When I was a boy, I spent a week at Yellowstone National Park with other fifth graders. It was a joyful experience. The long bus ride home ended in the middle of the night. I had fallen asleep, and as a groggy eleven year old, I staggered around the rented coach, looking for my bags among the heap of luggage. Someone else was searching for a valuable—I was startled by the strong hand of my father on my shoulder. We hugged, he loaded up my bags in the car, and we drove home. I fell asleep in the car, and awoke in my bed the next morning with no memory of having walked into my room.
I enjoyed that trip, and think of it whenever I see large coaches like the one we rode. I knew that trip was only seven days—I would be home soon. In a similar way, we have all left the presence of God, the Father of our spirits, and we are here as mortals on earth, only for a temporary stay. However, the nature of this life sometimes fools us into thinking that it will go on forever, or that the priorities of this world are the priorities of eternity. It is easy to forget that it is not our permanent residence.
Dual Citizenship
Our spirits come from a celestial home, heaven, while our bodies are comprised of telestial materials of this earth. So we have two sets of laws tugging on us. Sometimes these rules conflict and we need to choose where our loyalties reside. Many of the laws of this world, the telestial kingdom, are compatible with the laws that govern our original celestial home in heaven. “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” (D&C 130:2). Love, friendship, and familial bonds exist in heaven and on earth.
But there are other laws that apply here that do not apply in heaven. Pain is a signal that something in us is broken, or malfunctioning. It can also be psychological, the result of unmet hopes, needs, or disappointed expectations. Watching our loved ones sin or suffer can be excruciating, even when we are physically healthy. Physical pain is native to earth; in heaven, our bodies have everything in place. However, we read that God Himself weeps for us (see Moses 7:28-37). Sorrow is still a possibility there, if only empathically.
Death is a part of this life. Think of how many professions arise out of fear of death and the attempt to prolong life, to avoid death. The soldiers, doctors, farmers, police, security guards, and a host of other professions arise from the need to prevent bodily harm and death.
Another law of this earth is ownership by force. In heaven, says Brigham Young, you do not own anything until you can command it, and it obeys you. In this world, the threat of bodily harm or imprisonment is used to stake a claim on natural resources and artifacts we create with them. Land, gold, cars, and other things are fenced, put in vaults, locked up and set with alarms and video cameras to protect them. Suspicion and distrust of others are not written explicitly on these objects, but the security devices protecting them scream louder than words about that assumption, that others are untrustworthy in the minds of their owners. (Movies actually begin with an overt warning about fines and imprisonment, which is dissonant with the happy fantasies of justice and triumphant idealistic benevolence played out afterward. Apparently we know which side our bread is buttered on.)
Satan tempted Jesus Christ atop a mountain. “And again, Jesus was in the Spirit, and it taketh him up into an exceeding high mountain, and sheweth him all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them;
“And the devil came unto him again, and said, All these things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me” (JST Matt. 4:8-9). In short, the quick way to worldly wealth and fame is to follow Satan. The more our hearts yearn for the things of this world, the more power he has over us. It is possible to procure the necessities of life through righteous labor, but if we want riches and superabundance, the quickest way to the top of the heap is to abuse others, to take advantage of others, and Satan promotes adherence to that kind of law.
He encouraged Cain to murder his brother Abel to get his flocks. In our society today, murder for money is considered evil, but enslaving others under the burdens of crushing debt, or holding the necessities of life (like medicine or a home or cars) for ransom and price-gouging those who need them is considered business as usual. It is a diluted version of the same principle: prospering at others’ expense.
Living here in mortality, it is easy to pick up some of the habits, rules, fashions, fads, and ways of thinking that dominate mortal life; when they run counter to the Gospel, we need to make certain they do not worm their way into our hearts and make us unable to live well in the presence of our actual Father, waiting for our return in our heavenly home.
Heaven
Heaven is not a theme park, where entry instantaneously confers joy; we need to belong there before we can be happy there.
“Behold, I say unto you that ye would be more miserable to dwell with a holy and just God, under a consciousness of your filthiness before him, than ye would to dwell with the damned souls in hell” (Mormon 9:4). Who belongs with God naturally, in His presence?
Transparent
Jesus taught, “Suffer the little children to come unto me…for of such is the kingdom of God” (Mark 10:14). Little children are not always angelic. They can be downright mean and selfish at times. What quality makes them fit to dwell with God? They are not hypocrites. We tend to think of “pure in heart” as virtuous, chaste. Another possible definition presents itself in scripture: “…his heart is pure before me, for he is like unto Nathanael of old, in whom there is no guile” (D&C 41:11). Little kids do not posture or trying to hide anything.
Are we ready to live in a world where our thoughts are transparent, audible and visible to everyone? The Lord will even give us a true look at Himself:
“…that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is…” No wonder we need to become “purified even as he is pure” (Moroni 7:48). What other kind of person could stand such thorough scrutiny? We will feel our “nakedness” in His presence, too.
In this life, externals and appearances get all the emphasis, while motivations are hidden in the black box of the mind and heart. It is possible to do all the right things and appear good while being filled with resentment or wishing for the chance to go out and enjoy some telestial partying. Having our hearts trumpet that desire audibly, loudly echoing throughout the halls of the celestial world, will make heaven into a hell.
Clothes and fashions get such an emphasis in this world because they are all anyone can see. We become bizarre birds of paradise with clothing and paint on the outside, and gray oatmeal emotionally and mentally on the inside, under the influence of this world. (Sin is the great homogenizer.) One maxim states: “Clothes make the man.” What a pathetic thing to confess about ourselves, if that is what we really base our perceptions and priorities on.
In Lehi’s prophetic dream of the Tree of Life, the great and spacious building was “filled with people, both old and young, both male and female; and their manner of dress was exceedingly fine; and they were in the attitude of mocking and pointing their fingers towards those who had come at and were partaking of the fruit (of the tree of life)” (1Ne. 8:27). Preoccupation with externals and regalia as status symbols is a symptom of living in this world for too long.
In heaven, we get every indication that the only thing people wear are simple white robes (see 1Ne. 8:5; 14:19-20; 3Ne. 11:8; JS—H 1:31-32). Who would need to express themselves with fanciful garments when every word in their heads is audible to everyone else? Our real selves would be on display all the time there. Even the light in our countenances would be proportional to our righteousness; we could not apply or remove it like makeup. That kind of faking is impossible there.
Is our identity so fragile that it depends on a few bits of cloth, however expensive or beautiful? Mercifully, the best things we incorporate into ourselves in this life will go with us into heaven, or even rise with us in the resurrection. Tailors cannot confer them, or take them away. (In his book, The Great Divorce, C. S. Lewis even imagines angels running about naked in heaven. This is not the case, but even so, there is no lust there.) To be in heaven is not necessarily to be naked, but we are transparent to God there, and here, but there we will be next to Him and aware of our exposure.
“Have ye received his image in your countenances?” Alma asks (Alma 5:14). Every time I am aware of the presence or absence of this light in people’s eyes and faces, I remember the phrase, “O then, is not this real?” (Alma 32:35). It is not something cameras can capture, yet it is undeniable.
Rank
Preoccupation with status is another symptom of being here on this earth for too long. The world teaches that greatness, authority, preeminence, all hinge on the ability to compel or persuade others to see things our way, to force other people to do what we want.
As with so many things, the definition of greatness in heaven is inverted from the world’s definition. Jesus taught: “But he that is greatest among you shall be your servant.
“And whosoever shall exalt himself shall be abased; and he that shall humble himself shall be exalted” (Matt. 23:11-12). What a silly, unpractical paradigm, at least as viewed from the surface of this dog-eat-dog world. Compassion is seen as weakness; there is never enough of anything, and hording is a manifestation of that uneasiness.
Ownership
We can get some idea of what the economy of heaven is like, and prepare for it so that living there will be comfortable instead of intolerable, by studying the scriptures and looking at the covenants we must make to qualify to live there.
“…all that my Father hath…” (D&C 84:38) describes our reward if we are faithful. But if it’s all His, and all mine, whose is it really? It must belong to EVERYONE, which is another way of saying that in heaven, we live the law of consecration.
The Prophet Joseph said that “God had often sealed up the heavens because of covetousness in the Church” (TPJS, p. 9). “Nevertheless, in your temporal things you shall be equal, and this not grudgingly, otherwise the abundance of the manifestations of the Spirit shall be withheld” (D&C 70:14).
If we want the riches of eternity, we must be willing to share them with others. Heaven is “an innumerable company” (D&C 138:12), not a retirement home for hermits parted by infinite space. How well do we get along with others? Can we forgive them when they accidentally step on our toes? Most of all, are we willing to share? The emotional habit of greed is a faux pas by celestial standards. God is generous; to be like Him means to be generous.
“For the earth is full, and there is enough and to spare; yea, I prepared all things, and have given unto the children of men to be agents unto themselves” (D&C 104:17). If there is scarcity in the world today, it is because it is being artificially created and maintained by us.
