Grace Works Robert L. Millet

After All We Can Do
Grace Works
Robert Millet
© 2003 Robert L. Millet.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without
permission in writing from the publisher, Deseret Book Company (permissions@deseretbook.com),
P.O. Box 30178, Salt Lake City Utah 84130. This work is not an official publication of The Church
of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The views expressed herein are the responsibility of the author
and do not necessarily represent the position of the Church or of Deseret Book. Deseret Book is a
registered trademark of Deseret Book Company.
Millet,
Robert L.
Grace
works / Robert L. Millet.
p. cm.
Includes
bibliographical references and index.
ISBN
1-57008-906-X (alk. paper)
1. Christian
life—Mormon authors.
2. Church of Jesus Christ of

Latter-day Saints—Doctrines. I. Title.
BX8656
.M542 2003
234—dc21 2002154964
Printed
in the United States of America
Publishers Printing, Salt Lake City, Utah 72076-7033

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Table of Contents
Preface
Acknowledgments
Too Good to Be True
What's in a Word?
Our Plight
Our Hope
His Righteousness
His Enabling Power
The Delicate Balance
After All, What Can We Do?
Sources
Preface
A prominent Church leader mentioned to me that while on

a flight
across the country, he became involved in a conversation with a
well-
known Christian pastor. After some initial remarks, the other
man (not of
our faith) said essentially, “I want you to know that many of us in
the
religious world are thrilled with the changes that are taking place within
Mormonism.”
“What
kinds of changes do you mean?”
“You
know,” he replied, “your growing acceptance in recent years of
Jesus Christ,
and your willingness to speak and teach of his mercy and
grace.”
The
Church leader then asked me, “Do you know how nervous and
uncomfortable such a
comment makes me and some of my brethren?”
My
silence signaled my answer.
He
commented that of course we accept and rely upon the grace of the
Savior. We
have always done so. That’s nothing new. Of course we’re
Christian. But there
are some doctrinal differences between our beliefs and
those of our brothers
and sisters of other Christian faiths, and we must
never, in an effort to build
bridges of understanding or friendship, minimize
our differences. Our strength
lies in our distinctiveness.
He then
encouraged me to continue to teach the Atonement, to
emphasize the centrality
of our Lord’s mercy and grace, but to do so with
balance, always pointing out
the vital place of works of righteousness and
the need for them.
This
book is an effort to be true to that charge. I have written other
books and
several articles on the subject of grace and works, but not until
now have I
attempted to synthesize and distil our teachings on faith, grace,
works, and
salvation in a manner that is at once plain and clear and
personally
applicable. Not only do I desire to be understood but I have a
deep and earnest
hope that I will not be misunderstood.
The
theological continuum stretches from those who believe they are
saved by grace
alone, without ordinances (sacraments) or works of any
kind, to those who
believe in a kind of works righteousness that seems to
bespeak a need to save
themselves through their own unaided efforts. The
apparent doctrinal difficulty
is certainly nothing new. The apostles Paul and
James faced it in their day,
and I believe both men would have concluded,
as should we, that grace versus
works is a false dichotomy. “Are we saved
by grace or by works?” is the wrong
question. Better questions are “In
whom do I trust? Upon whom do I rely? What
does it mean to have saving
faith in Jesus Christ?”
The Book of Mormon teaches
plainly the nature of fallen man and the
absolute necessity for the cleansing
and redeeming power of the blood of
Christ. Having come alive to the principles
of salvation found in that
keystone scripture, Latter-day Saints are
able to read the Bible, especially
the writings of the apostle Paul, with new
eyes. We discern and feel the
power of his teachings, teachings that came by
the same spirit of revelation
that inspired Lehi and Jacob and Benjamin and
Alma and Moroni. Thus, as
a people we have become more and more aware of the burden
of all
scripture, that “salvation was, and is, and is to come, in and through
the
atoning blood of Christ, the Lord Omnipotent” (Mosiah 3:18) and that
Christ
“hath abolished death, and hath brought life and immortality to light
through
the gospel” (2 Timothy 1:10).
Acknowledgments
I am
indebted to many persons for their contributions in the
preparation of this
work.
My students through the years have made it
necessary for me to
understand and discuss the doctrine of Christ in clear and
unmistakable
terms. My colleagues at Brigham Young University and in the
broader
Church Educational System have pushed me to think and rethink and pray
and study with real intent in order to represent accurately and truly the
meaning of scripture, both ancient and modern. Many of my Evangelical
Christian
friends have rendered an especially valuable service: they have
challenged me
to know my religion well enough to articulate my faith in the
restored gospel.
As she has for many years now, my long-time
friend and assistant, Lori
Soza, undertook the daunting task of helping to
prepare the manuscript for
publication. My dear friend Suzanne Brady, senior
editor at Deseret Book
Company, has simply made this a better book. Her keen
editorial eye and
her sensitivity to my writing style have combined to assist
me to
communicate clearly what I feel so deeply.
Finally, although this book
would not have been possible without the
contributions of these individuals and
many others, I alone am responsible
for the conclusions drawn from the evidence
cited. I have sought to be true
to the teachings of scripture and modern
prophets, but this work is a private
endeavor that does not presume to speak
for either Brigham Young
University or The Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints.
Prologue
Too Good to Be True
Not long ago, a student sat in my

office and asked, “What do you wish
you had understood when you were my age?”
I
quickly thought back over the past thirty years and answered, “I wish
I had
understood the importance of eating and exercising properly.” Having
suffered a
heart attack during the preceding year, I have to confess that the
matter of
physical health stood out prominently in my mind.
“That’s
good to know,” the student responded, “but what I meant was,
What do you wish
you had understood in the scriptures, in the gospel, when
you were twenty-five
years old?”
Now that
was a different question. After a few moments of reflection, I
replied, “I
really wish I had understood more about the Atonement.” I
thought for another
moment and added, “I think if I had understood the
proper relationship between
grace and works, I would have lived my life a
little differently.” We talked
for about half an hour about what I meant.
Since
that conversation, I have pondered the young student’s question
many times. I really don’t have any
serious regrets in my life, and there
aren’t many things I would have done differently
if I had it all to do over.
Oh, I’ve been foolish and unkind and insensitive a
few thousand times, but
God has been patient with me while I have wrestled with
becoming a
human being. The Lord has been good to me, and my life has been rich
and
rewarding. In fact, I have commented to my wife, Shauna, that if at the
time
of my heart attack the Lord had seen fit to take me in death, other than
the
fact that I would have hated to leave my family for a season, I would have
had no regrets. Life has been good. We have been blessed and prospered
well
beyond what we deserve.
