anyone, we must first receive the ACTIVE promptings of the Holy Ghost to do so (no just the absence of being forbidden to do so):
"Reproving betimes with sharpness, when moved upon by the Holy Ghost; and then showing forth afterwards an increase of love toward him whom thou hast reproved, lest he esteem thee to be his enemy;
"That he may know that thy faithfulness is stronger than the cords of death.
"Let thy bowels also be full of charity towards all men, and to the household of faith, and let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly; then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God; and the doctrine of the priesthood shall distil upon thy soul as the dews from heaven.
"The Holy Ghost shall be thy constant companion, and thy scepter an unchanging scepter of righteousness and truth; and thy dominion shall be an everlasting dominion, and without compulsory means it shall flow unto thee forever and ever" (D&C 121:43-46).
A good rule of thumb might be: If you don't follow up criticism with an outpouring of love, it probably wasn't inspired.
Our contempt for sin will not do nearly as much to save others as our love for sinners, and our sincere desire to get them to Jesus, who can actually remove sin from their hearts. The only way to destroy evil is to convert it and turn it to good; killing sinners (or even merely criticizing them) just sends them to a different address.
I got a taste of it recently.
I was waiting for someone to show up at a restaurant awhile ago, and a man, apparently homeless, was sitting in one of the outdoor chairs. He greeted me by commenting on the music piping through the speakers, proud that he had "lived through" the era from which it came.
While I stood there and waited for someone else, I listened to this man talk. He was a volcano of contempt. He took a stab at Mormons, and then everyone else.
Respect For Agency
D&C 121 contains what I think of as a guide to navigate through the treacherous shoals of others' agency. God holds agency so precious that He will frequently allow mortals to abuse one another rather than intervene. God allows people to harm themselves, too. He expects those who follow him to exhibit similar attitudes (most of the time). Agency is sacrosanct in the plan. Freedom to choose is rule number one in the game of life that He has designed, through which we are passing. (Parents may keep children from running into physical danger; adults managing other accountable adults without invitation are another matter.)
Politics is uncivil now precisely because it is accepted as standard practice to criticize others, and demand that they change their behavior regardless of obtaining their permission to give them orders.
The word "devil" literally means "accuser" (see Rev. 12:10). Jesus gave us the basic rule: Judge not. He qualified the rule in certain circumstances, but when we stray from the basic guidelines, especially those outlined in D&C 121, we immediately lose the Spirit, are under Satan's influence, and begin to exhibit his characteristics. Accusing others (even TRUE accusations) puts us in the role of doing Satan's job for him.
Joseph Smith taught the first members of the Relief Society, "If you do not accuse each other, God will not accuse you. If you have no accuser you will enter heaven, and if you will follow the revelations and instructions which God gives you through me, I will take you into heaven as my back load. If you will not accuse me, I will not accuse you. If you will throw a cloak of charity over my sins, I will over yours—for charity covereth a multitude of sins" (History of the Church, 4:445).
We don't even have to open our mouths in order to lose the Spirit, though:
"...when we undertake to cover our sins, or to gratify our pride, our vain ambition, or to exercise control or dominion or compulsion upon the souls of the children of men, in any degree of unrighteousness, behold, the heavens withdraw themselves; the Spirit of the Lord is grieved; and when it is withdrawn, Amen to the priesthood or the authority of that man. Behold, ere he is aware, he is left unto himself, to kick against the pricks, to persecute the saints, and to fight against God" (D&C 121:37-38). If we begin to assume the role of compelling people to do the right thing (remember, that was Satan's version of the plan of salvation), we begin to experience all the symptoms of his rebellion. We think of abominable acts as the leading characteristic of evil people; the arguments of Satan during the war in heaven were couched in terms of righteousness, self-righteousness (No sin will be allowed; everybody will be saved; etc.).
D&C 121 protects the would-be critic, as well as the intended target of that criticism. The homeless man who assaulted my ears had at least one thing in common with the shadowy overlords who were oppressing him: they both feel entitled to compel other people to do their bidding, to give orders without consent of the ordered.
Yes, people actually are doing bad things, but the mere fact that we have the truth about them does not qualify us to criticize, or accuse them. Yes, people are doing evil things in high places (and plenty in low ones, too), but that does not license us to police the world and compel people to do the right thing.
The Proper Limits of Criticism
One qualification Jesus gave for examining others' flaws was the mote/beam criteria: If you are doing things that are worse than the infractions committed by the person you intend to critique, repent before you attempt to cure them of their sins. Take the telephone pole out of our own eye before we try to remove the splinters from someone else's.
So the arena of political discourse is a slum ruled over by evil feelings and darkness, because the general rules of conduct fall outside the guidelines provided by the Savior.
One of the most beautiful phrases in the scriptures is "without compulsory means." A nursery rhyme provides an evocative visual:
Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep
And doesn't know where to find them;
Leave them alone and they'll come home,
Wagging their tails behind them.
God operates in the same fashion: "All truth is independent in that sphere in which God has placed it, to act for itself, as all intelligence also..." (D&C 93:30). Occasionally we bump into immovable objects, like the fool who disbelieves in gravity and walks off a cliff; our agency is not being violated, but curtailed by the unavoidable consequences of using it poorly. But for the most part, the wicked, not God, destroy themselves. Those who have made covenants and signed their lives over to Him are more likely to be "chastened" (for education and growth, not for cruelty). There are many things which we see as unacceptable that God views with a more lenient, hands-off eye.
Love Unfeigned and Influence
Anna Leonowens (of King and I fame) had a massive impact on the destiny of the nation of Siam (now Thailand). Many legends have cropped up around her, but the fact remains that the young prince Chulalongkorn she trained became king and abolished the ancient traditions of slavery and compulsory servitude in Siam.
What gave her such great influence? Where did the opportunity come from?
I was not present to witness her experiences, but may I suggest that, perhaps, it came from her willingness to get dressed up and be respectful of other people and their customs. The homeless man who confronted me at the restaurant was embittered by the burden of injustices heaped on US citizens, and the dishonesty that infects our government, as are many, many others in America today. For all his teeth-grinding and vitriol, I fear that this homeless crusader will have very little impact on society. Why? Because he is unwilling to play the game; even to take a bath. How can he sway people or change public opinion if drives people off? If he is not like the people he wants to change, or at least actively exuding love toward them, who will listen to him?