We worry that we will damage the virtue of hard work necessitated by the curse of Adam if we share with others; how valid is this concern, or is it an excuse? “And I hold forth and deign to give unto you greater riches, even a land of promise, a land flowing with milk and honey, upon which there shall be no curse when the Lord cometh…” (D&C 38:18). Again: “And, as I, the Lord, in the beginning cursed the land, even so in the last days have I blessed it, in its time, for the use of my saints, that they may partake of the fatness thereof” (D&C 61:17).
A scarcity mentality drives our insane dash to accumulate. Abusing authority is another way to get rich. Status and its symbols can be enough by themselves to convince others of rank. (I once entered a work site to do some manual labor as a temp worker, and the other workers assumed I was a supervisor because my shirt had buttons and a collar.) Position is respected automatically, instinctively, by something inside us. Those who are aware of this instinct will play it to the hilt to their own advantage. They will even get intoxicated with it, believing they really are great.
Leviticus 19 has a simple theme: This is the way the Lord is; YOU be that way also. “Ye shall do no unrighteousness in judgment: thou shalt not respect the person of the poor, nor honour the person of the mighty: but in righteousness shalt thou judge thy neighbor” (v. 15). Status and clothing and money (or their lack) do not cloud God’s view of another person; we should see in the same way.
Section 1 was dictated as a preface to the Doctrine and Covenants after many revelations had already been received: “I the Lord am willing to make these things known unto all flesh;
“For I am no respecter of persons, and will that all men shall know that the day speedily cometh; the hour is not yet, but is nigh at hand, when peace shall be taken from the earth, and the devil shall have power over his own dominion.
“And also the Lord shall have power over his saints, and shall reign in their midst, and shall come down in judgment upon Idumea, or the world” (1:34-36). Let’s not be worldy. This planet is a nice place to visit, but it will require extensive renovation before it is fit as a permanent dwelling for us and our real Father.
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Refining Definitions
It has almost become a cliché that those who are called to give talks on this or that subject will begin by defining name of their subject. (For example, Gospel literally means good news.) It can be good to update and refine our personal definitions of scriptural terms occasionally. When are they ever complete?
My first lessons about driving a car included instructions to walk around any car before driving and make certain the tires were inflated, and no gasoline or other fluids were leaking. Today I almost never stop to consider those things; I just get in my car and go.
In a similar way, it is easy to assume that we have the basics down—that our personal definitions of scriptural terms are compatible with the actual definitions. Most of them are, but often there are gaps in our understandings of the fundamentals, and this can lead us to incorrect actions or assumptions. We can falsely believe we have crossed the finish line when there is none.
Scriptural definitions of words and their secular counterparts are often quite different (e.g. converted means “convinced” in popular terms, but it means “altered by God” in the scriptures).
Below are some terms that are not as simple as they sound at first.
Faith
What could be simpler? Faith usually means “a belief one holds beyond physical proof.” The scriptures distinguish between mere belief on the one hand, and faith on the other. Faith is a subcategory of belief; it is a belief in things unseen but TRUE. “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Heb. 11:1; JST says “Now faith is the assurance…”).
“…faith is things which are hoped for and not seen…” (Ether 12:6). (The most important of these unseen but true things is Jesus Himself.)
In other words, to believe in something unseen and false, or to believe in something seen and true, are not scriptural examples of faith. It must be a belief in that which is unseen and true to qualify as the kind of faith the scriptures say we need.
The scriptures refer to faith as “evidence.” How can a belief in something be evidence of that thing? Again, scriptural terms are not as simple as they seem at first.
Alma 32 is generally considered the go-to passage in the Book of Mormon about increasing one’s faith. If you read it carefully, you recognize that Alma has a few assumptions, and one of them is that each person has some kind of built-in spiritual truth detector.
“…we will compare the word to a seed…if ye give place, that a seed may be planted in your heart, behold, if it be a true seed, or a good seed, if ye do not cast it out by your unbelief, that ye will resist the Spirit of the Lord, behold, it will begin to swell within your breasts; and when you feel these swelling motions, ye will begin to say within yourselves—It must needs be that this is a good seed, or that the word is good, for it beginneth to enlighten my soul; yea, it beginneth to enlarge my understanding, yea, it beginneth to be delicious to me.
“Now, behold, would not this increase your faith? I say unto you, Yea…” (Alma 32:28-29).
Alma here assumes that if anyone hears the truth, and takes a chance by accepting it into his or her heart, the validity of the ideas will elicit certain responses in the person. It will cause feelings—“swelling motions,” good feelings, inside of a person. It will “enlarge” the soul, “enlighten” the understanding, and become “delicious” to a person. Just as the palate can detect the foul taste of poison or the sweetness of sugar, Alma is telling us that we have the ability to “taste” when an idea is correct, and that recognizing that sweetness will increase our faith (when we look for it).
Another assumption of Alma’s we often overlook is the roll of the Holy Ghost in this process of building faith—he says if we “will resist the Spirit of the Lord” it might short-circuit things. That is another element of faith that goes beyond secular or popular definitions—revelation. It is not just a man sitting in a padded cell reading the scriptures and achieving an epiphany on his own. A member of the Godhead is involved in the process of lighting the flame of our faith.
Almost immediately after the Savior appears to the Nephites, He tells them: “Verily, verily, I say unto you, that this is my doctrine, and I bear record of it from the Father; and whoso believeth in me believeth in the Father also; and unto him will the Father bear record of me, for he will visit him with fire and with the Holy Ghost.
“And thus will the Father bear record of me, and the Holy Ghost will bear record of the Father and me…” (3Ne. 11:35-36). Any old kind of belief will not suffice. Faith built on suppositions, assumptions, casual acceptance, leaning on the words of trustworthy authority figures, even witnessing miracles, is not enough; we must all receive some confirmation from God in our hearts before we have the kind of faith in Christ required of us.
Repentance
Sometimes we twist the scriptures by tacking another word onto a term, and suddenly it loses all its meaning, or gets warped into something else, sidetracked. The Savior says: “…the Father commandeth all men, everywhere, to repent and believe in me” (3Ne. 11:32).
In the scriptures, repentance is something everyone is commanded to do all the time. We are commanded by the Savior, “be ye…perfect,” (3Ne. 12:48, Matt. 5:48), and that is never fully completed for us here; it will come long after the resurrection. In other words, we are not to beat ourselves up, but we are not to rest on our laurels, either. For all practical purposes, legitimate repentance never ends—any improvement we make in this life counts as repentance.
In our Sunday schools and sacrament meeting talks, we have begun to tack a word onto repentance that does not follow it in the scriptures: “process.” This gives kids in the audience a false impression—that repentance is like a regimen of medicine you have to take for a while after you do something really naughty, something you can spit out and leave on the shelf when you have suffered enough.
This can create a negative stigma—that repentance is like a dunce cap or a scarlet letter, a badge of shame to punish those who have done something very terrible. When we hold to this mentality, any suggestion that we need to repent is tantamount to attacking us, impugning our character.
There is no neat, start-to-finish “repentance process,” unless the process is life-long. “…all men, everywhere…” must repent continually. Anyone who is not repenting is necessarily backsliding. A living tree always adds new rings of growth.
Feeling guilty all the time is not a legitimate part of repentance, either. We often conflate feeling sorry or depressed with genuine scriptural humility. Alma tells his wayward son, Corianton: “…only let your sins trouble you, with that trouble which shall bring you down unto repentance” (Alma 42:29).
Sorrow for sins should soon be replaced by resolve to live well—constant guilt morphs into shame, which can cripple progress along the Gospel path here and now (though there is a place and time for guilt when we repent). If misery were the essence of genuine humility, Satan would be humble. Genuine humility is closer to willingness—being ready and prepared and even eager to do what God commands us, coupled with an acknowledgement that we desperately need His help.
If there is a “repentance process,” it is a never ending one. Creating the false impression that it is a brief “process” can eclipse the fuller meaning of repentance—continual lifelong refinement.
Rebirth—A Mighty Change
All these terms funnel into another concept mentioned frequently in the Book of Mormon, but that is generally not well understood among us members of the Church—spiritual rebirth, the “mighty change of heart.” One member I talked with thought that being reborn meant the ordinance of confirmation after baptism. Rebirth might come at that moment, but often it does not.
The earth was baptized with the flood, but it has yet to be baptized with fire; many of us are in a similar condition spiritually. We have received ordinances, but not that rebirth, that change of heart.
One well-meaning speaker conflated the scriptural term “mighty change of heart” with the enthusiasm we feel after a rousing sermon. We recommit ourselves on special occasions, determined to try harder and do better. This enthusiasm is a good thing, but it ebbs and flows, comes and goes. It is not what the scriptures mean when the say “a mighty change of heart.”
This change is conversion, something the Lord does to us or in us; it is not something we work on, or cause through our own efforts alone. We can work on or practice at keeping the commandments, and these exertions are good, but they do not constitute or directly cause spiritual rebirth.