But if I
had better understood the Fall and its effect upon our lives, I
would surely
have better understood the Atonement. Further, if I had better
understood the
Savior’s atonement, if I had been more scripturally literate,
especially in
regard to the Book of Mormon, I would have discovered—by
study as well as
by experience—the lifting and liberating powers of Christ,
the vital
place of his mercy and grace. I sincerely believe I would have
trusted in the
Lord earlier, turned to him more regularly, committed my life
more fully to his
care, and thus avoided many of the frustrations and
disappointments that
inevitably follow from trying to do it all oneself.
If I had
understood the Atonement at age twenty-five as I understood it
at age
fifty-five, all other things in the plan of salvation would have been
clearer and more relevant. Why? Because the Atonement is central,
fundamental,
and foundational: it provides meaning and purpose for every
other doctrine and
every covenant and ordinance. It is the lens through
which we view every
principle, precept, and practice in the Church. If I
might adapt the words of
C. S. Lewis slightly, I believe in and cherish
Christ “as I believe that the
Sun has risen, not only because I see it, but
because by it I see everything
else.”1
“Truth,
glorious truth, proclaims there is . . . a Mediator,” Elder Boyd
K.
Packer testified. “Through Him mercy can be fully extended to each of
us
without offending the eternal law of justice.” Now note these words.
“This
truth is the very root of Christian doctrine. You may know much
about the
gospel as it branches out from there, but if you only know the
branches and
those branches do not touch that root, if they have been cut
free from that
truth, there will be no life nor substance nor redemption in
them.”2
Many
years ago a colleague and I were conversing about the gospel,
about life here
and life hereafter. I made the rather offhand comment, one
that reflected my
momentary shallowness, “I just want to get hereafter what
I deserve.” My friend
leaned forward, looked me sternly in the eye, and
responded, “Bob, you had
better pray to God that you never get what you
deserve!”
He was
absolutely right, of course. The message of the gospel of Jesus
Christ is not
at all about getting what we deserve. Rather, it is about mercy
and grace. In a
world that often invokes rules of fairness, Christ’s offer
strikes us as
strange at best. The mercy of God is staggering. Truly, “I stand
all amazed at
the love Jesus offers me.”3
There is
no better illustration of the tender mercy of an infinitely
patient God than
the parable of the prodigal son. New Testament scholar
Richard Rice suggested
that if the parables of the lost sheep and the lost
coin “show us how much like
our feelings God’s feelings are, the last one
[in Luke 15, the parable of the
prodigal son] discloses a vast difference
between them. The wayward son
deserves to be rejected. At the least he
merits a public rebuke. But instead of
humiliating his son, the father
humiliates himself by unceremoniously running
to him—in full view of
curious villagers, no doubt—embracing him,
restoring him instantly to his
honored position in the family and then even
throwing a party to celebrate
his return. There is not a trace of recrimination
or a hint of resentment in his
actions. To rejoice with the return of an
irresponsible, insensitive son, rather
than turn him away or shower him with
reproach, contradicts normal
behavior. It reveals a depth of feeling that
transcends our natural human
emotions.” In very deed, “the joy of the father
mystifies us. It is as
unexpected as it is profound.”4
Philip
Yancey, another writer on the New Testament, observed that “the
gospel is not
at all what we would come up with on our own. I, for one,
would expect to honor
the virtuous over the profligate. I would expect to
have to clean up my act
before even applying for an audience with a Holy
God.” He continued: “Not long
ago I heard from a pastor friend who was
battling with his
fifteen-year-old daughter. He knew she was using birth
control,
and several nights she had not bothered to come home at all. The
parents had
tried various forms of punishment, to no avail. The daughter
lied to them,
deceived them, and found a way to turn the tables on them:
‘It’s your fault for
being so strict!’
“My
friend told me, ‘I remember standing before the plate-glass
window in
my living room, staring out into the darkness, waiting for her to
come home. I
felt such rage. I wanted to be like the father of the Prodigal
Son, yet I was
furious with my daughter for the way she would manipulate
us and twist the
knife to hurt us. And of course, she was hurting herself
more than anyone. I
understood then the passages in the prophets
expressing God’s anger. The people
knew how to wound him, and God
cried out in pain.’
“‘And
yet I must tell you, when my daughter came home that night, or
rather the next
morning, I wanted nothing in the world so much as to take
her in my arms, to
love her, to tell her I wanted the best for her. I was a
helpless, lovesick
father.’
“Now,
when I think about God,” Yancey concluded, “I hold up that
image of the
lovesick father, which is miles away from the stern monarch I
used to envision.
I think of my friend standing in front of the plate-glass
window
gazing achingly into the darkness. I think of Jesus’ depiction of the
Waiting
Father, heartsick, abused, yet wanting above all else to forgive and
begin
anew, to announce with joy, ‘This my son was dead, and is alive
again; he was
lost, and is found.’”5
On the
one hand, we must never take the loving offer of our Heavenly
Father to forgive
his children and welcome them back to fellowship as
license to sin wantonly,
slack off, waste time, or in general do “despite to
the Spirit of grace”
(Hebrews 10:29). As the scriptures attest, mercy cannot
rob justice (Alma
42:25). And yet, on the other hand, we must not “frustrate
the grace of God”
(Galatians 2:21) by spurning, ignoring, or
underappreciating the heavenly gift
of grace. Our God is a divine judge, and
his omniscience and omnipotence allow
him to render righteous judgment
and execute justice. He is also a loving
Father who will do all within his
power to reclaim and save his straying
children.
A
Christian writer not of our faith offered the following story: “A
young man was
arrested for a crime. During the trial all the evidence
needed to determine
this young man’s guilt or innocence was presented.
The evidence was
clear—the judge had no other option but to declare this
young man
guilty.
“The
judge slammed down his gavel and pronounced his decision:
‘Guilty as charged!’
Then he imposed the maximum fine of one million
dollars for punishment.
“But
then something truly amazing happened. The judge slipped off his
robe, stepped
down from his bench, and paid the young man’s fine.
“Why?
Because it turned out that this judge was more than a judge. He
was the young
man’s father. And his love for his son was so great that he
was willing to pay
the penalty for his son’s crime.
“In his
doing so, the punishment for the crime had been executed,
justice had been
served, and yet the young man was free to go. The judge
was both just and
loving. As a just judge, he couldn’t simply dismiss the
crime. Otherwise, the
law would have been compromised. As a loving
father, he paid the penalty so
that his son could go free.”6
Elder
Boyd K. Packer gave us this important insight: “The extension of
mercy will not
be automatic. It will be through covenant with [Christ]. It
will be on His
terms, His generous terms. . . . All mankind can be protected
by the
law of justice, and at once each of us individually may be extended
the
redeeming and healing blessing of mercy.”7
As a
young man, just before leaving on my mission, I read and thought
about the gospel
with a bit of fear and trembling. After spending several
days browsing through
some of the great doctrinal chapters in the Book of
Mormon, I approached my
father with a question. (I should explain that
Dad, who was my bishop at the
time, had grown up in Louisiana as a
member of the Church, had served for many
years as an early-morning
seminary teacher, and was a powerful
preacher of the gospel. People loved
to listen to him because he taught with
conviction and authority. He knew
the principles and doctrines of the gospel
well.) When I asked, “Dad, what
does it mean to be saved by grace?” he stared
at me for a moment and then
said firmly, “We don’t believe in that!”