Ammon understood that argument would be fruitless in his missionary labors to the Lamanites—he determined to win their hearts first, THEN preach to them; getting his toe through the door, winning their stubborn hearts, was the beginning of radical political swings in Nephite/Lamanite relationships, and the war chapters hinge on the outcome of his parlay, the truths they accepted from him. Love, not knowledge, was the key to persuading them; the olive branch, not the sword, let him succeed.
Nothing gives us such immense influence over others as unabashed love toward them.
Getting It Right
Before we are allowed to criticize anyone, we must first receive the ACTIVE promptings of the Holy Ghost to do so (no just the absence of being forbidden to do so):
"Reproving betimes with sharpness, when moved upon by the Holy Ghost; and then showing forth afterwards an increase of love toward him whom thou hast reproved, lest he esteem thee to be his enemy;
"That he may know that thy faithfulness is stronger than the cords of death.
"Let thy bowels also be full of charity towards all men, and to the household of faith, and let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly; then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God; and the doctrine of the priesthood shall distil upon thy soul as the dews from heaven.
"The Holy Ghost shall be thy constant companion, and thy scepter an unchanging scepter of righteousness and truth; and thy dominion shall be an everlasting dominion, and without compulsory means it shall flow unto thee forever and ever" (D&C 121:43-46).
A good rule of thumb might be: If you don't follow up criticism with an outpouring of love, it probably wasn't inspired.
Our contempt for sin will not do nearly as much to save others as our love for sinners, and our sincere desire to get them to Jesus, who can actually remove sin from their hearts. The only way to destroy evil is to convert it and turn it to good; killing sinners (or even merely criticizing them) just sends them to a different address.
Friday, June 6, 2014
Thoughts About the Mechanics of the Atonement
"For the mystery of godliness, how great it is!" (D&C 19:10). One of the mysteries is the Atonement. This is no idle question; everything hangs on understanding and applying it.
I would like to take a stab at a question that various people have scratched their heads at and gone on with the umbrella statement that there are certain things we don’t know: What caused the pain of the Atonement?
Why the Atonement had to happen is fairly easy to grasp; economic metaphors, the three dimensional learning devices nature of animal sacrifice and ordinances, and other scriptural teaching devices help us to understand our accountability and our need for someone to help us out of the hole we have dug for ourselves. But many parts are not so easy to grasp; the questions of how the Atonement was worked out defy mortal comprehension—they all terminate in superlatives.
Source of Joy
Joseph Smith spoke of the First Vision in terms of light. As soon as the light appeared, Satan left him. One account of the First Vision said that he expected the light to start the surrounding forest on fire. He also wrote that for many days afterward, the experience filled him with great love and joy.
He said in one account of the experience, "A pillar of fire appeared above my head; which presently rested down upon me, and filled me with unspeakable joy" (Joseph Smith's First Vision, by Milton V. Backman Jr., p. 159)
What few snippets of quotation we get from the Lord during that vision have little to do with love or joy. Jesus expresses His displeasure with the corrupt preachers and the general sinful activities of the inhabitants of the earth, telling Joseph that He plans on destroying the whole lot at the Second Coming. This is dire; why did the encounter with God and the Son fill him with such great love and joy? We can derive at least one reason from the account: Because of the light they radiated—Joseph got to "enjoy" (D&C 130:2 says) eternal glory for a brief moment while in mortality, not just with a spirit body, but with a physical body at the same time as well. He got a taste of the celestial kingdom during his mortal probation, and the memory probably carried him through a life that would have shattered a man not so fortified.
D&C 88 teaches that when we fulfill the measure of our creation (whatever activities that may include) we are given a portion of glory, glory that has a celestial quality. We do not receive a fullness until after we are resurrected, but we are plugged into a celestial circuit, so to speak, anyway. Performing, or even diligently attempting or sincerely intending ("willing," the sacrament prayer says) to perform one’s work brings the Spirit; the Spirit empowers us to complete our work. "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me…" (Isa. 61:1). Isaiah then lists the duties, a job description, of the Messiah. That is the general idea behind anointing; we are assigned a certain task, and when we are anointed, the Spirit comes upon us to a great enough degree to allow us to accomplish our duties. So grace is delivered by the Spirit; the Spirit is received in what the scriptures call "portions," which can increase or decrease in size. The bigger the portion, the greater the grace.
Even if we are not receiving a portion of the Spirit that is great enough to be plainly visible, viz. Joseph Smith during the First Vision, we are still able to receive enough that it imparts peace, love, and joy, as well as power in the priesthood, and activating other spiritual gifts.
Source of Pain
Hell has been described and envisioned as a burning pit of sulfur, but that is only true in a metaphorical, poetic sense. The clinical description, "outer darkness," gives the true essence of what hell is: the complete absence of light. Just as the Spirit quickens and invigorates, so its absence is all that is required for life and matter itself to unravel. To destroy the universe would be an act of omission, not commission, for God; simply withdraw His sustaining influence, and everything would disintegrate. The maelstrom of chaos is the forwarding address of hell. By contrast, God dwells in everlasting burnings: “[The angels] reside in the presence of God, on a globe like a sea of glass and fire, where all things for their glory are manifest, past, present, and future, and are continually before the Lord” (D&C 130:7). And if we can make it back into His presence with a celestial, resurrected body, we will have a fullness of His joy.
In D&C 19:20, Jesus warns, "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." Earlier in section 19, he is describing His Atonement; in other words, the sustaining light of God was deliberately and completely withdrawn from Him during the Atonement. He experienced outer darkness while on earth in mortality.
Alma the younger had a similar experience. But while Alma was in his coma, what was he suffering for? He was incapable of atoning for his own sins; why would the loving Savior put him through hell? 3Ne. 9:20 tells us that those who come to Christ with broken hearts and contrite spirits will be born again, baptized with fire and with the Holy Ghost. As the sustaining light was withdrawn from him, Alma's heart and spirit were being broken ("punctured" is the literal translation of "contrite" from Old Testament Hebrew) to the point that he could experience the mighty change of heart. Jesus’ suffering already paid for all sin; the point of punishment, here or hereafter, is to humble us so we can be reborn and rid of the DESIRE to sin, sinfulness. It may satisfy justice to a degree, but not enough to merit any joy by it. We cannot pay our own way; we spend our ability to do so when we sin, a catch-22. Those who are penniless and in debt are unable to pay their debts.
Jesus took our names, our identities, ergo our punishments, onto Himself in the Garden and on the Cross. The punishment for sin is the loss of the light, the Spirit. We try to take His name, his reputation, and identity, upon ourselves. This means we get to enjoy some of His powers and privileges, including always having His Spirit to be with us (see Isa. 61:1). As He suffers the punishments we earned, we experience the peace, love, joy, and power He deserved, and lost for our sakes when atoning for sin (see Isa. 53). He dies; we live. He suffers; we feel comfort. He is injured; we are healed. It is a reflexive symmetry of opposite poles, pluses for minuses, and ups for downs.