So often, we want everything in the Gospel to conform to what we can touch, see, and understand with our natural minds. We comprehend working harder and getting good at something, and that has application in the plan of salvation, but there are certain parts of the plan that do not make any sense to the natural man, yet are also critical.
For instance, why would being very, very, very humble before God, and having faith in Him, and being baptized and confirmed, make cigarettes unappealing to an addict? There is no physical connection between the two things, and yet the laws of God and His power, the power of the Atonement, can cause such a change. If we were supposed to rescue ourselves, why would we need a Savior? He does for us that which we cannot do for ourselves, including changing our natures to more closely align with His.
A lady I encountered on my mission (recently converted to the Church) told me and my companion that one day her nicotine addiction was simply gone—no work, no toil, no practice—the Lord had just changed her heart. This is a miracle, something that defies our assumptions about nature. Her husband, also a smoker, was not a member of the Church (and not interested in it). Yet even he was compelled to acknowledge, despite his lack of faith, that her sudden freedom from craving, or any symptoms of withdrawals, was remarkable. This is a practical example of that mighty change of heart.
This scares us members of the Church—it does not fit into our paradigm of working harder and seeing results. Also, it is not something one can bottle or distribute like an elixir. We would rather rely on the faulty arm of the flesh to get the Lord’s work done, and see mediocre results, than “relying wholly upon the merits of him who is mighty to save” (2Ne. 31:19).
This kind of a change is the result of coming to the Savior in deep humility and faith. When we are humble, He baptizes us “with fire and with the Holy Ghost” (3Ne. 9:20). This is not an increase in our enthusiasm—this change is something we might not be aware of: “…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).
We can do our best to obey the commandments externally, yet miss out on this mighty change because we are not humble enough.
What constitutes real humility? “I’ll do it your way Lord—I need your help,” captures some of it. Another way to gauge our humility: Go through the list of things we love, and ask one by one, “Would I surrender this to the Lord if He asked me to give it up?” The point here is not to hate everything but the Lord, or to think that the things we love are necessarily bad; the real question is, Do we love the Lord more than anything?
Abraham loved Isaac, but he loved the Lord more. Isaac was not bad—he was a gift from God to his parents, a miracle child. Surrendering Isaac by itself was no virtue; indeed, it was appropriate for Abraham to love this boy. The real virtue was in keeping the first commandment—to love God before all else. That is authentic humility, and has nothing to do with belittling ourselves or feeling guilty.
The things we surrender are not what God wants (He already owns everything); what they represent, the offering of “a broken heart and a contrite spirit,” that is what He wants from us.
He will not overstep agency—God only changes our hearts when we surrender them to Him. The more we surrender our hearts, the more He will change them. Often that surrender is accompanied by some outward act, and we can confuse that outward obedience with the real cause of the sanctification we see in ourselves. Were the ten lepers healed because they started walking towards the priest, or were they healed because that show of faith increased their faith in Jesus and His power to heal them? Are we reborn because we keep the commandments outwardly, or because keeping the commandments (or attempting to do so) engenders that humility and faith in Jesus Christ that leads to conversion, a mighty change?
When we share or study the gospel, it is good to examine our assumptions about what terms mean. False assumptions that we fully comprehend Gospel vocabulary can impair our understanding, or even spiritual progress.
My first lessons about driving a car included instructions to walk around any car before driving and make certain the tires were inflated, and no gasoline or other fluids were leaking. Today I almost never stop to consider those things; I just get in my car and go.
In a similar way, it is easy to assume that we have the basics down—that our personal definitions of scriptural terms are compatible with the actual definitions. Most of them are, but often there are gaps in our understandings of the fundamentals, and this can lead us to incorrect actions or assumptions. We can falsely believe we have crossed the finish line when there is none.
Scriptural definitions of words and their secular counterparts are often quite different (e.g. converted means “convinced” in popular terms, but it means “altered by God” in the scriptures).
Below are some terms that are not as simple as they sound at first.
Faith
What could be simpler? Faith usually means “a belief one holds beyond physical proof.” The scriptures distinguish between mere belief on the one hand, and faith on the other. Faith is a subcategory of belief; it is a belief in things unseen but TRUE. “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Heb. 11:1; JST says “Now faith is the assurance…”).
“…faith is things which are hoped for and not seen…” (Ether 12:6). (The most important of these unseen but true things is Jesus Himself.)
In other words, to believe in something unseen and false, or to believe in something seen and true, are not scriptural examples of faith. It must be a belief in that which is unseen and true to qualify as the kind of faith the scriptures say we need.
The scriptures refer to faith as “evidence.” How can a belief in something be evidence of that thing? Again, scriptural terms are not as simple as they seem at first.
Alma 32 is generally considered the go-to passage in the Book of Mormon about increasing one’s faith. If you read it carefully, you recognize that Alma has a few assumptions, and one of them is that each person has some kind of built-in spiritual truth detector.
“…we will compare the word to a seed…if ye give place, that a seed may be planted in your heart, behold, if it be a true seed, or a good seed, if ye do not cast it out by your unbelief, that ye will resist the Spirit of the Lord, behold, it will begin to swell within your breasts; and when you feel these swelling motions, ye will begin to say within yourselves—It must needs be that this is a good seed, or that the word is good, for it beginneth to enlighten my soul; yea, it beginneth to enlarge my understanding, yea, it beginneth to be delicious to me.
“Now, behold, would not this increase your faith? I say unto you, Yea…” (Alma 32:28-29).
Alma here assumes that if anyone hears the truth, and takes a chance by accepting it into his or her heart, the validity of the ideas will elicit certain responses in the person. It will cause feelings—“swelling motions,” good feelings, inside of a person. It will “enlarge” the soul, “enlighten” the understanding, and become “delicious” to a person. Just as the palate can detect the foul taste of poison or the sweetness of sugar, Alma is telling us that we have the ability to “taste” when an idea is correct, and that recognizing that sweetness will increase our faith (when we look for it).
Another assumption of Alma’s we often overlook is the roll of the Holy Ghost in this process of building faith—he says if we “will resist the Spirit of the Lord” it might short-circuit things. That is another element of faith that goes beyond secular or popular definitions—revelation. It is not just a man sitting in a padded cell reading the scriptures and achieving an epiphany on his own. A member of the Godhead is involved in the process of lighting the flame of our faith.
Almost immediately after the Savior appears to the Nephites, He tells them: “Verily, verily, I say unto you, that this is my doctrine, and I bear record of it from the Father; and whoso believeth in me believeth in the Father also; and unto him will the Father bear record of me, for he will visit him with fire and with the Holy Ghost.
“And thus will the Father bear record of me, and the Holy Ghost will bear record of the Father and me…” (3Ne. 11:35-36). Any old kind of belief will not suffice. Faith built on suppositions, assumptions, casual acceptance, leaning on the words of trustworthy authority figures, even witnessing miracles, is not enough; we must all receive some confirmation from God in our hearts before we have the kind of faith in Christ required of us.
Repentance
Sometimes we twist the scriptures by tacking another word onto a term, and suddenly it loses all its meaning, or gets warped into something else, sidetracked. The Savior says: “…the Father commandeth all men, everywhere, to repent and believe in me” (3Ne. 11:32).
In the scriptures, repentance is something everyone is commanded to do all the time. We are commanded by the Savior, “be ye…perfect,” (3Ne. 12:48, Matt. 5:48), and that is never fully completed for us here; it will come long after the resurrection. In other words, we are not to beat ourselves up, but we are not to rest on our laurels, either. For all practical purposes, legitimate repentance never ends—any improvement we make in this life counts as repentance.
In our Sunday schools and sacrament meeting talks, we have begun to tack a word onto repentance that does not follow it in the scriptures: “process.” This gives kids in the audience a false impression—that repentance is like a regimen of medicine you have to take for a while after you do something really naughty, something you can spit out and leave on the shelf when you have suffered enough.
This can create a negative stigma—that repentance is like a dunce cap or a scarlet letter, a badge of shame to punish those who have done something very terrible. When we hold to this mentality, any suggestion that we need to repent is tantamount to attacking us, impugning our character.
There is no neat, start-to-finish “repentance process,” unless the process is life-long. “…all men, everywhere…” must repent continually. Anyone who is not repenting is necessarily backsliding. A living tree always adds new rings of growth.
Feeling guilty all the time is not a legitimate part of repentance, either. We often conflate feeling sorry or depressed with genuine scriptural humility. Alma tells his wayward son, Corianton: “…only let your sins trouble you, with that trouble which shall bring you down unto repentance” (Alma 42:29).
Sorrow for sins should soon be replaced by resolve to live well—constant guilt morphs into shame, which can cripple progress along the Gospel path here and now (though there is a place and time for guilt when we repent). If misery were the essence of genuine humility, Satan would be humble. Genuine humility is closer to willingness—being ready and prepared and even eager to do what God commands us, coupled with an acknowledgement that we desperately need His help.