I
responded, “We don’t believe in it? Why not?”
He said
promptly, “Because the Baptists do!”
That
statement speaks volumes to me now. To some extent, we may
define ourselves and
our beliefs in terms of others and others’ beliefs. Both
my father and I had
grown up in the Bible Belt, surrounded by many noble
and dedicated Christians
who loved the Lord and had given their hearts to
him. Over the years we had
glanced at scores of revivals on television or
heard radio broadcasts in which
the pastor affirmed that salvation comes
“by grace alone.” Knowing as he did
that Latter-day Saints believed in the
necessity of good works, Dad
simply put the matter to rest by stating that
we believed something very
different. And, to some extent, we do. Yet, we
do not travel very far in studying the Bible or the Book of Mormon without
recognizing the
central and saving need to trust in and rely upon the merits
and mercy and
grace of the Holy Messiah. That is a teaching found not in a
few obscure
passages but throughout holy writ. That message is one of the
burdens of
scripture.
Because
the mercy and grace of God are so central to an understanding
and appreciation
of the Atonement, I have focused on them at some length
in this volume. I am
persuaded that to ignore or to misunderstand the
dimension of grace in the
Master’s plan of redemption has both doctrinal
and practical
implications—properly understanding the Atonement affects
what we teach
and believe as well as how we approach life. Thus, this is a
book about grace.
But it is also a book about works. It is, in fact, a book
about how grace
works. It is about the goodness and condescension of a
benevolent God and about
the good works that flow from the heart of an
individual who has truly been
changed by Christ.
President
Gordon B. Hinckley shared his own tender feelings about our
Lord’s atonement:
“I sense in a measure the meaning of His atonement. I
cannot comprehend it all.
It is so vast in its reach and yet so intimate in its
effect that it defies
comprehension. When all is said and done, when all of
history is examined, when
the deepest depths of the human mind have been
explored, there is nothing so
wonderful, so majestic, so tremendous as this
act of grace when the Son of the
Almighty, the prince of His Father’s royal
household, . . . gave His
life in ignominy and pain so that all of the sons and
daughters of God, of all
generations of time, every one of whom must die,
might walk again and live
eternally.”8
Some
things simply matter more than others. Some topics of
discussion, even
intellectually stimulating ones, must take a back seat to
more fundamental
verities. That is the case with what the scriptures call the
doctrine of
Christ, those foundational truths associated with the person and
powers of
Jesus the Messiah. Who he is and what he has done are
paramount and central
issues. All else, however important, is secondary. It
has been my
privilege—and I truly count it such—to teach the gospel for
many
years. I have had the wonderful opportunity to work in the Church
Educational
System, to serve as an instructor in seminary, institute, and
Brigham Young University
religion courses. I have addressed topics
ranging from Apostasy to Zion and
from Zenos to Adam, but nothing has
brought me greater joy than teaching and
testifying of the Savior and his
atonement.
At the
conclusion of a series of lectures on the Atonement at a BYU
Campus Education
Week, a woman shook my hand and said, with tears in
her eyes, “Brother Millet,
it’s just too good to be true!” Indeed, it is. Our
Heavenly Father loves his
children. He loves you, and he loves me. He has
done for us what we could never
do for ourselves. God’s greatest gift—the
gift of salvation or eternal
life (D&C 6:13; 14:7)—has been made available
through God’s greatest
offering—his Blessed and Beloved Son (John 3:16;
D&C 34:3). In the
words of the apostle Paul, our Savior Jesus Christ “hath
abolished death, and
hath brought life and immortality to light through the
gospel” (2 Timothy
1:10). Knowing our profound weakness and our
overwhelming sense of need for
divine assistance, “How shall we escape, if
we neglect so great salvation?”
(Hebrews 2:3).
We need
to understand clearly that there is a war about us, a war for the
souls of all humankind. Satan strives to deceive, to
discourage, to
demoralize. But the leader of the forces of God, the Captain of
our
Salvation, will succeed in his crusade against corruption and sin. And it
is
in the knowledge that good will prevail, that death will be destroyed, and
that the followers of the Master will prevail against all their enemies, that
we find comfort and peace. Truly, “thanks be to God, which giveth us the
victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 15:57).
Notes
^1.
1. Lewis, Weight of Glory, 106.
^2.
2. Packer, Conference Report, April
1977, 80.
^3.
3. “I Stand All Amazed,” Hymns, 1985, no. 193.
^4.
4. Rice, “Biblical Support for a New
Perspective,” in Pinnock, Openness of God,
41–42.
^5.
5. Yancey, What’s So Amazing about
Grace? 54, 56.
^6.
6. George, Grace Stories, 62.
^7.
7. Packer, Conference Report, April
1977, 80.
^8.
8. Hinckley, Teachings of Gordon B.
Hinckley, 28.
I
What’s in a Word?
As we begin our brief study, perhaps it would be well

to define our
terms. When we speak of the Atonement, we mean the divine plan
whereby
fallen, sinful, and finite man is reunited with an exalted, perfect,
and infinite
God. It is the plan by which estranged parties are brought
together, made to
be “at one” again. That at-one-ment comes
about through the matchless
work of God’s Only Begotten Son. As a result of the
fall of Adam and Eve,
spiritual death entered the world; men and women were
separated
spiritually from their God and alienated from things of
righteousness.
“Wherefore, all mankind were in a lost and in a fallen state,
and ever would
be save they should rely on this Redeemer” (1 Nephi 10:6).
In
Hebrew the word translated into English as atone means “to cover.”
Jesus atones for our sins in
that he forgives them and thereby covers them,
as a cloth might cover a table.
Through the blood of Christ, our stains are
removed, erased, blotted out of the
memory of the Omniscient One (D&C
58:42). In addition, the Savior covers
our sins in the sense that he pays the
price, much as we might say to a friend
at a restaurant, “I’ll cover it.”
In Aramaic
and in Arabic the word translated into English as atone
means “to embrace.” Because of
our sins, we are separated from our Holy
Father, but through the mediation of
Jesus we are welcomed, received, and
embraced. Lehi rejoiced that “the Lord
hath redeemed my soul from hell; I
have beheld his glory, and I am encircled
about eternally in the arms of his
love” (2 Nephi 1:15). In our day the Savior
beckons to his people: “Be
faithful and diligent in keeping the commandments of
God, and I will
encircle thee in the arms of my love” (D&C 6:20). Those who
open
themselves to the powers of the Atonement are “clasped in the arms of
Jesus” (Mormon 5:11).