Even if the light of God does not completely withdraw when we sin, we still lose it in such a way that we feel sorrow, discontent, perhaps even anger. We are exposed more to the attacks and temptations of the adversary when the Spirit withdraws. Our spiritual gifts and sensitivity decline. We are getting a little taste of hell.
The Importance of Bodies
We receive the Spirit, the light, according to obedience, and lose it according to disobedience. Disobedience makes us subject to Satan, and he uses what light we are still receiving to warm his hands, drawing light off from us, when we sin. This is why the evil legion wanted to be sent into the 2000 Gadarene swine—they wanted to enjoy a particular property of a physical body; its enhanced ability to pick up, absorb, receive, that greater light. In this sense, the body acts like a satellite dish or antenna, absorbing a greater portion of the light than a spirit body alone can absorb. D&C 93 calls the elements the "tabernacle" of God; that spirit and element inseparably combined receive a fullness of joy.
Is this the reason those with bodies have more power than those without? The reason why the absence of a physical body seems to be bondage? The reason why addictions are easier to overcome during mortality? Because a body can receive more of that light which eminates from the presence of God and "fills the immensity of space" (D&C 88:)? I believe it is. We talk about the importance of having a body to procreate, and the range of other physical experiences it allows us to have in mortality; this is true, but are these physical abilities conferred by a physical body the main reason it allows us to have "a fulness of joy"? Ironically, the joy-enabling power of the physical body is, ultimately, spiritual.
Spirits in the presence of God are unable to have a fullness of joy because they lack bodies, and cannot pick up as much of the light in which they are basking; we here on earth with physical bodies are unable to have a fullness of joy because we are not in His presence, enjoying immortal glory. It is not just being in His enjoyable company that makes heaven a desirable home; it is basking in the glory He radiates that makes heaven heavenly. Jesus was the main focus of the Nephites when He arrived, not the miracles or anything else desirable. He was a light source to them, and they looked on Him with longing. "And that same sociality which exists among us here will exist among us there, only it will be coupled with eternal glory, which glory we do not now enjoy." Notice the last word—"enjoy." Not simply "possess," "have," or "get"; ENJOY. It's more than Whom we get to be with that brings greater joy in heaven; it's a physical force that they radiate.
The power of the Atonement is delivered to our hearts and minds by the Spirit; we receive a portion of the Spirit proportional to our humility. We are changed by the Atonement, but into what? We are not just having sin removed, or any desires instilled; we are receiving the nature of Christ, bit by bit. The fruits of the Spirit are peace, love, joy, and power; it is a foretaste of heaven. And losing it is a diluted taste of hell. That is what Jesus experienced on our behalf, so that we would not have to, if we would just repent, believe, and receive all He has.
I would like to take a stab at a question that various people have scratched their heads at and gone on with the umbrella statement that there are certain things we don’t know: What caused the pain of the Atonement?
Why the Atonement had to happen is fairly easy to grasp; economic metaphors, the three dimensional learning devices nature of animal sacrifice and ordinances, and other scriptural teaching devices help us to understand our accountability and our need for someone to help us out of the hole we have dug for ourselves. But many parts are not so easy to grasp; the questions of how the Atonement was worked out defy mortal comprehension—they all terminate in superlatives.
Source of Joy
Joseph Smith spoke of the First Vision in terms of light. As soon as the light appeared, Satan left him. One account of the First Vision said that he expected the light to start the surrounding forest on fire. He also wrote that for many days afterward, the experience filled him with great love and joy.
He said in one account of the experience, "A pillar of fire appeared above my head; which presently rested down upon me, and filled me with unspeakable joy" (Joseph Smith's First Vision, by Milton V. Backman Jr., p. 159)
What few snippets of quotation we get from the Lord during that vision have little to do with love or joy. Jesus expresses His displeasure with the corrupt preachers and the general sinful activities of the inhabitants of the earth, telling Joseph that He plans on destroying the whole lot at the Second Coming. This is dire; why did the encounter with God and the Son fill him with such great love and joy? We can derive at least one reason from the account: Because of the light they radiated—Joseph got to "enjoy" (D&C 130:2 says) eternal glory for a brief moment while in mortality, not just with a spirit body, but with a physical body at the same time as well. He got a taste of the celestial kingdom during his mortal probation, and the memory probably carried him through a life that would have shattered a man not so fortified.
D&C 88 teaches that when we fulfill the measure of our creation (whatever activities that may include) we are given a portion of glory, glory that has a celestial quality. We do not receive a fullness until after we are resurrected, but we are plugged into a celestial circuit, so to speak, anyway. Performing, or even diligently attempting or sincerely intending ("willing," the sacrament prayer says) to perform one’s work brings the Spirit; the Spirit empowers us to complete our work. "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me…" (Isa. 61:1). Isaiah then lists the duties, a job description, of the Messiah. That is the general idea behind anointing; we are assigned a certain task, and when we are anointed, the Spirit comes upon us to a great enough degree to allow us to accomplish our duties. So grace is delivered by the Spirit; the Spirit is received in what the scriptures call "portions," which can increase or decrease in size. The bigger the portion, the greater the grace.
Even if we are not receiving a portion of the Spirit that is great enough to be plainly visible, viz. Joseph Smith during the First Vision, we are still able to receive enough that it imparts peace, love, and joy, as well as power in the priesthood, and activating other spiritual gifts.
Source of Pain
Hell has been described and envisioned as a burning pit of sulfur, but that is only true in a metaphorical, poetic sense. The clinical description, "outer darkness," gives the true essence of what hell is: the complete absence of light. Just as the Spirit quickens and invigorates, so its absence is all that is required for life and matter itself to unravel. To destroy the universe would be an act of omission, not commission, for God; simply withdraw His sustaining influence, and everything would disintegrate. The maelstrom of chaos is the forwarding address of hell. By contrast, God dwells in everlasting burnings: “[The angels] reside in the presence of God, on a globe like a sea of glass and fire, where all things for their glory are manifest, past, present, and future, and are continually before the Lord” (D&C 130:7). And if we can make it back into His presence with a celestial, resurrected body, we will have a fullness of His joy.
In D&C 19:20, Jesus warns, "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." Earlier in section 19, he is describing His Atonement; in other words, the sustaining light of God was deliberately and completely withdrawn from Him during the Atonement. He experienced outer darkness while on earth in mortality.