If there is a “repentance process,” it is a never ending one. Creating the false impression that it is a brief “process” can eclipse the fuller meaning of repentance—continual lifelong refinement.
Rebirth—A Mighty Change
All these terms funnel into another concept mentioned frequently in the Book of Mormon, but that is generally not well understood among us members of the Church—spiritual rebirth, the “mighty change of heart.” One member I talked with thought that being reborn meant the ordinance of confirmation after baptism. Rebirth might come at that moment, but often it does not.
The earth was baptized with the flood, but it has yet to be baptized with fire; many of us are in a similar condition spiritually. We have received ordinances, but not that rebirth, that change of heart.
One well-meaning speaker conflated the scriptural term “mighty change of heart” with the enthusiasm we feel after a rousing sermon. We recommit ourselves on special occasions, determined to try harder and do better. This enthusiasm is a good thing, but it ebbs and flows, comes and goes. It is not what the scriptures mean when the say “a mighty change of heart.”
This change is conversion, something the Lord does to us or in us; it is not something we work on, or cause through our own efforts alone. We can work on or practice at keeping the commandments, and these exertions are good, but they do not constitute or directly cause spiritual rebirth.
So often, we want everything in the Gospel to conform to what we can touch, see, and understand with our natural minds. We comprehend working harder and getting good at something, and that has application in the plan of salvation, but there are certain parts of the plan that do not make any sense to the natural man, yet are also critical.
For instance, why would being very, very, very humble before God, and having faith in Him, and being baptized and confirmed, make cigarettes unappealing to an addict? There is no physical connection between the two things, and yet the laws of God and His power, the power of the Atonement, can cause such a change. If we were supposed to rescue ourselves, why would we need a Savior? He does for us that which we cannot do for ourselves, including changing our natures to more closely align with His.
A lady I encountered on my mission (recently converted to the Church) told me and my companion that one day her nicotine addiction was simply gone—no work, no toil, no practice—the Lord had just changed her heart. This is a miracle, something that defies our assumptions about nature. Her husband, also a smoker, was not a member of the Church (and not interested in it). Yet even he was compelled to acknowledge, despite his lack of faith, that her sudden freedom from craving, or any symptoms of withdrawals, was remarkable. This is a practical example of that mighty change of heart.
This scares us members of the Church—it does not fit into our paradigm of working harder and seeing results. Also, it is not something one can bottle or distribute like an elixir. We would rather rely on the faulty arm of the flesh to get the Lord’s work done, and see mediocre results, than “relying wholly upon the merits of him who is mighty to save” (2Ne. 31:19).
This kind of a change is the result of coming to the Savior in deep humility and faith. When we are humble, He baptizes us “with fire and with the Holy Ghost” (3Ne. 9:20). This is not an increase in our enthusiasm—this change is something we might not be aware of: “…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).
We can do our best to obey the commandments externally, yet miss out on this mighty change because we are not humble enough.
What constitutes real humility? “I’ll do it your way Lord—I need your help,” captures some of it. Another way to gauge our humility: Go through the list of things we love, and ask one by one, “Would I surrender this to the Lord if He asked me to give it up?” The point here is not to hate everything but the Lord, or to think that the things we love are necessarily bad; the real question is, Do we love the Lord more than anything?
Abraham loved Isaac, but he loved the Lord more. Isaac was not bad—he was a gift from God to his parents, a miracle child. Surrendering Isaac by itself was no virtue; indeed, it was appropriate for Abraham to love this boy. The real virtue was in keeping the first commandment—to love God before all else. That is authentic humility, and has nothing to do with belittling ourselves or feeling guilty.
The things we surrender are not what God wants (He already owns everything); what they represent, the offering of “a broken heart and a contrite spirit,” that is what He wants from us.
He will not overstep agency—God only changes our hearts when we surrender them to Him. The more we surrender our hearts, the more He will change them. Often that surrender is accompanied by some outward act, and we can confuse that outward obedience with the real cause of the sanctification we see in ourselves. Were the ten lepers healed because they started walking towards the priest, or were they healed because that show of faith increased their faith in Jesus and His power to heal them? Are we reborn because we keep the commandments outwardly, or because keeping the commandments (or attempting to do so) engenders that humility and faith in Jesus Christ that leads to conversion, a mighty change?
When we share or study the gospel, it is good to examine our assumptions about what terms mean. False assumptions that we fully comprehend Gospel vocabulary can impair our understanding, or even spiritual progress.
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Mistaken Message
It is easy for us mortals to forget. Each week the bread and water, emblems of Jesus’ sacrifice for us, are distributed by the young men in the Church, and we hear the words “always remember Him.” This is mental exercise, and it requires exertion, especially when other things take precedence over Him in our hearts. It is also easy for us to step out the door without all necessary equipment in place.
Adam sacrificed sheep to commemorate the death, vicarious suffering, and resurrection of the Savior. This event was not meant to be a then-over-there abstraction; the blood and the smoke were vivid reminders, and the invitation to take the name of Christ upon us that we find in the sacrament was a part of Adam’s emblems and worship, too:
An angel appears to Adam, and asks, “Why dost thou offer sacrifices unto the Lord? And Adam said unto him: I know not, save the Lord commanded me.
“And then the angel spake, saying: This thing is a similitude of the sacrifice of the Only Begotten of the Father, which is full of grace and truth.
“Wherefore, thou shalt do all that thou doest in the name of the Son, and thou shalt repent and call upon God in the name of the Son forevermore” (Moses 5:6-8).
It is easy to forget as we attend Church and partake of the sacrament and administer and receive ordinances that these things did not originate on the earth—they were committed to men by heavenly messengers, angels.
King Benjamin also had an angel appear to him. The theme of the message was sacrifice and the Atonement, only it was more detailed than what we have about the angelic appearing to Adam:
“And he shall be called Jesus Christ…
“…he cometh unto his own, that salvation might come unto the children of men through faith on his name…they shall…scourge him, and shall crucify him.
“And he shall rise the third day from the dead…
“For…his blood atoneth for the sins of those who have fallen by the transgression of Adam…
“…salvation cometh to none…except it be through repentance and faith on the Lord Jesus Christ.
“…as in Adam, or by nature, they fall, even so the blood of Christ atoneth for their sins
“…there shall be no other name given nor any other way nor means whereby salvation can come unto the children of men, only in and through the name of Christ, the Lord…
“…men drink damnation to their own souls except they humble themselves and become as little children, and believe that salvation was, and is, and is to come, in and through the atoning blood of Christ, the Lord Omnipotent” (Mosiah 3:8-12, 16-18). This entire chapter is a direct quotation from an angel, delivered by King Benjamin to an audience gathered at the Temple.
Does this revelation from an angel address anything that worries us? If it does not, perhaps we are worried about the wrong things. People who have never experienced a car accident might not take their seatbelts seriously; do we feel indifferent about this message? This stuff must be more important than anything else, because the Lord’s servants repeat it so often. (We murmur because they always talk about the “same things.” Might we be in need of review on these subjects?)
According to King Benjamin’s recitation, ignorance means innocence, and little children get a break, but the rest of us must be repenting continuously to be saved by Jesus Christ.
There is a temptation to look for finish lines in the race of salvation where there are none. There is no brief “repentance process,” any more than there is a one-time “breathing process.” We must breathe continuously to stay alive; we must repent all the time, the remainder of our lives to be saved. Humility is not a temporary state we achieve in order to be forgiven, something we discard when we are done feeling sorrow for our sins; it is a virtue we need to have stamped onto our souls in a permanent fashion if we want to belong in heaven.
The Natural Boogey-Man
King Benjamin spoke at the Temple; the themes of sacrifice, taking the name of Christ upon ourselves, the Fall of Adam, and Atonement or reunion, being healed of the Fall, are all pertinent to that sacred place.
Part of his speech, Mosiah 3:19, has become an oft-quoted passage from the Book of Mormon:
“For the natural man is an enemy to God…” What is the “natural man?” Natural has the same etymology as native, nativity, navel…it just refers to the way we are predisposed to be. We try to make it sound like the natural man is some They or Them, those evil monsters out there. The natural man becomes a scapegoat, a boogey-man who haunts us. No, it IS us; we are all born and so inherit Adam’s nature. The natural man has some good traits; he instinctively takes care of children and loves his friends. Some of our natural proclivities are also horrendous; prisons are full of people who stepped outside of society’s codified laws.
But there are socially accepted thoughts, feelings, and actions that are repugnant to the laws of God. Just because our neighbors wink at them and give us a pass does not mean we can fool God. His stamp of approval is not the world’s, and vice versa.