Jesus
Christ is our Redeemer. To redeem is to purchase, to buy back, to
reclaim.
Jehovah, speaking to ancient Israel, said, “Behold, for your
iniquities have ye
sold yourselves” (Isaiah 50:1). “For thus saith the Lord,
Ye have sold
yourselves for nought; and ye shall be redeemed without
money” (Isaiah 52:3).
Our
Divine Redeemer calls out to each of us: “Come, my brethren,
every one that
thirsteth, come ye to the waters; and he that hath no money,
come buy and eat;
yea, come buy wine and milk without money and
without price. Wherefore, do not
spend money for that which is of no
worth, nor your labor for that which cannot
satisfy. Hearken diligently unto
me, and remember the words which I have
spoken; and come unto the Holy
One of Israel, and feast upon that which
perisheth not, neither can be
corrupted, and let your soul delight in fatness”
(2 Nephi 9:50–51; compare
Isaiah 55:1–2).
Redemption
is a miracle. We are redeemed from our sins through the
miracle of forgiveness
(2 Nephi 2:6, 26; Mosiah 27:24–26; Alma 5:21;
11:40; Helaman 5:10) and
redeemed from death and hell through the
miracle of the resurrection (Mosiah 15:22–24;
Helaman 14:15–17; Mormon
9:12–13). In the same way, through the
mediation and atonement of Christ,
we are reconciled to God the Father. To
reconcile is literally “to sit again
with,” to enjoy sweet association and
communion, to bridge the gulf
between persons, to reestablish a relationship.
“Wherefore, beloved
brethren,” Jacob implored, “be reconciled unto [God]
through the
atonement of Christ, his Only Begotten Son” (Jacob 4:11). “For if,
when we
were enemies,” Paul wrote, “we were reconciled to God by the death of
his
Son, much more, being reconciled, we shall be saved by his life” (Romans
5:10; compare 2 Corinthians 5:18–19).
The
great plan of happiness is a gift. Salvation, which is exaltation,
which is
eternal life, is free. It is not something for which we can barter, nor
is it
something that may be purchased with money. Neither is it, in the
strictest
sense, something that may be earned. More correctly, salvation is a
gift, a gift most
precious, something gloriously transcendent that may only
be inherited (D&C
6:13; 14:7). In commending his son Jacob on the manner
in which he had learned
wisdom and followed righteousness in his youth,
Lehi said: “Thou hast beheld in
thy youth his [Christ’s] glory; wherefore,
thou art blessed even as they unto whom
he shall minister in the flesh; for
the Spirit is the same, yesterday, today,
and forever. And the way is
prepared from the fall of man, and salvation is
free” (2
Nephi 2:4; emphasis
added).
When the
prophets who lived before the coming of our Lord in the
flesh spoke of
salvation being free, they were in effect declaring the same
doctrine that
would come from the apostles and prophets after the ministry
of Jesus that we
are saved by the grace of Christ. That is to say, free
salvation is salvation
by grace.
Elder
Bruce R. McConkie asked: “What salvation is free? What
salvation comes by the
grace of God? With all the emphasis of the rolling
thunders of Sinai, we
answer: All salvation is free; all comes by the merits
and mercy and grace of
the Holy Messiah; there is no salvation of any kind,
nature, or degree that is
not bound to Christ and his atonement.”1
As Nephi
told us, the people of the earth are summoned to the waters
of life to partake
of the milk and honey of the gospel without money and
without price. Nephi
said: “Hath he [the Lord] commanded any that they
should not partake of his
salvation? Nay; but he hath given it free for all
men. . . . Behold,
hath the Lord commanded any that they should not
partake of his goodness?
Behold I say unto you, Nay; but all men are
privileged the one like unto
the other, and none are forbidden” (2 Nephi
26:27–28).
Sometimes
in our efforts to emphasize the importance of good works—
of receiving the
ordinances of salvation, of living by every word of God, of
standing as
witnesses of Christ at all times, and of involving ourselves in
the acts of
Christian service that always characterize the disciples of Jesus
in any
age—we are wont to overlook the simple yet profound reality that
the plan
of salvation, the gospel of Jesus Christ, is truly a gospel of grace.
Through
the atonement of Christ, numerous blessings accrue to mortal
men and women,
blessings that are unconditional benefits of the work of
redemption, acts of
pure grace.
First,
because of the fall of Adam and Eve, had there been no
atonement, this earth
and all forms of life upon it would have been severed
completely from the
regenerating powers of the Spirit. But because of the
love and condescension
and mercies of the Holy One, the light and life of
Christ are extended to earth
and its inhabitants: “Otherwise [we] could not
abound” (D&C 88:50; compare
11:28; 39:1–3; Mosiah 2:21).
Second,
moral agency is made available to all through the Atonement.
“The Messiah
cometh in the fulness of time,” Lehi taught, “that he may
redeem the children
of men from the fall. And because that they are
redeemed from the fall they
have become free forever, knowing good from
evil; to act for themselves and not
to be acted upon. . . . They are free to
choose liberty and eternal
life, through the great Mediator of all men, or to
choose captivity and death,
according to the captivity and power of the
devil” (2 Nephi 2:26–27;
compare 10:23; Helaman 14:30). People in all
ages are thus able to stand fast
“in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made
us free” (Galatians 5:1).
Third,
those who live and die without the gospel law or without
understanding or
accountability are not subject to the demands of God’s
justice. Jacob explained
that in cases “where there is no condemnation the
mercies of the Holy One of
Israel have claim upon them, because of the
atonement” (2 Nephi 9:25). King
Benjamin likewise taught his people that
the blood of Christ atones “for the
sins of those who have fallen by the
transgression of Adam, who have died not
knowing the will of God
concerning them, or who have ignorantly sinned” (Mosiah
3:11; compare
15:24; Moroni 8:22). This benefit applies to little children who
die before
the age of accountability: They remain innocent before the Lord and
are not
subject to the tempter’s power; they are assured of eternal life (Moses
6:53–
54; Moroni 8; D&C 29:46–48; 93:38–42).
Fourth,
because of the ransoming power of Jesus Christ and his
intercessory role, all
men and women will follow the pattern of their Risen
Lord: They will receive
the free gift of immortality—they will be raised
from the dead in the
resurrection to inherit a physical body. “For since by
man came death, by man
came also the resurrection of the dead. For as in
Adam all die, even so in
Christ shall all be made alive” (1 Corinthians
15:21–22). When the time
has fully come and the trump is sounded, “then
shall all the dead awake, for
their graves shall be opened, and they shall
come forth—yea, even all”
(D&C 29:26; compare Alma 11:40–44).
No works
or labors or mortal deeds are necessary to bring these
eventualities to pass.