Alma the younger had a similar experience. But while Alma was in his coma, what was he suffering for? He was incapable of atoning for his own sins; why would the loving Savior put him through hell? 3Ne. 9:20 tells us that those who come to Christ with broken hearts and contrite spirits will be born again, baptized with fire and with the Holy Ghost. As the sustaining light was withdrawn from him, Alma's heart and spirit were being broken ("punctured" is the literal translation of "contrite" from Old Testament Hebrew) to the point that he could experience the mighty change of heart. Jesus’ suffering already paid for all sin; the point of punishment, here or hereafter, is to humble us so we can be reborn and rid of the DESIRE to sin, sinfulness. It may satisfy justice to a degree, but not enough to merit any joy by it. We cannot pay our own way; we spend our ability to do so when we sin, a catch-22. Those who are penniless and in debt are unable to pay their debts.
Jesus took our names, our identities, ergo our punishments, onto Himself in the Garden and on the Cross. The punishment for sin is the loss of the light, the Spirit. We try to take His name, his reputation, and identity, upon ourselves. This means we get to enjoy some of His powers and privileges, including always having His Spirit to be with us (see Isa. 61:1). As He suffers the punishments we earned, we experience the peace, love, joy, and power He deserved, and lost for our sakes when atoning for sin (see Isa. 53). He dies; we live. He suffers; we feel comfort. He is injured; we are healed. It is a reflexive symmetry of opposite poles, pluses for minuses, and ups for downs.
Even if the light of God does not completely withdraw when we sin, we still lose it in such a way that we feel sorrow, discontent, perhaps even anger. We are exposed more to the attacks and temptations of the adversary when the Spirit withdraws. Our spiritual gifts and sensitivity decline. We are getting a little taste of hell.
The Importance of Bodies
We receive the Spirit, the light, according to obedience, and lose it according to disobedience. Disobedience makes us subject to Satan, and he uses what light we are still receiving to warm his hands, drawing light off from us, when we sin. This is why the evil legion wanted to be sent into the 2000 Gadarene swine—they wanted to enjoy a particular property of a physical body; its enhanced ability to pick up, absorb, receive, that greater light. In this sense, the body acts like a satellite dish or antenna, absorbing a greater portion of the light than a spirit body alone can absorb. D&C 93 calls the elements the "tabernacle" of God; that spirit and element inseparably combined receive a fullness of joy.
Is this the reason those with bodies have more power than those without? The reason why the absence of a physical body seems to be bondage? The reason why addictions are easier to overcome during mortality? Because a body can receive more of that light which eminates from the presence of God and "fills the immensity of space" (D&C 88:)? I believe it is. We talk about the importance of having a body to procreate, and the range of other physical experiences it allows us to have in mortality; this is true, but are these physical abilities conferred by a physical body the main reason it allows us to have "a fulness of joy"? Ironically, the joy-enabling power of the physical body is, ultimately, spiritual.
Spirits in the presence of God are unable to have a fullness of joy because they lack bodies, and cannot pick up as much of the light in which they are basking; we here on earth with physical bodies are unable to have a fullness of joy because we are not in His presence, enjoying immortal glory. It is not just being in His enjoyable company that makes heaven a desirable home; it is basking in the glory He radiates that makes heaven heavenly. Jesus was the main focus of the Nephites when He arrived, not the miracles or anything else desirable. He was a light source to them, and they looked on Him with longing. "And that same sociality which exists among us here will exist among us there, only it will be coupled with eternal glory, which glory we do not now enjoy." Notice the last word—"enjoy." Not simply "possess," "have," or "get"; ENJOY. It's more than Whom we get to be with that brings greater joy in heaven; it's a physical force that they radiate.
The power of the Atonement is delivered to our hearts and minds by the Spirit; we receive a portion of the Spirit proportional to our humility. We are changed by the Atonement, but into what? We are not just having sin removed, or any desires instilled; we are receiving the nature of Christ, bit by bit. The fruits of the Spirit are peace, love, joy, and power; it is a foretaste of heaven. And losing it is a diluted taste of hell. That is what Jesus experienced on our behalf, so that we would not have to, if we would just repent, believe, and receive all He has.
Monday, April 14, 2014
The Sacrament: Swapping Identities
I used to think of the phrase in the sacrament prayer about taking the name of Jesus Christ upon us was adding yet another burden to my to-do list. "What would Jesus do?" Or, "What would Jesus do in my position?" That is part of it, but I have recently realized that taking His name upon us is more than assuming new duties. It also includes adopting His identity, which means borrowing His powers and privileges (some of them).
Yes, we agree to work in the sacrament covenant. But even that gets a boost from the Lord. Chewing bread is a delicious activity, but it requires work. Drinking grape juice or water afterward makes dry, hard bread easier to work on. The prayer on the bread says eating it shows God our willingness to 1. Take His Son's name upon us, 2. Always remember Him, and 3. Keep His commandments. If we do 1, 2, and 3, we ALWAYS have His Spirit to be with us. If we have trouble with the work of 1 and 3, at least we can do as the prayer on the water says, number 2, "always remember Him." Then we can "have (minus "always") His Spirit to be with [us]." Water makes bread easier to swallow; grace makes works possible for us.
When Jesus chose to announce publicly that He was the Messiah, He read Isaiah 61:1-2 in the synagogue: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, To preach the acceptable year of the Lord" (Luke 4:18-19). The people stared in anticipation as He sat down—why read this to them? He interpreted the scripture: "This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears" (verse 21). "...he hath anointed me..." the word Messiah means Anointed One—Jesus was claiming to be the Messiah. So the people got mad and tried to murder Him by throwing Him off a cliff, and Jesus barely escaped.
The verses He read amount to a job description of the Messiah. There is a sermon buried in each phrase, but for now I want to focus on the first part: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me..." One of the privileges of being the Messiah was a greatly increased portion of the Spirit. Receiving the Holy Ghost is not an all-or-nothing proposition; the Spirit is given by degrees, or "portions" as the scriptures say. The greater the portion of the Spirit, the greater the power. That is the general idea of the ordinance of anointing; oil is poured on a person, and the Spirit falls on that person to a greater degree, which empowers him or her to accomplish a specific mission. For instance, Aaron, a High Priest in the Tabernacle (a portable Temple), and David, a King, were both anointed before they began serving in those offices. It signified their entry into their respective offices, and was the symbol that God had empowered them to fulfill their distinct roles.