It is not enough to look righteous, to put on a show. To be motivated to do good by social pressure can be as detrimental as sinning outright, because it conflates our desire for social approval with our love for God which should be our main motivation. Nephi classes popularity along with the lusts of the flesh, power, and wealth as temptations. We will be destroyed when we pursue them. Keeping the commandments to get social approval is really just another play for popularity, and it is a subtle trap that can keep us from experiencing true conversion. Perhaps the Prodigal Son had an advantage over his grouchy yet obedient brother—at least he had come to himself, seen himself and his father in the light of truth. The other son only thought he was being righteous, but we get a hint that he also wanted to be out partying. Neither, at first, was content to be home with Dad, laboring on the farm.
Natural Man, Supernatural Solution
Vilifying the natural man is not the solution to having a fallen nature. We do not wait until a broken leg is set and healed before we go to the doctor; why do we tend to hide from the Lord when we are sick with sin? Social pressure would promote hiding sins; the Lord wants us to open up to Him, to come as the messes we truly are, so that healing can commence.
“For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless…” Unless what? What comes next? A checklist of duties? An admonition to comb our hair and sit up straight? Encouragement to run ourselves ragged, shotgunning goodness everywhere at random until we collapse with fatigue? These things are NOT what the angel tells King Benjamin, but unfortunately that is the essence of what many Latter-day Saints perceive, the message they take away, when they read this verse—try harder, keep using your mortal wisdom, strength, and resources, exhaust yourself, whip and prod yourself with guilt and shame, etc. No wonder we get fatigued and grouchy. Is that peace, love, joy, or salvation?
(I fear that many who become disaffect from the Church are not apostatizing from the Church at all, but from what they perceive as the Church, an unfair list of demands bereft of joy, rather than an invitation to be saved from bad desires and filled with good desires, so that all these chores become a joy instead of a burden.)
What follows the “unless” is no invitation to apply man’s wisdom or powers to our predicament. Jesus Christ is our Savior, not a chef who provides stone soup while we bring the real carrots, potatoes, the actual food. We say He is our Rescuer, a Savior, but then we insist that the key to our salvation is OUR efforts and exertion. Is that faith?
Is gagging down unpleasant assignments from the Lord a sign of virtue, or should we be finding a way to be changed to enjoy our duties? At some point we have to begin to believe and apply all this stuff in the scriptures, if we want to see actual progress inside and outside ourselves.
What follows the “unless?”
“…unless he yields to the enticing of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord…” This is no call to increase our numbers, work harder, put on a show, be more frenetic or fanatical or judgmental in our observances, pretend that we enjoy stuff we hate, etc., because none of those things have the power to change our natures significantly. We are not invited to scuff our feet on the carpet to make electricity; we are invited to put up our lightning rods and access greater power.
Changed First, Then Greatness Follows
There is an inextricable connection between accessing this power, and our internal attitude, humility: “…and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit…” These words sicken our modern ears. Humility is not the American way, as Elder Holland noted. Yet this unpleasant virtue is a key that opens the door—that activates heaven’s power in us. Instead of increasing our output, the invitation is to be more and more humble. We can increase our exertion without any significant change in our natures; Laman and Lemuel did everything they were told to do.
Nephi experienced a change of nature by the Lord before he began his journey, and he cites that as the main difference between himself and Laman and Lemuel: “…I did cry unto the Lord; and behold he did visit me, and did soften my heart that I did believe all the words which had been spoken by my father; wherefore, I did not rebel against him like unto my brothers.
“…Blessed art thou, Nephi, because of thy faith, for thou hast sought me diligently, with lowliness of heart” (1Ne. 2:16, 19). His humility enabled him to be born again, changed from his carnal and fallen state to a state of righteousness, having no more disposition to do evil, but to do good continually. He offered his whole self to the Lord, and then the Lord changed him. Nephi experienced this mighty change of heart BEFORE his journey began.
Suited Up First
We are so caught up in the romance of upward struggles the Lord demands of us that we forget that we need to be suited up by Him, changed by Him, and prepared to tackle our duties successfully. (Adam and Eve received their clothes from the Lord before they left the Garden to face the difficult fallen world.)
The natural man believes in what his physical senses confirm and report to him after experimentation. We tend to hear only a call to work-work-work harder when we hear Church leaders or read the scriptures because miraculous intervention is outside of the boundaries of what the natural man will accept. We cannot bottle, buy, or sell a change of heart; we cannot prove that divine intervention enables us to resist temptations; and who wants to be humble enough to enjoy these things, anyway? We can just work harder and feign substitute versions without being humble.
Eventually, anything of this world that we rely on will break down, fail, malfunction, and leave us stranded. We cannot successfully perform the Lord’s work by relying on the arm of the flesh. Other sources cease to make us whole at some point, and this rock-bottom state is exactly where most of us discover the power of God, because it is the moment we let go of our own wisdom and strength, and decide to trust the Lord. When our humility increases, we qualify for spiritual rebirth: “And whoso cometh unto me with a broken heart and a contrite spirit, him will I baptize with fire and with the Holy Ghost…” (3Ne. 9:20).
Again: “I give unto men weakness that they may be humble…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).
Does our obedience play a role? When it grows out of that humility, or increases it, yes, it will.
It is easy to forget that the point of all these commandments and assignments is salvation for us and others. They are not ends unto themselves; sanctified, resurrected souls united as eternal families are the final products of this life, not clean meeting houses, Temples, full pantries, or astonishing numbers that can be graphed on charts.
To work ourselves into exhaustion obeying the Lord’s commandments without experiencing spiritual rebirth first is like a child, eager to help Mom, taking something out of the oven without protective mitts and burning himself. He does not understand that his welfare is more important to Mom than preventing burnt cookies. He might even think He is brave or loyal because he burned himself for Mom, but is it really what she wants? Proper use of some protective gear will enable him to help Mom and prevent injury, and both ends are served.
Adam sacrificed sheep to commemorate the death, vicarious suffering, and resurrection of the Savior. This event was not meant to be a then-over-there abstraction; the blood and the smoke were vivid reminders, and the invitation to take the name of Christ upon us that we find in the sacrament was a part of Adam’s emblems and worship, too:
An angel appears to Adam, and asks, “Why dost thou offer sacrifices unto the Lord? And Adam said unto him: I know not, save the Lord commanded me.
“And then the angel spake, saying: This thing is a similitude of the sacrifice of the Only Begotten of the Father, which is full of grace and truth.
“Wherefore, thou shalt do all that thou doest in the name of the Son, and thou shalt repent and call upon God in the name of the Son forevermore” (Moses 5:6-8).
It is easy to forget as we attend Church and partake of the sacrament and administer and receive ordinances that these things did not originate on the earth—they were committed to men by heavenly messengers, angels.
King Benjamin also had an angel appear to him. The theme of the message was sacrifice and the Atonement, only it was more detailed than what we have about the angelic appearing to Adam:
“And he shall be called Jesus Christ…
“…he cometh unto his own, that salvation might come unto the children of men through faith on his name…they shall…scourge him, and shall crucify him.
“And he shall rise the third day from the dead…
“For…his blood atoneth for the sins of those who have fallen by the transgression of Adam…
“…salvation cometh to none…except it be through repentance and faith on the Lord Jesus Christ.
“…as in Adam, or by nature, they fall, even so the blood of Christ atoneth for their sins
“…there shall be no other name given nor any other way nor means whereby salvation can come unto the children of men, only in and through the name of Christ, the Lord…
“…men drink damnation to their own souls except they humble themselves and become as little children, and believe that salvation was, and is, and is to come, in and through the atoning blood of Christ, the Lord Omnipotent” (Mosiah 3:8-12, 16-18). This entire chapter is a direct quotation from an angel, delivered by King Benjamin to an audience gathered at the Temple.
Does this revelation from an angel address anything that worries us? If it does not, perhaps we are worried about the wrong things. People who have never experienced a car accident might not take their seatbelts seriously; do we feel indifferent about this message? This stuff must be more important than anything else, because the Lord’s servants repeat it so often. (We murmur because they always talk about the “same things.” Might we be in need of review on these subjects?)
According to King Benjamin’s recitation, ignorance means innocence, and little children get a break, but the rest of us must be repenting continuously to be saved by Jesus Christ.
There is a temptation to look for finish lines in the race of salvation where there are none. There is no brief “repentance process,” any more than there is a one-time “breathing process.” We must breathe continuously to stay alive; we must repent all the time, the remainder of our lives to be saved. Humility is not a temporary state we achieve in order to be forgiven, something we discard when we are done feeling sorrow for our sins; it is a virtue we need to have stamped onto our souls in a permanent fashion if we want to belong in heaven.
The Natural Boogey-Man
King Benjamin spoke at the Temple; the themes of sacrifice, taking the name of Christ upon ourselves, the Fall of Adam, and Atonement or reunion, being healed of the Fall, are all pertinent to that sacred place.