They come from a gracious Lord who desires to save
all the children of the
Father. Truly, we are recipients of graces without
number and are beneficiaries
of the Lord’s love and condescension, of gifts
that are beyond our power to
work for, earn, or even adequately express
gratitude for. Like Nephi, we joy in
the covenants of the Lord, we delight
“in his grace, and in his justice, and
power, and mercy in the great and
eternal plan of deliverance from death” (2
Nephi 11:5).
A number
of years ago, Elder Russell M. Nelson drew our attention to
the fact that the
word truth is seldom used alone but is frequently linked to a
companion word. “The
word truth is used 435 times in the scriptures,” he
pointed out. “I have studied
each of them. In 374 of those instances, truth is
coupled in the same verse
with some form of a strengthening term. . . . The
majority of the
scriptural references exemplify the importance of truth and
more.
. . .
“Truth and
more bring
more than truth alone. Just as oxen may be
equally yoked together to accomplish
what one could not do alone, so the
power of truth is augmented if equally
yoked together with righteousness or
with mercy or with the spirit of love.”2
As with
truth, so also with the word grace, which is frequently linked
with a companion word. For example, grace is tied to such
concepts as truth
(2 Nephi 2:6; Alma 5:48; 9:26; 13:9), mercy (2 Nephi 9:8;
Alma 5:48),
equity (Alma 9:26; 13:9), goodness (Moroni 8:3), greatness (2 Nephi
9:53),
assurance (D&C 106:8), fulness (D&C 76:94), justice (2 Nephi
11:5),
power (2 Nephi 11:5), condescensions (Jacob 4:7).
Note
also the different ways grace is used in scripture:
Grace as
favor or acceptance in God’s eyes (Genesis 6:8; 19:19;
Exodus 33:13; 34:9; Luke
2:40)
Grace as
a blessing from God (Psalm 84:11; 2 Corinthians 9:8; 13:14;
Mosiah 18:26; 27:5;
D&C 88:78)
Grace as
an outpouring of the Holy Spirit or spiritual gifts (Acts 4:33;
Romans 12:6;
Ephesians 4:7; Mosiah 18:16; D&C 46:15)
Grace as
a calling to preach the gospel (Romans 1:5; 1 Corinthians
3:10; Galatians 1:15;
Ephesians 3:7–8; 1 Peter 4:10; Moroni 7:2)
Grace as
blessings associated with one’s lineage (Isaiah 45:25; Amos
5:15; Zechariah
12:10; D&C 84:99)
Grace as
that which God gives to the weak, including strength to
overcome and to endure
(Proverbs 3:34; 2 Corinthians 8:9; 12:7–10; James
4:5–6; 1 Peter
5:5; Jacob 4:7; Ether 12:27)
Grace as
that which brings salvation (Ephesians 2:8; 2 Timothy 1:9;
Titus 2:11; 1 Peter
1:13; 2 Nephi 10:24–25; 25:23; D&C 138:14)
We live
in a world in which language may shift quite dramatically over
the years. In
some cases, words once clear and definitive in meaning now
have little or no
meaning, or they may denote something opposite to what
they once conveyed. Yet,
the word grace seems to have retained its
beauty
and meaning from biblical times. Philip Yancey wrote: “Perhaps I keep
circling back
to grace
because it is one grand theological word that has not
spoiled. I call it ‘the
last best word’ because every English usage I can find
retains some of the
glory of the original.”3 Thus, we offer grace over our
meals, feel grateful for a blessing, are gratified by an accomplishment, are
gracious to guests, and leave a gratuity at a restaurant.
From a
doctrinal perspective, God’s grace is his mercy, his love, his
condescension
toward the children of men. Grace is unmerited favor,
unearned divine
assistance, goodwill, heavenly benefit, loving kindness. As
explained in the
Bible Dictionary of the Latter-day Saint edition of the King
James
Version of the Bible, grace is a “divine means of help or strength,
given
through the bounteous mercy and love of Jesus Christ.
“It is
through the grace of the Lord Jesus, made possible by his atoning
sacrifice,
that mankind will be raised in immortality, every person receiving
his body
from the grave in a condition of everlasting life. It is likewise
through the
grace of the Lord that individuals, through faith in the
atonement of Jesus
Christ and repentance of their sins, receive strength and
assistance to do good
works that they otherwise would not be able to
maintain if left to their own
means. This grace is an enabling power that
allows men and women to lay hold on
eternal life and exaltation after they
have expended their own best
efforts. “Divine grace is needed by every soul
in consequence of the fall
of Adam and also because of man’s weaknesses
and shortcomings. . . .
It is truly the grace of Jesus Christ that makes
salvation possible.”4
I always
had great respect for my father, a man who was loved and
admired by many, many
people. I was one of them. Because I loved him
and wanted to demonstrate that
love, when others around me occasionally
chose to do questionable things, I
simply could not join in. I just couldn’t
disappoint him. I remember very
distinctly an incident in which Dad had, as
a part of his job, taken a roll of
pictures of a significant event. When he was
finished, he placed the roll of
film on a bookshelf until he could get the
photos developed. I was about twelve
years old and extremely curious. In a
moment of weakness, I opened the roll and
thus exposed the film. I
wrapped it up and put it back on the shelf, hoping,
naively, that no one
would notice what I had done. Of course someone noticed.
Within a day
Dad began to ask his employees if any of them had opened the film
by
mistake. My fear and anxiety grew as the hours passed. I realized that
eventually I would be asked what I knew about the incident. I was
frightened.
But I
wasn’t frightened that Dad would spank me or otherwise
physically harm or
embarrass me in front of others. I was frightened that he
would be
disappointed. When the question was finally put to me, it never
occurred to me
that I should lie or even tell a half-truth. I told him I had
done it
and how sorry I was—I hadn’t meant to mess things up, but dumb
curiosity
had gotten the best of me.
He
explained how important those photographs were and about how
this would cause a major delay in the project he was pursuing.
Then he said:
“Son, I wish you hadn’t done this. But I appreciate your being
honest with
me. That means more to me than some old film. I hope you’ll always
feel
that you can come to me about anything, even when you’ve made some
mistakes.”
On the
one hand, I felt really silly about the whole thing and terribly
sorry for
causing pain and frustration to one I loved so much. But it was
because of that
love—a love that I knew would always be there, one that
lifted and
encouraged and forgave and motivated and even empowered—
that I was able to confess and
forsake my misdeed.
And so
it is with all of us, from tiny indiscretions to major sins against
morality
and decency. God does not shower his gifts upon us to encourage
sin or in any
way reinforce misbehavior. To use the language of Paul, shall
we sin so that
grace may abound? God forbid! (Romans 6:1–2, 15.) Rather,
the love of
God, “shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is
given unto us”
(Romans 5:5; compare 1 Nephi 11:22), offers us hope and
reassurance when we
fall short. The foundation for God’s grace is his
perfect and infinite love for
us. God is our Father, our Father in Heaven. He
is the Father of our spirits
(Numbers 16:22; 27:16; Hebrews 12:9). He loves
us and desires that we as his
children enjoy every privilege and blessing it is
possible to enjoy.