Jesus had a fulness of the Holy Ghost, and it was always with Him (I will discuss the momentous exception He endured in a second). We do not fully take His name upon ourselves when we partake of the sacrament; that happens more fully in the Temple. But we assert and confirm our willingness to take His name upon ourselves by partaking of the sacrament. It is a public declaration to God that, yes, we are willing to do everything in our power to repent and progress and obey Him. Jesus earned the privilege of always having the Spirit with Him because He always did exactly what His Father asked. Perfect obedience is one way to always have the companionship of the Holy Ghost. (Being unaccountable for our sins through ignorance may be another way; even that requires divine intervention.) But what about us imperfect people?
Instead of earning the privilege, we are given a deal, grace: we can always have His Spirit (we are borrowing this from Jesus) in exchange for our willingness—willingness to try. Attempts technically fall short, but we are given the Spirit anyway, just because of the condition of our heart ("willing" in the sacrament prayers only describes the condition of our hearts. It says nothing about whether or not we actually succeed at obeying, just that we desire to obey.) This is a generous extension of mercy to us. The Spirit brings many things to us; it gives us a taste of the joy of being in God's presence. It activates our innate spiritual gifts. It empowers priesthood authority.
Perhaps the most overlooked function of the Holy Spirit among Church members is that it delivers the effects of the Atonement of Jesus Christ to our hearts and minds. It sanctifies us; when we give our hearts completely to Jesus Christ, he installs His heart, instills His nature, in us. This is an extremely generous deal for us. We get to enjoy the benefits of being Jesus when we assume His identity.
It is a lot like a teenager who owns a bike, but gets to borrow his parents' car (provided he earns his driver's license and keeps other rules, traffic rules, house rules, etc.). Keeping the rules and borrowing the car are not the same thing as buying the car or owning the car; it is loaned to him out of the generosity of Mom's and Dad's hearts. Fulfilling the conditions and obligations to borrow the car are just the parents' way of keeping their kid from getting spoiled. But the car itself empowers him to travel further, faster, and carry more passengers and cargo. Dating (at least the shame-free variety) becomes a reality for him. The car can even make him more useful to his parents, enabling him to go shopping, pick up siblings, deliver goods, and run other errands.
Spiritual rebirth amounts to borrowing Jesus' identity. We get to enjoy the consequences of His obedience, or in other words, we "rely" on His "merits," what He earned (2Ne. 31:19).
Jesus also took our identities, and their negative consequences, onto Himself in the Garden of Gethsemane and upon the Cross. He assumed the burdens we would have had to bear if justice had been administered without His intercession. He pushes us out of the way and absorbs the impact of justice for us. He served our prison sentence for us, and we enjoy His freedom. This is a paradox; we guilty people are set free while the only innocent Person is punished.
Jesus earned His own salvation; we must borrow His. (Perhaps another metaphor might be a child borrowing the parent's credit card). We who are accountable for our sins (intelligent adults who can choose, who know right from wrong) must repent in order to be saved. This means turning from our sins, eliminating our misbehaviors. But it is not the same as earning our way to heaven.
The ministry and teachings of Jesus place enormous emphasis on modifying our behavior. If our "righteous acts are like filthy rags" (Isaiah 64:6), if He paid the price of our entry into heaven, if it is too late after we commit the tiniest infraction of the law (see James 2:10) to earn our way, then what is the point of His demanding our work, work, work?
"If ye love me, keep my commandments" (John 14:15). We are not showing by our ardent, avid attempts at obedience that we are good in and of ourselves; rather, we are demonstrating that we actually belong to Jesus, that we are His, because His commands cause us to move. (Brigham Young taught that in heaven, we do not own anything unless and until it obeys us; see Abr. 4:18.)
Jesus merited something else: His "rights of mercy." He was innocent, yet He suffered more than anyone. This creates an imbalance in justice, a vacuum of debt owed to Him, and it is inside that empty space that we must hide. He has racked up a debt, a super-abundance of credit is on His tab. We deserve death and hell without His interference on our behalf. But if we repent and have faith in Christ, and love for Him, and even try our hardest to show that love by obeying Him, and if we are bound to Him through covenants and priesthood ordinances (baptism, etc.), then we belong to Him. It is an official adoption. We become His, and He is privileged to take us to heaven with Him (provided we wipe our feet, bathe, and get clean clothes from Him before we enter; there is plenty of refinement work for all of us. He speeds that up, too.). The main thing is that justice cannot touch us as long as we have shed enough pride and sin and dirt that we fit inside His protective shadow. We never get rid of all of it, but even our sorrow for sin, our humility, shrinks us just enough that we are completely shielded by His grace.
"...Christ hath ascended into heaven, and hath sat down on the right hand of God, to claim of the Father his rights of mercy which he hath upon the children of men..." (Moroni 7:27). "Listen to him who is the advocate with the Father, who is pleading your cause before him—Saying: Father, behold the sufferings and death of him who did no sin, in whom thou wast well pleased; behold the blood of thy Son which was shed, the blood of him whom thou gavest that thyself might be glorified; Wherefore, Father, spare these my brethren that believe on my name, that they may come unto me and have everlasting life. Hearken, O ye people of my church, and ye elders listen together, and hear my voice while it is called today, and harden not your hearts..." (D&C 45:3-6). Jesus drank a bitter cup so that we could take a sweet drink of peace, the wine (now water) of the sacrament.
Becoming miniature versions of the Savior is the ultimate goal of the gospel, and the sacrament is an emblematic part of that happy transformation. When we receive the Spirit, we get to experience the joy the Savior had in life: "...I will impart unto you of my Spirit, which shall enlighten your mind, which shall fill your soul with joy..." And He offers us the opportunity to always have the Spirit, His Spirit, to be with us.
Yes, we agree to work in the sacrament covenant. But even that gets a boost from the Lord. Chewing bread is a delicious activity, but it requires work. Drinking grape juice or water afterward makes dry, hard bread easier to work on. The prayer on the bread says eating it shows God our willingness to 1. Take His Son's name upon us, 2. Always remember Him, and 3. Keep His commandments. If we do 1, 2, and 3, we ALWAYS have His Spirit to be with us. If we have trouble with the work of 1 and 3, at least we can do as the prayer on the water says, number 2, "always remember Him." Then we can "have (minus "always") His Spirit to be with [us]." Water makes bread easier to swallow; grace makes works possible for us.
