The sacrament is often discussed in General Conference and Church meetings. One aspect no one ever broaches in the discussion is the very first word in the prayers on the bread and water: O.
This word serves as a reminder of our desperate and potentially dangerous circumstances, our dependence on the Lord as our Rescuer.
It is less a word, and more of an exclamation or interjection. It intensifies our petition. Instead of casually asking, we are now pleading, imploring, even begging. It injects earnest feeling into our collective petition, offered by the boy kneeling and speaking in our behalf at the sacrament table.
Hosanna and O
The O in the sacrament prayer has a long ritual history. The “ho” sound in the Hebrew word hosanna (HO-SHAH-NAH, “O rescue please!”) is like our O in English. (The “sh” in “Yehoshua,” spelled “Jesus” in the New Testament, also means “rescue” or “save.” Jesus’ name literally means “Rescued By Jehovah.” See also Matt. 21:9, 15; Mark 11:9-10; John 12:13.)
Read D&C 109 some time to get a taste of the emphatic nature of the word O. (It contains at least 28 uses of “O,” by my count, as well as at least one Hebrew “hosanna.”) It is the prayer, received by Joseph Smith through revelation, written down, and read to dedicate the Kirtland Temple.
Here is a sampling:
“O Jehovah, have mercy upon this people, and as all men sin forgive the transgressions of thy people, and let them be blotted out forever…
“…Thy will be done, O Lord, and not ours…
“O Lord God Almighty, hear us in these our petitions, and answer us from heaven…
“O hear, O hear, O hear us, O Lord! And answer these petitions, and accept…the work of our hands…” (D&C 109:34, 44, 77, 78).
Joseph Smith had no microphone or sound system to amplify his voice; he was speaking to a congregation of about 900 people when he offered this prayer, some listening at the windows because the Kirtland Temple was so packed. His voice must have been dramatic and intense. (He prayed sincerely, according to Eliza R. Snow.) At the intersection of dependent humility and borderline desperation, we find the outcry, “O.”
Imagine a man lost in the forest. He has no phone, and no one knows his precise whereabouts. As he wanders fearfully through the vast, rugged landscape, feeling the pangs of hunger and thirst, wary of wild predators, he hears a helicopter in the distance, and the sound is getting louder. He runs frantically to a clearing, ascends the highest prominence in the center of the clearing, and begins waving his white t-shirt to get the attention of the pilot. “Here I am! Over here! Help me!” he screams. That is the spirit of the word “hosanna.”
Putting O at the beginning of our sacrament prayers adds that same flavor—imploring, pleading, begging. It removes the casual tone that infects most of our prayers. The two set prayers in the Church of Jesus Christ end up being the most emotionally charged. It is no mistake that there is an O at the beginning of each prayer; we are collectively admitting our total reliance on the Savior. It is mass-group repentance.
If the sacrament is a boost or help for penitent sinners, why is it that we do not gather random non-members and apostates and people involved in serious sin to partake of it? Why are some sinners invited, while others are encouraged to visit the meetings without partaking?
I find the hinge for determining whether we should partake or not in the word “willing.” Elder Maxwell used the phrase “reasonable righteousness” to describe the level of spiritual progress achieved by the rank and file members of the Church. It is not that they have stopped all sin completely, but that they are aimed in that direction, actively seeking, working, and intending to progress and repent.
When a person admits to himself and his bishop that he is addicted to pornography or drugs, or that he has committed adultery or stolen, it is evidence that he or she is not WILLING to keep covenants. At that point, it then becomes the prerogative of the bishop (who presides over the administration of the sacrament) to intervene. When there is sufficient evidence that the person in question is WILLING and able to try to keep his or her covenants, then it is wise to reinstate the sacrament as a renewal of those covenants.
Making a covenant is like being on a mountain. We progress by keeping our covenants, by staying up there on that mountain. Keeping commandments is always good, but keeping commandments with covenants in place amplifies the Lord’s blessings for our obedience. On the other hand, breaking the commandments with a covenant in place amplifies the justice, the cursing, and the grievousness of that sin. It is worse to fall from a mountain than to trip while walking on level ground.
A person with a covenant in place who intends to break it is like a person who intends to fall while on a mountain. It is safer to fall walking on flat ground than to fall from a mountain; it is safer to have one’s covenants revoked or suspended to some degree by the authority of a bishop than to have covenants in place, renew them every week, and yet have the intent (willingness) to sin, and sin grievously. Covenants compound righteousness, as well as sin.
“Willing” Denotes Intentions
What are we doing when we eat the bread each week?
When we partake of the sacrament, we are witnessing (showing) God that we are willing to take the name of His Son Jesus Christ upon ourselves, willing to always remember His Son, and willing to keep the commandments which He has given us. If we have plans to break those commandments, especially the Ten Commandments, we should not partake. Before we touch the bread and water, we ought to be certain we are facing uphill, willing to do all those things (however much we stumble in our sincere attempts). That willingness makes us worthy to partake of the sacrament.