Part of his speech, Mosiah 3:19, has become an oft-quoted passage from the Book of Mormon:
“For the natural man is an enemy to God…” What is the “natural man?” Natural has the same etymology as native, nativity, navel…it just refers to the way we are predisposed to be. We try to make it sound like the natural man is some They or Them, those evil monsters out there. The natural man becomes a scapegoat, a boogey-man who haunts us. No, it IS us; we are all born and so inherit Adam’s nature. The natural man has some good traits; he instinctively takes care of children and loves his friends. Some of our natural proclivities are also horrendous; prisons are full of people who stepped outside of society’s codified laws.
But there are socially accepted thoughts, feelings, and actions that are repugnant to the laws of God. Just because our neighbors wink at them and give us a pass does not mean we can fool God. His stamp of approval is not the world’s, and vice versa.
It is not enough to look righteous, to put on a show. To be motivated to do good by social pressure can be as detrimental as sinning outright, because it conflates our desire for social approval with our love for God which should be our main motivation. Nephi classes popularity along with the lusts of the flesh, power, and wealth as temptations. We will be destroyed when we pursue them. Keeping the commandments to get social approval is really just another play for popularity, and it is a subtle trap that can keep us from experiencing true conversion. Perhaps the Prodigal Son had an advantage over his grouchy yet obedient brother—at least he had come to himself, seen himself and his father in the light of truth. The other son only thought he was being righteous, but we get a hint that he also wanted to be out partying. Neither, at first, was content to be home with Dad, laboring on the farm.
Natural Man, Supernatural Solution
Vilifying the natural man is not the solution to having a fallen nature. We do not wait until a broken leg is set and healed before we go to the doctor; why do we tend to hide from the Lord when we are sick with sin? Social pressure would promote hiding sins; the Lord wants us to open up to Him, to come as the messes we truly are, so that healing can commence.
“For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless…” Unless what? What comes next? A checklist of duties? An admonition to comb our hair and sit up straight? Encouragement to run ourselves ragged, shotgunning goodness everywhere at random until we collapse with fatigue? These things are NOT what the angel tells King Benjamin, but unfortunately that is the essence of what many Latter-day Saints perceive, the message they take away, when they read this verse—try harder, keep using your mortal wisdom, strength, and resources, exhaust yourself, whip and prod yourself with guilt and shame, etc. No wonder we get fatigued and grouchy. Is that peace, love, joy, or salvation?
(I fear that many who become disaffect from the Church are not apostatizing from the Church at all, but from what they perceive as the Church, an unfair list of demands bereft of joy, rather than an invitation to be saved from bad desires and filled with good desires, so that all these chores become a joy instead of a burden.)
What follows the “unless” is no invitation to apply man’s wisdom or powers to our predicament. Jesus Christ is our Savior, not a chef who provides stone soup while we bring the real carrots, potatoes, the actual food. We say He is our Rescuer, a Savior, but then we insist that the key to our salvation is OUR efforts and exertion. Is that faith?
Is gagging down unpleasant assignments from the Lord a sign of virtue, or should we be finding a way to be changed to enjoy our duties? At some point we have to begin to believe and apply all this stuff in the scriptures, if we want to see actual progress inside and outside ourselves.
What follows the “unless?”
“…unless he yields to the enticing of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord…” This is no call to increase our numbers, work harder, put on a show, be more frenetic or fanatical or judgmental in our observances, pretend that we enjoy stuff we hate, etc., because none of those things have the power to change our natures significantly. We are not invited to scuff our feet on the carpet to make electricity; we are invited to put up our lightning rods and access greater power.
Changed First, Then Greatness Follows
There is an inextricable connection between accessing this power, and our internal attitude, humility: “…and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit…” These words sicken our modern ears. Humility is not the American way, as Elder Holland noted. Yet this unpleasant virtue is a key that opens the door—that activates heaven’s power in us. Instead of increasing our output, the invitation is to be more and more humble. We can increase our exertion without any significant change in our natures; Laman and Lemuel did everything they were told to do.
Nephi experienced a change of nature by the Lord before he began his journey, and he cites that as the main difference between himself and Laman and Lemuel: “…I did cry unto the Lord; and behold he did visit me, and did soften my heart that I did believe all the words which had been spoken by my father; wherefore, I did not rebel against him like unto my brothers.
“…Blessed art thou, Nephi, because of thy faith, for thou hast sought me diligently, with lowliness of heart” (1Ne. 2:16, 19). His humility enabled him to be born again, changed from his carnal and fallen state to a state of righteousness, having no more disposition to do evil, but to do good continually. He offered his whole self to the Lord, and then the Lord changed him. Nephi experienced this mighty change of heart BEFORE his journey began.
Suited Up First
We are so caught up in the romance of upward struggles the Lord demands of us that we forget that we need to be suited up by Him, changed by Him, and prepared to tackle our duties successfully. (Adam and Eve received their clothes from the Lord before they left the Garden to face the difficult fallen world.)
The natural man believes in what his physical senses confirm and report to him after experimentation. We tend to hear only a call to work-work-work harder when we hear Church leaders or read the scriptures because miraculous intervention is outside of the boundaries of what the natural man will accept. We cannot bottle, buy, or sell a change of heart; we cannot prove that divine intervention enables us to resist temptations; and who wants to be humble enough to enjoy these things, anyway? We can just work harder and feign substitute versions without being humble.
Eventually, anything of this world that we rely on will break down, fail, malfunction, and leave us stranded. We cannot successfully perform the Lord’s work by relying on the arm of the flesh. Other sources cease to make us whole at some point, and this rock-bottom state is exactly where most of us discover the power of God, because it is the moment we let go of our own wisdom and strength, and decide to trust the Lord. When our humility increases, we qualify for spiritual rebirth: “And whoso cometh unto me with a broken heart and a contrite spirit, him will I baptize with fire and with the Holy Ghost…” (3Ne. 9:20).
Again: “I give unto men weakness that they may be humble…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).
Does our obedience play a role? When it grows out of that humility, or increases it, yes, it will.
It is easy to forget that the point of all these commandments and assignments is salvation for us and others. They are not ends unto themselves; sanctified, resurrected souls united as eternal families are the final products of this life, not clean meeting houses, Temples, full pantries, or astonishing numbers that can be graphed on charts.
To work ourselves into exhaustion obeying the Lord’s commandments without experiencing spiritual rebirth first is like a child, eager to help Mom, taking something out of the oven without protective mitts and burning himself. He does not understand that his welfare is more important to Mom than preventing burnt cookies. He might even think He is brave or loyal because he burned himself for Mom, but is it really what she wants? Proper use of some protective gear will enable him to help Mom and prevent injury, and both ends are served.
Children are not called to put their hands into the oven unprotected; we are called to work for the Lord after some preparation, a change in our natures. Those who become tired of the Church are probably thinking that Father is mean because He seems to be asking us to burn ourselves regularly; really, we are to suit up first through a change of heart, and THEN do all our assignments. Then they will hold more joy, and less pain, and we will not look to the world as much for consolation.
Spiritual rebirth enables us to do our duties well, without getting grouchy or emotionally fatigued. The prerequisites are deep humility and faith. Then we can be suited up properly. Externals, even important ones, can distract from this important internal effort, to have faith and be more humble.
Spiritual rebirth enables us to do our duties well, without getting grouchy or emotionally fatigued. The prerequisites are deep humility and faith. Then we can be suited up properly. Externals, even important ones, can distract from this important internal effort, to have faith and be more humble.
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
Nametag
“Take upon you the name of Christ…
“And as many as repent and are baptized in my name, which is Jesus Christ, and endure to the end, the same shall be saved.
“Behold, Jesus Christ is the name which is given of the Father, and there is none other name given whereby man can be saved;
“Wherefore, all men must take upon them the name which is given of the Father, for in that name shall they be called at the last day;
“Wherefore, if they know not the name by which they are called, they cannot have place in the kingdom of my Father” (D&C 18:21-25).
This invitation is repeated in numerous places throughout the scriptures; repent, have faith in Christ, and take His name upon ourselves. What does it mean to take His name upon ourselves?
A Nametag Parable
Imagine you are invited to a party at a mansion. There is a gate leading into the gardens where people are mingling. At the gate, the host meets you, and hands you a nametag. You expect to read your own name, but instead you see the name of the host on the sticker. You protest that this is not your actual name, but the host explains that to enter his party in his garden on his grounds at his mansion, guests must all be called by his name. You shrug your shoulders and comply; it’s just a paper sticker on your lapel, a small admittance fee. You walk through the gate into the garden with the wrong name on your HELLO, MY NAME IS __________ sticker.
A butler calls you by the host’s name, and asks if you would like anything. This amuses you; you mention hunger and thirst; the butler calls forth an army of servants carrying silver platters covered with sumptuous foods, as well as dozens of silver pitchers and glass bottles containing every beverage imaginable. This delights you; you ask for a place to sit. A large banquet table is furnished with a plush chair you worry about spilling food on. You pursue the meal with vigor, determined to sample everything, though you know that you could not possibly eat everything on the table.