When Jesus chose to announce publicly that He was the Messiah, He read Isaiah 61:1-2 in the synagogue: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, To preach the acceptable year of the Lord" (Luke 4:18-19). The people stared in anticipation as He sat down—why read this to them? He interpreted the scripture: "This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears" (verse 21). "...he hath anointed me..." the word Messiah means Anointed One—Jesus was claiming to be the Messiah. So the people got mad and tried to murder Him by throwing Him off a cliff, and Jesus barely escaped.
The verses He read amount to a job description of the Messiah. There is a sermon buried in each phrase, but for now I want to focus on the first part: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me..." One of the privileges of being the Messiah was a greatly increased portion of the Spirit. Receiving the Holy Ghost is not an all-or-nothing proposition; the Spirit is given by degrees, or "portions" as the scriptures say. The greater the portion of the Spirit, the greater the power. That is the general idea of the ordinance of anointing; oil is poured on a person, and the Spirit falls on that person to a greater degree, which empowers him or her to accomplish a specific mission. For instance, Aaron, a High Priest in the Tabernacle (a portable Temple), and David, a King, were both anointed before they began serving in those offices. It signified their entry into their respective offices, and was the symbol that God had empowered them to fulfill their distinct roles.
Jesus had a fulness of the Holy Ghost, and it was always with Him (I will discuss the momentous exception He endured in a second). We do not fully take His name upon ourselves when we partake of the sacrament; that happens more fully in the Temple. But we assert and confirm our willingness to take His name upon ourselves by partaking of the sacrament. It is a public declaration to God that, yes, we are willing to do everything in our power to repent and progress and obey Him. Jesus earned the privilege of always having the Spirit with Him because He always did exactly what His Father asked. Perfect obedience is one way to always have the companionship of the Holy Ghost. (Being unaccountable for our sins through ignorance may be another way; even that requires divine intervention.) But what about us imperfect people?
Instead of earning the privilege, we are given a deal, grace: we can always have His Spirit (we are borrowing this from Jesus) in exchange for our willingness—willingness to try. Attempts technically fall short, but we are given the Spirit anyway, just because of the condition of our heart ("willing" in the sacrament prayers only describes the condition of our hearts. It says nothing about whether or not we actually succeed at obeying, just that we desire to obey.) This is a generous extension of mercy to us. The Spirit brings many things to us; it gives us a taste of the joy of being in God's presence. It activates our innate spiritual gifts. It empowers priesthood authority.
Perhaps the most overlooked function of the Holy Spirit among Church members is that it delivers the effects of the Atonement of Jesus Christ to our hearts and minds. It sanctifies us; when we give our hearts completely to Jesus Christ, he installs His heart, instills His nature, in us. This is an extremely generous deal for us. We get to enjoy the benefits of being Jesus when we assume His identity.
It is a lot like a teenager who owns a bike, but gets to borrow his parents' car (provided he earns his driver's license and keeps other rules, traffic rules, house rules, etc.). Keeping the rules and borrowing the car are not the same thing as buying the car or owning the car; it is loaned to him out of the generosity of Mom's and Dad's hearts. Fulfilling the conditions and obligations to borrow the car are just the parents' way of keeping their kid from getting spoiled. But the car itself empowers him to travel further, faster, and carry more passengers and cargo. Dating (at least the shame-free variety) becomes a reality for him. The car can even make him more useful to his parents, enabling him to go shopping, pick up siblings, deliver goods, and run other errands.
Spiritual rebirth amounts to borrowing Jesus' identity. We get to enjoy the consequences of His obedience, or in other words, we "rely" on His "merits," what He earned (2Ne. 31:19).
Jesus also took our identities, and their negative consequences, onto Himself in the Garden of Gethsemane and upon the Cross. He assumed the burdens we would have had to bear if justice had been administered without His intercession. He pushes us out of the way and absorbs the impact of justice for us. He served our prison sentence for us, and we enjoy His freedom. This is a paradox; we guilty people are set free while the only innocent Person is punished.
Isaiah 53 explains how the trading of identities plays out: "Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all" (verses 4-6). He took the hit for us, He paid the bill we incurred through disobedience, and He offers us the clean slate He earned through perfect obedience. He is wounded; we are healed. He dies; we live. This is an extremely generous tradeoff.
In D&C 19, Jesus explains the naked mechanics of His indescribable misery and agony during the process of the Atonement: "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...Nevertheless, glory be to the Father, and I partook and finished my preparations unto the children of men. Wherefore, I command you again to repent...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" (verses 18-20; my emphasis). Hell is not inferno; it is literally outer darkness, the complete withdrawal, the absence of the light of the Spirit emanating from God's presence (see D&C 88:11-24). (Our bodies give us extra power because they increase the portion of this Spirit we are able to receive; see D&C 93:19-36. This means an added portion of the sanctifying grace and power of the Atonement, too. This may explain why it is easier to overcome addictions in mortality).
The ministry and teachings of Jesus place enormous emphasis on modifying our behavior. If our "righteous acts are like filthy rags" (Isaiah 64:6), if He paid the price of our entry into heaven, if it is too late after we commit the tiniest infraction of the law (see James 2:10) to earn our way, then what is the point of His demanding our work, work, work?
"If ye love me, keep my commandments" (John 14:15). We are not showing by our ardent, avid attempts at obedience that we are good in and of ourselves; rather, we are demonstrating that we actually belong to Jesus, that we are His, because His commands cause us to move. (Brigham Young taught that in heaven, we do not own anything unless and until it obeys us; see Abr. 4:18.)
Jesus merited something else: His "rights of mercy." He was innocent, yet He suffered more than anyone. This creates an imbalance in justice, a vacuum of debt owed to Him, and it is inside that empty space that we must hide. He has racked up a debt, a super-abundance of credit is on His tab. We deserve death and hell without His interference on our behalf. But if we repent and have faith in Christ, and love for Him, and even try our hardest to show that love by obeying Him, and if we are bound to Him through covenants and priesthood ordinances (baptism, etc.), then we belong to Him. It is an official adoption. We become His, and He is privileged to take us to heaven with Him (provided we wipe our feet, bathe, and get clean clothes from Him before we enter; there is plenty of refinement work for all of us. He speeds that up, too.). The main thing is that justice cannot touch us as long as we have shed enough pride and sin and dirt that we fit inside His protective shadow. We never get rid of all of it, but even our sorrow for sin, our humility, shrinks us just enough that we are completely shielded by His grace.