The resurrected Savior gave the Nephites specific instructions about how the sacrament should and should not be administered:
“And behold, ye shall meet together oft; and ye shall not forbid any man from coming unto you when ye shall meet together, but suffer them that they may come unto you and forbid them not;
“But ye shall pray for them, and shall not cast them out; and if it so be that they come unto you oft ye shall pray for them unto the Father, in my name…
“And now behold, this is the commandment which I give unto you, that ye shall not suffer any one knowingly to partake of my flesh and blood unworthily, when ye shall minister it;
“For whoso eateth and drinketh my flesh and blood unworthily eateth and drinketh damnation to his soul; therefore if ye know that a man is unworthy to eat and drink of my flesh and blood ye shall forbid him” (3Ne. 22-23, 28-29). The purpose of offering or refusing the sacrament to people is to assist their progress and salvation. It is not to make people feel unwelcome in Church, or make some feel superior over others who are struggling.
Jesus does not say to judge anyone harshly, or cast anyone out; we are commanded to accept visitors, worthy or not, and not shun them. We are all penitent sinners, begging for the assistance only He can give. The Church has been compared to a hospital for the sick, not a well-provisioned rest home for the already-made-its. (In fact, Satan is given power to tempt us if we refuse to invite others to come unto Christ; I am a witness of this principle. See 3Ne. 18:25.)
Shame is a powerful motivator, and the devil can use the shame of being unworthy to partake of the sacrament as leverage to keep people out of sacrament meetings, and out of the Church altogether.
I vividly remember the example of one bishop of a single’s ward on his last day as the bishop. He left the rostrum, and flushed people hiding in the foyers on to the stand with him, a few minutes before the sacrament meeting began. He added about twenty or thirty individuals from the periphery to the center of the meeting, putting them near him in the choir loft. This act of inclusion was more powerful than anything said during the meeting. It was freighted with significance—very Christlike.
O Help Us!
Those who are worthy to partake of the sacrament, to continue the mountain analogy, often feel like they are barely hanging on by their fingernails. Satan can attack anyone unless he or she is perfectly obedient. (Even those people still have to deal with flawed or angry mortals, flat tires, illness, trials, wayward family members, sorrow for the sins of the world, etc.) No one comes to the sacrament table without a heavy heart, without some concern weighing on her or him. That is part of this mortal experience.
It is a shame to see people playing with electronic devices or being distracted during this moment when we can remember our dependence. We may not all be beggars for food and clothing, but we are all spiritual beggars.
A verse from King Benjamin’s speech captures the essence of group repentance we should have in sacrament meetings:
“For behold, are we not all beggars? Do we not all depend upon the same Being, even God, for all the substance which we have…
“And behold, even at this time, ye have been calling on his name (just like in the sacrament prayers), and begging for a remission of your sins. And has he suffered that ye have begged in vain? Nay; he has poured out his Spirit upon you, and has caused that your hearts should be filled with joy, and has caused that your mouths should be stopped that ye could not find utterance, so exceedingly great was your joy” (Mosiah 4:19-20). Coming to the Lord alone and begging is less powerful than coming as a group to make a request. “I say unto you, be one; and if ye are not one ye are not mine” (D&C 38:27).
“Again I say unto you, That if two of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven.
“For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them” (Matt. 18:19-20).
The intensity of our petitions and feelings of need during the ordinance of the sacrament is proportional to our awareness of just how dire our circumstances really are, just how dependent we are on our Savior. The words of the ordinance are not “I,” “mine,” and “me,” though; they are “we,” “they (us)” and “them (us again).”
Awareness Induces Reverence
Some things tend to wake us up out of CASUAL mode, and remind us of our utter dependence on Jesus Christ. After his recent attendance at a funeral, one member of a stake presidency mused sardonically, “What if you went to a funeral, and a sacrament meeting broke out? Everyone is reverent, everyone is attuned to the Spirit, people are focused on God,” and their dependence on him, etc. Death is a solemn reminder that we are all moving towards the Great and Last Interview with our Priesthood Leader, Jesus Christ, and it begs the question: Am I prepared?
This life is the time to prepare to meet God, the day we have been given to perform our labors. We have a chance once a week to reflect on just how well we are progressing, how well we are keeping our covenants. We also have a chance to reflect on what adjustments to make in order to get a better grip on the rock face, to tighten our anchors and secure our ropes. (These adjustments might be revealed to us in the middle of the ordinance of the sacrament, if we are asking, attentive, and attuned.)
It is right that we reverently, yet fervently, intone “O” at the beginning of the sacrament prayers.
What fastens us to God securely? There are many possible answers, but the center of the braided strands of those tethers must include the Holy Ghost, and that is the ultimate purpose, the payoff, the reward, for worthily partaking of the sacrament and renewing our covenants each week:
“…that [we] may always have [Jesus Christ’s] Spirit to be with [us]” (D&C 20:77). This is what the sacrament is ultimately all about.
How desperate are we to get, keep, and follow the Spirit?
“And they did pray for that which they most desired; and they desired that the Holy Ghost should be given unto them” (3Ne. 19:9). That gift will keep us tethered securely to our Father, and enable Him to get us back to Him safely.
