As a missionary, I was taught to concentrate the majority of my efforts on methods that were "more effective," and spend less time on those that are "less effective." Knocking on doors is a less effective way of finding people to teach, though it can work. Asking for, and receiving, referrals from members is a more effective way of finding people to teach.
If we are commanded to meet together once a week to partake of the sacrament, this ordinance must be a "more effective" way of bringing about our immortality and eternal life, or why else do it so often?
Repetition is a double-edged sword—it can help us remember, or render what we repeat meaningless. Asking questions about the ordinance of the sacrament can undo the mechanical or perfunctory observance of this ordinance we slip into, and deepen our understanding. I found a note on the ground years ago, apparently passed between two members who were partaking of the sacrament. The note essentially asked why the promised blessing with the bread is that we "may always have his Spirit to be with [us]," while the promise with the water is simply that we "may have his Spirit to be with [us]."
That is a great question to answer later, and elsewhere.
I want to point out here that everything we commit to in the sacrament has a matching action by Jesus Christ. In the prayer on the bread, we signify our willingness to do three things:
"O God, the Eternal Father, we ask thee in the name of thy Son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this bread to the souls of all those who partake of it, that they may eat in remembrance of the body of thy Son, and witness unto thee, O God, the Eternal Father, that they are willing to (1) take upon them the name of thy Son, and (2) always remember him and (3) keep his commandments which he has given them; that they may always have his Spirit to be with them. Amen."
There is a difference between being willing to do something, and committing or promising to do something. In the prayer on the water, we actually promise to do something:
"O God, the Eternal Father, we ask thee in the name of thy Son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this water to the souls of all those who drink of it, that they may do it in remembrance of the blood of thy Son, which was shed for them; that they may witness unto thee, O God, the Eternal Father, that they do always remember him, that they may have his Spirit to be with them. Amen."
Elder Bednar surprised the many when he pointed out that we do not actually take the name of Christ upon ourselves when we partake of the sacrament; that happens in the Temple. Rather, we demonstrate by partaking of the sacrament that we are willing to take his name upon ourselves.
There is a corresponding act on His part as well. When we take the name of Christ upon ourselves, we become eligible to inherit everything He merited—"all that my Father hath" (D&C 84:38). He took our names, in other words, our reputations and guilt, upon Himself when He suffered and died for our sins. "But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed" (Isa. 53:5).
We witness that we will always remember Him. Jesus speaks through Isaiah, and tells us, "Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee. Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me" (Isa. 49:15-16). He constantly remembers us.
We show our willingness to keep His commandments which He has given to us. You might suppose this is surely a one way street. But John records what Jesus taught at the very first sacrament meeting—the last supper: "And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If ye shall ask any thing in my name, I will do it" (John 14:13-14). God will give us any good thing we ask of Him.
Jesus has done, or will actually do, everything for us that He asks us to do for Him. The sacrament prayers commit us to be willing to do certain things; Jesus will actually do them for us when we qualify to receive them.
As far as contractual language goes, a lawyer might tell you that the use of the word "willing" in the prayer on the bread makes the conditions of this contract as open as a sieve. If behavior were the main focus of the covenant, this would be true. When we sign mortal contracts, they pertain mainly to commitments to act, to do certain things, or face penalties. The banker does not care whether you submit your cash joyfully or grudgingly, as long as you pay your debt by the deadline.
But the word "willing" in the prayer on the bread shifts the focus from our behavior to our attitude—are we willing to do those things? "Willing" has few synonyms. "Ready," "eager," "prepared," "voluntary," "disposed," "consenting," "inclined," all strike near the meaning of the word, but do not quite capture its essence. "...with cheerful readiness" is a summary description, not a synonym. Why are we granted to "always have" the Spirit with us for merely being eager, ready, for wanting to serve?
Consider the contrast between Nephi on the one hand, and Laman and Lemuel on the other. Laman and Lemuel's behavior eventually aligned with what they were asked to do, though they had to be electrocuted like lab rats to elicit the proper response. They left their home at Jerusalem, went back for the plates, went back for the daughters of Ishmael, crossed the desert, helped Nephi build a boat, crossed the ocean, and finally arrived at the promised land. Nephi also did all those things. Why do we think of Laman and Lemuel as scoundrels? Because they were unwilling participants. They rebelled, but we all do that—we all misbehave at some point, and hopefully correct our course in the end. But Laman and Lemuel were internally rebellious in the end, the opposite of willing. They moaned and complained the whole way, dragging their feet and doubting. Nephi chided them for being "hard in their hearts, and blind in their minds" (1Ne. 7:8).
Their internal state disqualified them from enjoying the Spirit, even though they ultimately obeyed all the orders they received. We often quote 1Ne. 3:7, and rightly so. We can expect divine assistance to accomplish what He commands us to do. But we often neglect 1Ne. 3:6: "Therefore go, my son, and thou shalt be favored of the Lord, because thou hast not murmured." Attitude counts big with the Lord.
The more I learn, the more it seems that the external world is basically already how God wants it, the way He created it. Repentance does involve trying to change this outer world, but that is merely the tip of the iceberg. The vast majority of what we are supposed to be changing is internal—our hearts and minds, our attitudes. It is the internal mess that is our primary responsibility.
That is not to say behavior is unimportant. All sins will impede spiritual progress. But there is a difference between tripping over our shoelaces and open rebellion. We may be out of the open rebellion phase of breaking the Ten Commandments, but what about that middle phase? Our imperfect minds and weak bodies are always obstacles to perfect observance of commandments, even when we try.
The Gospel seems to accommodate our inevitable stumbling with provision made for our weakness. When the best we can do falls short, if we are willing we can still "always" enjoy having "his Spirit" to be with us.