“The
Lord is gracious, and full of compassion,” the Psalmist wrote,
“slow to anger,
and of great mercy. The Lord is good to all: and his tender
mercies are over
all his works” (Psalm 145:8–9; compare Joel 2:12–13). He
extends
the hand of blessing, the hand of fellowship, to his children all the
day long.
The Father thus outlined the plan of salvation in the premortal
councils. The
central feature of that plan is the atonement of Jesus Christ.
“Now our Lord
Jesus Christ himself, and God, even our Father, which hath
loved us, and hath
given us everlasting consolation and good hope through
grace, comfort your
hearts, and stablish you in every good word and work”
(2 Thessalonians 2:16–17; compare 1 Peter 5:10). Truly, “grace and truth
came by Jesus Christ” (John 1:17). Thus, we sing with humble fervor:
Come, thou Fount

of every blessing;
Tune my heart to
sing thy grace;
Streams of mercy,
never ceasing,
Call for songs of

loudest praise.
Teach me some
melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming
tongues above;
Praise the mount;

I’m fixed upon it:
Mount of thy
redeeming love.
O to grace how
great a debtor
Daily I’m
constrained to be!
Let thy goodness,

as a fetter,
Bind my wandering
heart to thee.
Prone to wander,
Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the

God I love;
Here’s my heart, O
take and seal it;
Seal it for thy

courts above.5
Notes
^1.
1. McConkie, Promised Messiah, 346–47.
^2.
2. Nelson, Power within Us, 99–100.
^3.
3. Yancey, What’s So Amazing about Grace? 12.
^4.
4. LDS Bible Dictionary, s.v. “grace,”
697.
^5.
5. “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing,”
Hymns, 1948, no. 70.
II
Our Plight
I remember vividly the mixed emotions I felt when my colleague

Joseph McConkie and his wife, Brenda, were called to preside over a
mission in
Scotland. On the one hand, I was delighted and thrilled for them.
They would do
a tremendous amount of good among missionaries and
members alike, and it would
be a soul-transforming experience for their
family. On the other hand, I would miss
the frequent contact with my
friend. In addition, Joseph and I had written
several books together and
were just finishing the third volume of a
four-volume commentary on the
Book of Mormon when the mission call came.
We enlisted fellow faculty
member Brent Top to do some of the writing for the
fourth volume, and
Brent and I sent the manuscript to Scotland for Joseph to
peruse as he was
able to spare a moment here and there.
About
halfway through his mission, Joseph phoned me. After
describing some of the
challenges and joys they were having (Brenda spoke
of the mission experience as
“the hardest thing we’ve ever loved”), my
colleague said, “Bob, I’ve read
through the material you sent me. It looks
good, although I have some
suggestions. And you know what? We don’t
understand the Fall, do we?”
His
observation caught me off guard. “What do you mean we don’t
understand the
Fall? We have dealt with it a dozen times in this
commentary,” I responded.
“Yes,
but we really don’t grasp what’s involved, do we?” Joseph
replied. He pointed
out that he had been spending a great deal of time
studying and teaching the
Book of Mormon, and in the process he had
repeatedly encountered this specific
doctrine.
In my
heart of hearts, I agreed. It was a painful admission, to be sure,
for I had
served in the Church Educational System for twenty years and
didn’t feel
comfortable acknowledging such a weakness. But it was the
truth.
I
decided to take the time to become more educated and grounded in
this
foundational doctrine of the Fall—to see exactly what the scriptures
declared and what latter-day prophets have stated about it. In the process of
taking a totally new look at scripture, I spent scores of hours with friends
and associates for whom I have great respect and who know doctrine better
than
I do. That study has proved to be a labor of love and worth every effort
as I
have carefully studied what the Book of Mormon teaches us about this
doctrine.
In a
revelation given to Joseph Smith, the Book of Mormon is
described as “a record
of a fallen people” (D&C 20:9). It is certainly a
narrative history of the
rise and fall of two great civilizations, a sobering
chronicle of how
pride and secret combinations usher nations into
destruction. It is also an
ever-present reminder that without divine
assistance and the regenerating
powers of the atonement of Christ, men and
women remain forevermore lost and
fallen creatures.
“Why is
it so vital,” asked Elder William R. Bradford, “that we have a
record of a
fallen people? Why would such a record merit the trial and
suffering of those
who have sacrificed to bring forth this book, even to the
constant and direct
intervention of God Almighty?
“I
submit to you that no one, regardless of race or creed, can ever
understand the
role of and the need for a savior and a redeemer unless he
first knows from
what he needs to be saved or redeemed. No person,
regardless of his religion or
tradition, can understand victory over death and
the terms upon which his
salvation depends unless he understands the
doctrine of fallen man.”1
Or, as
Elder Bradford stated on another occasion: “The Book of
Mormon contains the
record of a fallen people. It outlines how man got into
a condition that
subjects him to death and separation from God.
“The
Book of Mormon also contains the fulness of the gospel of Jesus
Christ. It
outlines for us in perfect clarity what has been done for us and
what we must
do ourselves to overcome our fallen condition and return to
the presence of God. . . .
“The
Book of Mormon holds out to us a fulness of what we must be
saved from. It
gives us a complete understanding of the role of, and the
need for, a savior.
It is another testament of Jesus Christ.”2
The
plight and the promise, the malady and the medication, the Fall
and the
Atonement—that is the burden of the Book of Mormon.
The
Latter-day Saint view of the Fall is remarkably optimistic. We
believe that
Adam and Eve went into the Garden of Eden to fall, that what
they did had the
approbation of God and was thus a transgression (literally,
a “going across”)
and not a sin, and that their fall was as much a part of the
foreordained plan
of the Father as was the Atonement. We believe in the
words of the Prophet
Joseph Smith that “Adam was made to open the way
of the world.”3
Although the Fall was a move downward, it was a move
forward in the eternal
scheme of things, because it “brought man into the
world and set his feet upon
progression’s highway.”4 We do not believe, as
did John Calvin, that
human beings are, by virtue of the Fall, depraved
creatures. We do not believe,
as did Martin Luther, that we are so inclined
to evil that we do not even have
the capacity to choose good on our own.
We do not believe, as do many in the
Christian world, that because of the
Fall little children are subject to an
“original sin.”
Sometimes,
as Latter-day Saints, we get a little nervous about teaching
the Fall,
concerned that perhaps we might be misunderstood as accepting a
belief in
universal human depravity. It is true that all humankind are the
literal spirit
sons and daughters of a divine and exalted Father and that we
have the capacity
to become as he is.5 And yet, the Fall does indeed take a
toll on
all humankind. It is real. Its effects cannot be ignored, nor can its
pull on
the human heart be mitigated by enlightened conversation. A
person’s capacity
to become Christlike is one thing; his or her inclination to
sin is quite
another. It is only as men and women overcome the effects of
the Fall through
the atoning blood and ransoming power of Jesus Christ that
they place
themselves on the path to salvation.