"...Christ hath ascended into heaven, and hath sat down on the right hand of God, to claim of the Father his rights of mercy which he hath upon the children of men..." (Moroni 7:27). "Listen to him who is the advocate with the Father, who is pleading your cause before him—Saying: Father, behold the sufferings and death of him who did no sin, in whom thou wast well pleased; behold the blood of thy Son which was shed, the blood of him whom thou gavest that thyself might be glorified; Wherefore, Father, spare these my brethren that believe on my name, that they may come unto me and have everlasting life. Hearken, O ye people of my church, and ye elders listen together, and hear my voice while it is called today, and harden not your hearts..." (D&C 45:3-6). Jesus drank a bitter cup so that we could take a sweet drink of peace, the wine (now water) of the sacrament.
Becoming miniature versions of the Savior is the ultimate goal of the gospel, and the sacrament is an emblematic part of that happy transformation. When we receive the Spirit, we get to experience the joy the Savior had in life: "...I will impart unto you of my Spirit, which shall enlighten your mind, which shall fill your soul with joy..." And He offers us the opportunity to always have the Spirit, His Spirit, to be with us.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Portable Packets, Quotable Quotes, Succinct Snippets
In this age when frantic, frenetic flitting from one internet image to the next renders linear thought an endangered species, a mile-long treatise on one particular part of the gospel may not be adapted to current expectations. It is possible to spur faith and repentance with a few simple words. This entry still long, but it is composed of segments, sound bites in no particular order. It is a collection of random, disjointed, non-linear, distinct ideas that may be quotable, or at least easier to swallow because they are bite-sized.
- Spiritual rebirth might be summed up in one sentence: We give our hearts to Jesus Christ, and He gives His heart (His nature) to us. The more of our hearts we give to Him, the more of His heart, His tendencies, He installs in us.
- We strive to take the name and identity of Christ upon ourselves. Why? Not just because it is good to try and imitate Him, but because we are borrowing His privileges connected to His identity. Jesus overcame the world, and merited exaltation for Himself. When we present ourselves at Judgment Day, we will be presented as if we were a miniature Jesus Christ if we are to enter heaven. We will enter heaven because He has earned the privilege of taking us with Him wherever He goes, and we are bound to Him forever.
- We demonstrate our willingness to take the name of Jesus onto ourselves each Sunday when we partake of the sacrament. If we have His identity, that means we receive one of the blessing He qualified for: the constant companionship of the Spirit. What is not commonly mentioned is that Jesus took our names, our identities, upon Himself when He suffered in Gethsemane and on the cross. He took all the consequences and disadvantages that come from being who we are, including our culpability for our sins and the loss of the Spirit.
- “Opposition” is commonly defined as the stuff that gets in our way, inconveniences and trials and pains. The phrase “opposition in all things” means that as the bad gets worse in the world, so the good must necessarily be getting better. In D&C 88, Jesus gives a parable about His impending arrival on the face of this earth, and then says: “...I leave these sayings with you to ponder in your hearts, with this commandment...that ye shall call upon me while I am near—Draw near unto me, and I will draw near unto you...Whatsoever ye ask the Father in my name it shall be given unto you...” (verses 62, 63, 65). There must necessarily be increasing compensatory blessings to counter the increasing wickedness now raging. We will catch the shower of manna falling from heaven today if only we keep our bowls facing upward.
- Jesus prophesied that Peter would deny Him three times before the rooster crowed. Immediately after that sad prediction, Jesus tells Peter, “Let not your heart be troubled...” Again, “Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” (John 14:1, 27). “In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). Let’s say Peter, or any of us, stumble as we give our 100%. Jesus gave His all, and it was enough to overcome all. We give our all, and fail anyway. If we are in all sorts of trouble for failing, why should HIS victory cheer us and defray our fears and worries? Because if we belong to Him, we inherit His victory, His rewards. We just need to give our 100%, and succeed or fail, if it really is our all, He will accept it, and “he shall divide the spoil with the strong...” (Isaiah 53:12). We make too much of performance; we already blew it by being imperfect.
- What is hell? Jesus explains it: “But if they would not repent they must suffer even as I...therefore I command you...confess your sins, lest you suffer these punishments...which...in the least degree you have tasted at the time I withdrew my Spirit” (D&C 19:17, 20). To have that light, radiation, power, whatever it is emanating from God, withdrawn, THAT is hell. That is why hell is described literally as “outer darkness;” fire and brimstone are figurative. The celestial kingdom is described as “dwelling in everlasting burnings,” receiving the fullness of that light. Why are we all miserable on earth? The scarcity of the Spirit. The Spirit is a foretaste of the joy, the earnest money, of heaven (see D&C 11:13). The withdrawal of the Spirit when we sin is a foretaste of hell, too. The little we get and keep here will be amplified in the eternities beyond our current ability to comprehend, if and when we are exalted. It is discouraging and frightening to see how casually members of the Church take the privilege of the Gift of the Holy Ghost, how eager and willing we are to dim our receptivity through “mildly” ungodly entertainment and talk. It is more than a warm blanket to keep us from being miserable; it is a lifeline to God, a portion of His presence. Why discard it? What risky business to do so.
- The command to offer the Lord “a broken heart and a contrite spirit” is fairly vague. We get the gist of sorrow for sin and admitting our nothingness, our complete dependence on God. The fuller meaning of the phrase gets illustrated for us in vivid clarity and by formal covenants in the endowment.
- Repentance is not just for “the very vilest of sinners.” Any progress can be characterized as repentance. Since we have all been commanded to be perfect as God, no one is off the hook. Jesus arrives among the Nephites, and His opening lines include the following: “...I bear record that the Father commandeth all men, everywhere, to repent and believe in me” (3Ne. 11:32). And as Nephi says, when the Lord gives a commandment, He also prepares a way to keep it.
- 1Ne. 3:7 is oft-quoted, but is it oft-applied? Do we think of it as a scripture about the Law of Chastity? Or tithing? Or fasting? Nephi’s statement gives us a picture of humility acceptable to the Lord. “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded...” Nephi announces his willingness to obey, to do things the Lord’s way. “...for I know the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.” Nephi acknowledges his nothingness, his total dependence on God, and his intense trust, too. These are two indispensable threads we must braid into the wick of genuine humility. Notice this definition of humility is proactive and hopeful, instead of the drooping defeatism we often associate with being humble.
- What are the “Sunday School Answers?” Pray, read scriptures, attend church meetings, attend the temple, fast, do service, pay tithes and offerings, etc. Why are these presented as the generic solution to all our problems? Why are they so prominent and ubiquitous in General Conference talks? These activities have one main thing in common—they each invite the Spirit to be with us, with us powerfully. The Spirit delivers the power of the Atonement to our hearts, minds, and lives, and THAT is what gives them such broad application, what makes the Sunday School Answers such profound solutions to our problems.