You complain of a stiff neck to the butler. He summons a servant who begins setting up a massage table. You begin to discuss your faltering automobile; the butler hands you a set of keys to a sports car. You mention longing to travel; the butler arranges plans for a flight to an island. You mention your dingy studio apartment; the butler assures you that there are multiple mansions and summer homes in beautiful locations around the country where you could reside for any amount of time.
Bewildered by these extravagant party favors, you ask why the butler and the servants are doing all this. The butler tells you it is because the wealthy host who invited you to feast at his mansion had given instructions to all his employees to treat you as though you were he. You inquire how long this special treatment will go on, and you are informed: as long as that nametag is in place.
The host put his name on you when you entered at the gate, that little nametag, and told employees to treat you accordingly. Your hand involuntarily touches the tiny, cheap, weightless piece of paper stuck to your lapel, and you worry that something will smudge or tear or otherwise remove this now-coveted possession. Your host appears, and you thank him for his beneficence. Still bewildered by this indulgent generosity, you ask what conditions he has for his kindness.
“Follow my lead, my specific instructions, when I give them, continue pretending to be me by acting the way I act and becoming more like me all the time, and you can continue to borrow my name and my privileges.” You quickly ask where to sign in order to formalize this new arrangement.
Caution
This parable is fairly transparent. Alas, we are not as eager to take the name of Christ upon ourselves as we would be to wear the host’s nametag in this story. After years of enjoying such lavish privileges, though, we could imagine taking that generosity for granted; something similar happens in the Church. We become careless about the name of Christ.
The scriptures make it sound like we will have to impersonate Jesus Christ in order to enter heaven. His name, his countenance, his heart, must all become ours in order to enter.
“Behold, I am from above…
“…I am…Jesus Christ.
“Wherefore, let all men beware how they take my name in their lips—
“For…many there be who…use the name of the Lord, and use it in vain, having not authority.
“Remember that that which cometh from above is sacred, and must be spoken with care, and by constraint of the Spirit; and in this there is no condemnation, and ye receive the Spirit through prayer; wherefore, without this there remaineth condemnation” (D&C 63:59-62, 64). It is having the Spirit direct our words that makes it alright to speak the Lord’s name and that keeps us from violating the commandment, “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain,” when we speak it.
Selling Our Nametags
There are other ways to take His name in vain than speaking it casually.
Jesus appeared to His Nephite Apostles when they prayed to know what to call the Church He had established among them, and He responded:
“Have they not read the scriptures, which say ye must take upon you the name of Christ, which is my name? For by this name shall ye be called at the last day;
“And whoso taketh upon him my name, and endureth to the end, the same shall be saved at the last day.
“Therefore, whatsoever ye shall do, ye shall do it in my name; therefore ye shall call the church in my name; and ye shall call upon the Father in my name that he will bless the church for my sake.
“…if it be called in my name then it is my church, if…they are built upon my gospel” (3Ne. 27:5-8).
Then He prophesies to these same disciples: “But behold, it sorroweth me because of the fourth generation from this generation, for they are led away captive by him even as was the son of perdition; for they will sell me for silver and for gold, and for that which moth doth corrupt and which thieves can break through and steal” (v. 32). Priestcrafts led to their destruction.
Companies and private persons will do battle in court to claim exclusive rights to brand names, logos, slogans, mottos, trademarks, and other symbols and emblems. Penalties can be huge when a company steals another person’s intellectual property and uses it for their own purposes. What will be the cost if we monetize the name of Jesus Christ, “sell” Him to get rich? This must be another form of taking His name in vain.
Artists, authors, speakers, and anyone else who promotes anything having to do with Jesus Christ and His gospel should check closely to make certain that the Spirit approves of their actions. As D&C 63 reminds us, only the Spirit gives “authority,” and we are supposed to speak by “constraint of the Spirit” when we share the gospel with others.
“…by the Spirit ye are justified…” the Lord tells Father Adam (Moses 6:60).
Imitating Him
Why do we close all our sermons “in the name of Jesus Christ?”
This dates back to the beginning. Adam was sacrificing sheep without knowing why.
“And after many days an angel of the Lord appeared unto Adam, saying: Why dost thou offer sacrifices unto the Lord? And Adam said unto him: I know not, save the Lord commanded me.
“And then the angel spake, saying: This thing is a similitude of the sacrifice of the Only Begotten of the Father, which is full of grace and truth.
“Wherefore, thou shalt do all that thou doest in the name of the Son, and thou shalt repent and call upon God in the name of the Son forever more” (Moses 5:6-8).
The sudden mention of the name of Jesus Christ in this passage seems like a non-sequitur at first, unless we have a little bit of background about animal sacrifice.
Before a sheep was offered as a sacrifice, the one sacrificing it to atone for his sins would place his own hands on the animal’s head. This was not simply symbolic of him wiping his grimy sins onto this innocent animal; it represented trading identities with it. Remember our little parable about the rich host lending us a nametag? If the host in that story had worn his guests’ nametags, and adopted their poverty, debt, and mediocre living conditions, it would have mirrored reality better.
Jesus took our names, our debts, and the subsequent penalties, onto Himself in Gethsemane and on the Cross. He suffered in our place, and analogies explaining this abound in scripture and modern talks. Seldom do we mention that taking His name upon ourselves is the corollary to that suffering—that when we take His name we get to enjoy His portion of the Spirit, and all the peace and power that entails—borrowing His innocence and joy and freedom from sin is our end of the bargain. These are unlike the physical treasures mentioned in the parable; we cannot buy or sell them; they are so portable that we can carry them with us when we die. But O, how the world is yearning for peace, love, joy, contentment, meaning, knowledge, honorable identity, and loving interaction with God!
It is no digression for the angel to talk to Adam about doing all things “in the name of the Son,” because trading identities with the innocent sheep was part of the sacrifices. We speak in church, perform ordinances, and should be living our whole lives so that at any moment, we might accurately state that we are acting “in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”
Speaking Well
The Jews became so paranoid about breaking the third commandment that the name of Jehovah becaem unspeakable for the faithful. We Christians tend to be more casual about His name, hanging out at the other end of the spectrum. How do we speak it properly?
“Therefore, verily I say unto you, lift up your voices unto this people; speak the thoughts that I shall put into your hearts, and you shall not be confounded before men;
“For it shall be given you in the very hour, yea, in the very moment, what ye shall say.
“But a commandment I give unto you, that ye shall declare whatsoever thing ye declare in my name, in solemnity of heart, in the spirit of meekness, in all things.
“And I give unto you this promise, that inasmuch as ye do this the Holy Ghost shall be shed forth in bearing record unto all things whatsoever ye shall say” (D&C 100:5-8).
The Spirit and revelation are like a rudder, the invisible force that steers our words when we speak, teach, or generally share the gospel. Meek hearts and behavior, the tone of our words, is a sign of authentically representing the Lord. Inspired words, spoken solemnly and meekly, are certified by the Holy Ghost to an audience. This kind of testimony may truly be spoken “in the name of Jesus Christ,” for it is what He would be saying if He were in our place.
This attitude of solemn humility is a touchstone we can use to determine whether any messenger is speaking on behalf of Jesus:
“Wherefore he that prayeth, whose spirit is contrite, the same is accepted of me if he obey mine ordinances.
“He that speaketh, whose spirit is contrite, whose language is meek and edifieth, the same is of God if he obey mine ordinances.
“And again, he that trembleth under my power shall be made strong, and shall bring forth fruits of praise and wisdom, according to the revelations and truths which I have given you.
“And again, he that is overcome and bringeth not forth fruits, even according to this pattern, is not of me” (D&C 52:15-18).
The admonition to be solemn and humble is is not an invitation to completely lose sight of our own goofiness; if we cannot smile about anything, something is malfunctioning (“long-faced hypocrites” was a catchphrase of the Prophet Joseph to describe pious accusers insisting that sour expressions were the essence of godliness. We take the Lord seriously; ourselves, not as much). But at some point we have to be humble and solemn when we take the Lord’s name upon ourselves, or in our lips, or speak in His name, in part because that is how He is, and because His name is our only means of entry into heaven. Eternity hinges on it.
We should jealously guard that little nametag.
“And as many as repent and are baptized in my name, which is Jesus Christ, and endure to the end, the same shall be saved.
“Behold, Jesus Christ is the name which is given of the Father, and there is none other name given whereby man can be saved;
“Wherefore, all men must take upon them the name which is given of the Father, for in that name shall they be called at the last day;
“Wherefore, if they know not the name by which they are called, they cannot have place in the kingdom of my Father” (D&C 18:21-25).
This invitation is repeated in numerous places throughout the scriptures; repent, have faith in Christ, and take His name upon ourselves. What does it mean to take His name upon ourselves?