I also
believe that to fail to teach the Fall is to lessen our understanding
of the
importance of the Atonement. President Ezra Taft Benson observed:
“Just as a
man does not really desire food until he is hungry, so he does not
desire the
salvation of Christ until he knows why he needs Christ.
“No one
adequately and properly knows why he needs Christ until he
understands and
accepts the doctrine of the Fall and its effect upon all
mankind.”6
The Fall
and the Atonement are a package deal: the one brings the
other into existence.
I am not aware of any discussion of the Atonement in
the Book of Mormon that is
not accompanied, either directly or by
implication, by a discussion of the
Fall. We do not appreciate and treasure
the medicine until we appreciate the
seriousness of the malady. We cannot
look earnestly and longingly to the
Redeemer if we do not sense the need
for redemption. Jesus came to earth to do
more than offer sage advice. He is
not merely a benevolent consultant or a
spiritual adviser. He is our Savior.
He came to save us. The following are a
few of the principles that may be
learned from the Book of Mormon regarding the
effects of the Fall and the
nature of fallen humanity:
1. All
mankind are lost and fallen. In what seems to be the very first
reference in
the Book of Mormon to the Fall, Nephi taught that “six
hundred years from the
time that my father left Jerusalem, a prophet would
the Lord God raise up among
the Jews—even a Messiah, or, in other words,
a Savior of the world. And
he also spake concerning the prophets, how
great a number had testified of
these things, concerning this Messiah, of
whom he had spoken, or this Redeemer
of the world. Wherefore, all
mankind were in a lost and in a fallen state, and
ever would be save they
should rely on this Redeemer” (1 Nephi 10:4–6;
compare Alma 42:6).
I am
fascinated with those two words so descriptive of mortals—lost
and fallen. Truly, as Isaiah declared (and Abinadi quoted):
“All we, like
sheep, have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way”
(Isaiah
53:6; compare Mosiah 14:6). The Good Shepherd comes on a search and
rescue mission after all of his lost sheep. He who never took a moral detour
or
a backward step reaches out and reaches down to lift us up. We are lost
in that
we do not know our way home without a guide, in that we are
alienated from God
and separated from things of righteousness. We are
fallen in that we have
chosen, like our Exemplar, to condescend to enter a
telestial tenement. Because
our eternal spirit has taken up its temporary
abode in a tabernacle of clay, we
must be lifted up, quickened, and
resuscitated spiritually if we are to return
to the Divine Presence.
Individuals
are lost and fallen in that they are subject to spiritual death,
which is the
separation from God (Alma 42:7, 9), the separation from the
things of
righteousness (Alma 12:16, 32; 40:26). Alma explained to his son
Corianton that
after partaking of the forbidden fruit, our first parents were
“cut off from
the tree of life” and thereby “became lost forever, yea, they
became fallen
man. And now, we see by this that our first parents were cut
off both
temporally and spiritually from the presence of the Lord; and thus
we see they
became subjects to follow after their own will.” Alma pointed
out that inasmuch as “the fall had
brought upon all mankind a spiritual
death as well as a temporal, that is, they
were cut off from the presence of
the Lord, it was expedient that mankind
should be reclaimed from this
spiritual death. Therefore, as they had become
carnal, sensual, and devilish,
by nature, this probationary state became a
state for them to prepare; it
became a preparatory state” (Alma 42:6–10).
2. We
inherit a fallen nature through mortal conception. God spoke to
Father Adam in
the dawn of history: “Inasmuch as thy children are
conceived in sin, even so
when they begin to grow up, sin conceiveth in
their hearts, and they taste the bitter, that
they may know to prize the good”
(Moses 6:55; emphasis added). In one sense, to
be conceived in sin is to be
conceived into a world of sin, to come forth into
a fallen sphere, a state in
which sin predominates. But there is more to it than that. Conception is the
vehicle, the means, whereby a fallen
nature—mortality, or what the
scriptures call the flesh—is
transmitted to the posterity of Adam and Eve. In
short, to say that we are not
responsible for the fall of Adam and Eve is not
to say that we are unaffected
by it. To say that we do not inherit an original
sin through the Fall is not to
say that we do not inherit a fallen nature and
thus the capacity to sin.
Fallenness and mortality are inherited. They come
to us as a natural
consequence of the second estate we call earth life.
Lehi
explained to Jacob that after the Fall “the days of the children of
men were
prolonged, according to the will of God, that they might repent
while in the
flesh; wherefore, their state became a state of probation, and
their time was
lengthened, according to the commandments which the Lord
God gave unto the
children of men. For he gave commandment that all men
must repent; for he
showed unto all men that they were lost, because of the
transgression of
their parents” (2 Nephi 2:21; emphasis added).
Abinadi
likewise explained to the priests of Noah that yielding to
Lucifer’s temptation
in the Garden of Eden “was the cause of [Adam and
Eve’s] fall; which [fall] was
the cause of all mankind becoming carnal,
sensual, devilish, knowing evil from
good, subjecting themselves to the
devil. Thus, all mankind were lost; and
behold, they would have been
endlessly lost were it not that God redeemed his
people from their lost and
fallen state.”
At this
point in reading the passage, we might be tempted to breathe a
sigh of relief
and rejoice that the Fall is already taken care of because Jesus
suffered and
died. But Abinadi continues, and in so doing points out that a
fallen nature is
not just something we descend into through personal sin but
something out of
which we must be extracted through divine regenerating
powers: “But remember
that he that persists in his own carnal nature, and
goes on in the ways of sin
and rebellion against God, remaineth in his fallen
state and the devil hath all
power over him. Therefore he is as though there
was no redemption made, being
an enemy to God; and also is the devil an
enemy to God” (Mosiah 16:3–5;
emphasis added).
Elder
Bruce R. McConkie wrote: “Adam fell. We know that this fall
came because of
transgression, and that Adam broke the law of God,
became mortal, and was thus
subject to sin and disease and all the ills of
mortality. We know that the
effects of his fall passed upon all his posterity;
all inherited a fallen
state, a state of mortality, a state in which temporal and
spiritual death
prevail. In this state all men sin. All are lost. All are fallen.