- Our job is not to manage our bad desires; it is to let the Savior surgically remove them from our hearts, and replace them with His desires. Not only is this possible, it is mandatory, at least for all those who would enter heaven. No one is exempt, however socially acceptable or innocent a person may appear.
- Among the first sentences that opened this dispensation in the Sacred Grove, the Savior states the following: “all their creeds were an abomination in his sight; that those professors were all corrupt; that: ‘they draw near to me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me, they teach for doctrines the commandments of men, having a form of godliness, but they deny the power thereof’” (Joseph Smith—History 1:19). Jesus tells Joseph in the Sacred Grove that all these pious Christian teachers deny the power of Jesus to make a bad man into a good one. A few years later, Joseph Smith gets the gold plates, and translates the Book of Mormon from them. It is practically a manual about how to access the Atonement, to have “the Spirit of the Lord omnipotent [work] a mighty change in us...that we [might] have no more disposition to do evil, but to do good continually” (Mosiah 5:2). It contains the solution to the big problem defined by the Lord for Joseph Smith in the First Vision.
- The “mighty change” is not something we practice; it is a gift from God. If a person awoke one morning craving broccoli intensely and feeling indifferent toward chocolate ice cream and cake, this person would not say, “Wow! All that hard work and practice is finally paying off.” There might be celebration of good luck, but more likely a visit to the hospital for a brain scan to figure out if wires had crossed. We are not expecting a change of attitude through our willpower; we are expecting a fundamental change of nature through the Atonement. How do we experience it? Read the Book of Mormon—it is a Master’s thesis on the subject. All our efforts and good works do not in themselves secure this mighty change; rather, they qualify us to receive it from God.
- One of the most profound things I ever heard from a devotional speaker was the idea that we do not forgive others because forgiveness implies the damage they did was inconsequential; we forgive others because we expect Jesus to make it right one day, to pay the debt our enemy owes to us. Would scourging and suffering repair a broken stained glass window? No. Those who injure us are usually powerless to repair or repay. Jesus will fix the damage and repay the debt the offending person owes to us instead. How ironic that the speaker who forwarded this idea was among that despised and vilified class of professionals, a lawyer. His training and career primed him to learn a gospel truth I never heard before. A third party is paying for, and repairing, the mess I caused in someone else’s life, and the messes others caused in mine. I am free to relinquish my demands on them, and rely on the Savior instead.
- Where is love in the temple endowment? If love is the driving force behind God’s actions, why all the legalism and semantics and mechanisms of justice, mercy, Atonement, forgiveness, ordinances, covenants, and so on? Imagine an operating room in a hospital. Tubes and machines by the dozen are hooked to the body of a sick child. Surgeons and nurses crowd around, cutting and stitching. The physicians are dressed in colorless gowns, masked and unsmiling. Everything is mechanical, by the book, procedures and technical jargon. Where is the love in this picture? The love is all around, if we understand what is going on. All these tools and machines and trained medical professionals are there to infuse life into a broken body, to restore damaged tissue and extend the child’s life to the fullest extent of their ability. A lullaby and other common trappings of love just won’t suffice here. Platitudes and cuddly sentiment will not get us out of our predicament either. We are sinners who hope to inherit exaltation and eternal life. What awesome measures and efforts must it take to get us from our present miserable point A to our hoped-for, perfect point B? Think about that the next time you feel perplexed by the endowment. It’s all here to help us.
- I walk the face of the earth, free as can be, and yet I keep to familiar paths for the most part. The Lord always knows right where I am, and often I run right into people or things or ideas at just the right moment, as though it had been planned. Is agency real? Jonah had two choices: Go to Nineveh, or be dragged to Nineveh. So he went there. God has agency too, and he said, “The works, and the designs, and the purposes of God cannot be frustrated, neither can they come to naught...therefore his paths are straight, and his course is one eternal round. Remember, remember that it is not the work of God that is frustrated, but the work of men...” (D&C 3:1-3). Satan thought he was destroying God’s plan, but giving the fruit to Adam and Eve only furthered it. Perhaps agency is less about what we do, and more about what we choose in our minds. We often long for things that don’t exist, but we are told we will answer for these longings and desires as part of the final judgment.
- When Jesus beckoned to Peter to jump out of the boat and walk on the water to Him, Peter did not say, “One moment—let me strap on my water skis.” When we attempt to accomplish the Lord’s work by trusting in our own understanding, day planners, schedules, salesmanship, psychology, science, medication, charisma, charm, etc., we are doing what Nephi called “making flesh” our “arm.” Could water skis have sustained Peter? Poorly at best. Even when Peter floundered and began to sink, because he was failing while doing things the Lord’s way Jesus was there to bring him back up to the surface. He relied on the Lord in the boat, on the water, while sinking, and when Jesus pulled him up and escorted him back to the boat. Perhaps the Lord uses the weak and simple things of the earth as His instruments is because they are not sophisticated or savvy enough to make the mistake of looking to some source of power besides the Lord. The strong things of the earth have ways, means, procedures, and gadgets; the weak and simple have nothing to rely on but the power of the Atonement.
- There are only five scriptures that have anything bad to say about money: The Old Testament, the New Testament, the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, and the Pearl of Great Price. Why the bias against money in scripture? Perhaps the Lord is offended when we take His creations, which each have intrinsic value, and reduce their status by equating them with a thing that has no intrinsic value, the essence of ephemeral. The value of money compared to other things is a human contrivance. One good test to see whether or not a thing is eternal might be: can it be bought with money? Putting a price tag on everything obscures its intrinsic, eternal worth from our view.
- I once saw what was supposed to be a comprehensive list of addictions in a magazine. Missing from the list was the appetite for money. There is nothing addicts will do in the attempt to get their fix that greedy people have not perpetrated in the attempt to get money. Dishonesty, destroyed families, selling sex, killing, stealing—all these have been suffered in the attempt to get money. Does that put it in the same category as so many other deleterious substances addicts abuse?
- Money can be used for good or ill, but so few things have its limitless ability to corrupt an otherwise kind, righteous person. All of God's creations have limits; sex has physical limits, the desire for food has limits. Even land is a limited commodity. But because of the imaginary nature of money, the appetite for it can grow without limit. Because the portfolio can expand without limits, it can become a red herring Satan can use to throw us off the trail—if only I get a little more wealth, THEN I'll be happy. Those who subscribe to this philosophy learn by experience that wealth cannot shield us from pain or sadness or emptiness. The poor people of the world are notoriously happy and generous. They don't need psychotherapists because they cannot afford them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)