A Nametag Parable
Imagine you are invited to a party at a mansion. There is a gate leading into the gardens where people are mingling. At the gate, the host meets you, and hands you a nametag. You expect to read your own name, but instead you see the name of the host on the sticker. You protest that this is not your actual name, but the host explains that to enter his party in his garden on his grounds at his mansion, guests must all be called by his name. You shrug your shoulders and comply; it’s just a paper sticker on your lapel, a small admittance fee. You walk through the gate into the garden with the wrong name on your HELLO, MY NAME IS __________ sticker.
A butler calls you by the host’s name, and asks if you would like anything. This amuses you; you mention hunger and thirst; the butler calls forth an army of servants carrying silver platters covered with sumptuous foods, as well as dozens of silver pitchers and glass bottles containing every beverage imaginable. This delights you; you ask for a place to sit. A large banquet table is furnished with a plush chair you worry about spilling food on. You pursue the meal with vigor, determined to sample everything, though you know that you could not possibly eat everything on the table.
You complain of a stiff neck to the butler. He summons a servant who begins setting up a massage table. You begin to discuss your faltering automobile; the butler hands you a set of keys to a sports car. You mention longing to travel; the butler arranges plans for a flight to an island. You mention your dingy studio apartment; the butler assures you that there are multiple mansions and summer homes in beautiful locations around the country where you could reside for any amount of time.
Bewildered by these extravagant party favors, you ask why the butler and the servants are doing all this. The butler tells you it is because the wealthy host who invited you to feast at his mansion had given instructions to all his employees to treat you as though you were he. You inquire how long this special treatment will go on, and you are informed: as long as that nametag is in place.
The host put his name on you when you entered at the gate, that little nametag, and told employees to treat you accordingly. Your hand involuntarily touches the tiny, cheap, weightless piece of paper stuck to your lapel, and you worry that something will smudge or tear or otherwise remove this now-coveted possession. Your host appears, and you thank him for his beneficence. Still bewildered by this indulgent generosity, you ask what conditions he has for his kindness.
“Follow my lead, my specific instructions, when I give them, continue pretending to be me by acting the way I act and becoming more like me all the time, and you can continue to borrow my name and my privileges.” You quickly ask where to sign in order to formalize this new arrangement.
Caution
This parable is fairly transparent. Alas, we are not as eager to take the name of Christ upon ourselves as we would be to wear the host’s nametag in this story. After years of enjoying such lavish privileges, though, we could imagine taking that generosity for granted; something similar happens in the Church. We become careless about the name of Christ.
The scriptures make it sound like we will have to impersonate Jesus Christ in order to enter heaven. His name, his countenance, his heart, must all become ours in order to enter.
“Behold, I am from above…
“…I am…Jesus Christ.
“Wherefore, let all men beware how they take my name in their lips—
“For…many there be who…use the name of the Lord, and use it in vain, having not authority.
“Remember that that which cometh from above is sacred, and must be spoken with care, and by constraint of the Spirit; and in this there is no condemnation, and ye receive the Spirit through prayer; wherefore, without this there remaineth condemnation” (D&C 63:59-62, 64). It is having the Spirit direct our words that makes it alright to speak the Lord’s name and that keeps us from violating the commandment, “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain,” when we speak it.
Selling Our Nametags
There are other ways to take His name in vain than speaking it casually.
Jesus appeared to His Nephite Apostles when they prayed to know what to call the Church He had established among them, and He responded:
“Have they not read the scriptures, which say ye must take upon you the name of Christ, which is my name? For by this name shall ye be called at the last day;
“And whoso taketh upon him my name, and endureth to the end, the same shall be saved at the last day.
“Therefore, whatsoever ye shall do, ye shall do it in my name; therefore ye shall call the church in my name; and ye shall call upon the Father in my name that he will bless the church for my sake.
“…if it be called in my name then it is my church, if…they are built upon my gospel” (3Ne. 27:5-8).
Then He prophesies to these same disciples: “But behold, it sorroweth me because of the fourth generation from this generation, for they are led away captive by him even as was the son of perdition; for they will sell me for silver and for gold, and for that which moth doth corrupt and which thieves can break through and steal” (v. 32). Priestcrafts led to their destruction.
Companies and private persons will do battle in court to claim exclusive rights to brand names, logos, slogans, mottos, trademarks, and other symbols and emblems. Penalties can be huge when a company steals another person’s intellectual property and uses it for their own purposes. What will be the cost if we monetize the name of Jesus Christ, “sell” Him to get rich? This must be another form of taking His name in vain.
Artists, authors, speakers, and anyone else who promotes anything having to do with Jesus Christ and His gospel should check closely to make certain that the Spirit approves of their actions. As D&C 63 reminds us, only the Spirit gives “authority,” and we are supposed to speak by “constraint of the Spirit” when we share the gospel with others.
“…by the Spirit ye are justified…” the Lord tells Father Adam (Moses 6:60).
Imitating Him
Why do we close all our sermons “in the name of Jesus Christ?”
This dates back to the beginning. Adam was sacrificing sheep without knowing why.
“And after many days an angel of the Lord appeared unto Adam, saying: Why dost thou offer sacrifices unto the Lord? And Adam said unto him: I know not, save the Lord commanded me.
“And then the angel spake, saying: This thing is a similitude of the sacrifice of the Only Begotten of the Father, which is full of grace and truth.
“Wherefore, thou shalt do all that thou doest in the name of the Son, and thou shalt repent and call upon God in the name of the Son forever more” (Moses 5:6-8).
The sudden mention of the name of Jesus Christ in this passage seems like a non-sequitur at first, unless we have a little bit of background about animal sacrifice.
Before a sheep was offered as a sacrifice, the one sacrificing it to atone for his sins would place his own hands on the animal’s head. This was not simply symbolic of him wiping his grimy sins onto this innocent animal; it represented trading identities with it. Remember our little parable about the rich host lending us a nametag? If the host in that story had worn his guests’ nametags, and adopted their poverty, debt, and mediocre living conditions, it would have mirrored reality better.
Jesus took our names, our debts, and the subsequent penalties, onto Himself in Gethsemane and on the Cross. He suffered in our place, and analogies explaining this abound in scripture and modern talks. Seldom do we mention that taking His name upon ourselves is the corollary to that suffering—that when we take His name we get to enjoy His portion of the Spirit, and all the peace and power that entails—borrowing His innocence and joy and freedom from sin is our end of the bargain. These are unlike the physical treasures mentioned in the parable; we cannot buy or sell them; they are so portable that we can carry them with us when we die. But O, how the world is yearning for peace, love, joy, contentment, meaning, knowledge, honorable identity, and loving interaction with God!
It is no digression for the angel to talk to Adam about doing all things “in the name of the Son,” because trading identities with the innocent sheep was part of the sacrifices. We speak in church, perform ordinances, and should be living our whole lives so that at any moment, we might accurately state that we are acting “in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”
Speaking Well
The Jews became so paranoid about breaking the third commandment that the name of Jehovah becaem unspeakable for the faithful. We Christians tend to be more casual about His name, hanging out at the other end of the spectrum. How do we speak it properly?
“Therefore, verily I say unto you, lift up your voices unto this people; speak the thoughts that I shall put into your hearts, and you shall not be confounded before men;
“For it shall be given you in the very hour, yea, in the very moment, what ye shall say.
“But a commandment I give unto you, that ye shall declare whatsoever thing ye declare in my name, in solemnity of heart, in the spirit of meekness, in all things.
“And I give unto you this promise, that inasmuch as ye do this the Holy Ghost shall be shed forth in bearing record unto all things whatsoever ye shall say” (D&C 100:5-8).
The Spirit and revelation are like a rudder, the invisible force that steers our words when we speak, teach, or generally share the gospel. Meek hearts and behavior, the tone of our words, is a sign of authentically representing the Lord. Inspired words, spoken solemnly and meekly, are certified by the Holy Ghost to an audience. This kind of testimony may truly be spoken “in the name of Jesus Christ,” for it is what He would be saying if He were in our place.
This attitude of solemn humility is a touchstone we can use to determine whether any messenger is speaking on behalf of Jesus:
“Wherefore he that prayeth, whose spirit is contrite, the same is accepted of me if he obey mine ordinances.
“He that speaketh, whose spirit is contrite, whose language is meek and edifieth, the same is of God if he obey mine ordinances.
“And again, he that trembleth under my power shall be made strong, and shall bring forth fruits of praise and wisdom, according to the revelations and truths which I have given you.
“And again, he that is overcome and bringeth not forth fruits, even according to this pattern, is not of me” (D&C 52:15-18).
The admonition to be solemn and humble is is not an invitation to completely lose sight of our own goofiness; if we cannot smile about anything, something is malfunctioning (“long-faced hypocrites” was a catchphrase of the Prophet Joseph to describe pious accusers insisting that sour expressions were the essence of godliness. We take the Lord seriously; ourselves, not as much). But at some point we have to be humble and solemn when we take the Lord’s name upon ourselves, or in our lips, or speak in His name, in part because that is how He is, and because His name is our only means of entry into heaven. Eternity hinges on it.
We should jealously guard that little nametag.
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