All are cut
off from the presence of God. All have become carnal, sensual,
and devilish by
nature. Such a way of life is inherent in this mortal
existence.”7
Similarly,
President Brigham Young noted that a critical and doubting
disposition
concerning the work of the Lord “arises from the power of evil
that is so
prevalent upon the face of the whole earth. It was given to you by
your father
and mother; it was mingled with your conception in the womb,
and it has ripened
in your flesh, in your blood, and in your bones, so that it
has become riveted
in your very nature.”8 On another occasion, he
explained: “There are
no persons without evil passions to embitter their
lives. Mankind are
revengeful, passionate, hateful, and devilish in their
dispositions. This we
inherit through the fall, and the grace of God is
designed to enable us to
overcome it.”9
3. One
may be faithful and pure-hearted and yet still be buffeted by the
pulls of a
fallen world. There is a difference between the natural man and
the spiritual
man who is taunted by the natural world in which he lives.
Perhaps there is no
better illustration in scripture than Nephi, son of Lehi.
Here is a man who was
obedient and submissive, a man who was led and
empowered by the Spirit of
Almighty God. “My soul delighteth in the
things of the Lord,” he wrote, “and my
heart pondereth continually upon the
things which I have seen and heard.” Now
note the words that follow,
words spoken by a man who was surely as pure and
virtuous as anyone we
know: “Nevertheless, notwithstanding the great goodness
of the Lord, in
showing me his great and marvelous works, my heart exclaimeth:
O
wretched man that I am! Yea, my heart sorroweth because of my flesh; my
soul
grieveth because of mine iniquities. I am encompassed about, because
of the
temptations and the sins which do so easily beset me. And when I
desire to
rejoice, my heart groaneth because of my sins” (2 Nephi 4:16–19).
The
people of Benjamin were described by their great king as “a
diligent people in
keeping the commandments of the Lord” (Mosiah 1:11).
We suppose they were
members of The Church of Jesus Christ, followers of
our Lord and Savior, people
who had come out of the world by covenant.
Benjamin delivered to his people one
of the most significant addresses in all
the Book of Mormon, in which he
announced his own retirement and his
son Mosiah as his successor. He gave an
accounting for his reign and
ministry, encouraged the people to serve one
another and thereby serve
God, and counseled them (in the words of an angel) to
put off the natural
man and put on Christ through the Atonement. The people
were electrified
by the power of the message. Benjamin “cast his eyes round
about on the
multitude, and behold they had fallen to the earth, for the fear
of the Lord
had come upon them. And they had viewed themselves in their own
carnal
state, even less than the dust of the earth” (Mosiah 4:1–2; emphasis
added).
They cried unto the Lord for forgiveness and deliverance. They were a
noble people, a diligent people, who viewed themselves in their own carnal
state.
In
Moroni’s abridgment of the Jaredite record, we discover that the
brother of
Jared encountered two serious problems in his efforts to construct
eight
seaworthy vessels to transport his people to the promised land: how to
supply
them with air and how to supply them with light. We assume that the
problem of
how to ventilate the vessels was architecturally beyond the
brother of Jared,
for the Lord simply told him how to do it. But in regard to
the light, Jehovah
asked, essentially, “Well, what would you have me to
do?” This statement
implies that God expected the brother of Jared to do
some homework.
The
Jaredite leader went to the top of Mount Shelem with sixteen
transparent
stones, eager to have the Lord touch them and thereby light their
barges. He
presented the stones to the Lord and prayed: “O Lord, thou hast
said that we
must be encompassed about by the floods. Now behold, O
Lord, and do not be
angry with thy servant because of his weakness before
thee; for we know that
thou art holy and dwellest in the heavens, and that
we are unworthy before
thee; because of the fall our natures have become
evil continually” (Ether 3:2; emphasis added).
Then he called upon God for
divine assistance.
We can
grow in spiritual graces to the point wherein we have no more
disposition to do
evil but to do good continually (Mosiah 5:2) and wherein
we cannot look upon
sin save it be with abhorrence (Alma 13:12; see also 2
Nephi 9:49; Jacob 2:5).
We can, like Nephi, delight in the things of the Lord
(2 Nephi 4:16). But as
long as we dwell in the flesh, we will be subject to
the pulls of a fallen
world.
“Will
sin be perfectly destroyed?” President Brigham Young asked.
“No, it will not,
for it is not so designed in the economy of heaven. . . . Do
not suppose that
we shall ever in the flesh be free from temptations to sin.
Some suppose that
they can in the flesh be sanctified body and spirit and
become so pure that
they will never again feel the effects of the power of
the adversary of truth.
Were it possible for a person to attain to this degree
of perfection in the
flesh, he could not die neither remain in a world where
sin predominates. . . .
I think we shall more or less feel the effects of sin so
long as we live, and
finally have to pass the ordeals of death.”10
4.
Little children are innocent by virtue of the Atonement, not by
nature. Joseph
Smith’s teachings concerning the innocence and salvation of
little
children—drawn from the Book of Mormon (Mosiah 3:16; 15:25;
Moroni 8),
his inspired translation of the Bible (JST Genesis 17:11), and the
revelations
we have in the Doctrine and Covenants (D&C 29:46–47; 74:7;
137:10)—came as a refreshing breeze amidst the harsh teachings of some
concerning the plight of unbaptized children. Are little children innocent?
The
answer is a resounding yes. But that question is not really the issue. We
all
know that little children are innocent. The more difficult point is, Why
are
little children innocent? Two possibilities suggest themselves. First,
there are those
who believe little children are innocent because they are that
way by nature.
They are pure and holy and decent and good and unselfish
and solicitous and
benevolent and submissive, just by virtue of their being
little children. I
don’t know about you, but I have not reared any of those
types! The other
possibility is given in the Book of Mormon and in modern
revelation, which is
that little children are innocent as one of the
unconditional blessings of the
Atonement, because Jesus Christ decreed
them so.
Benjamin,
citing the message of an angel, declared that “even if it were
possible that
little children could sin they could not be saved”—meaning, if
there had
been no Atonement—“but I say unto you they are blessed; for
behold, as in
Adam, or by nature, they fall, even so the blood of Christ
atoneth for their
sins” (Mosiah 3:16). Mormon taught similarly that little
children are innocent
“even from the foundation of the world” and that “all
little children are alive
in Christ, and also all they that are without the law.
For the power of
redemption cometh on all them that have no law” (Moroni
8:12, 22). The Lord
through modern revelation attests that “little children
are redeemed from the
foundation of the world through mine Only
Begotten” (D&C 29:46) and that
“little children are holy, being sanctified
through the atonement of Jesus
Christ” (D&C 74:7; compare JST Matthew
18:11; 19:13). We are thus
encouraged to become as little children, not only
by becoming submissive, meek,
humble, patient, and full of love (Mosiah
3:19), but also by becoming innocent
through the atoning blood of Christ
(Moroni 8:10).
5. The
natural man is an enemy to God and to all righteousness. “There
is a natural
birth, and there is a spiritual birth,” Elder Bruce R. McConkie
wrote. “The
natural birth is to die as pertaining to premortal life, to leave
the heavenly
realms where all spirits dwell in the Divine Presence, and to
begin a new life,
a mortal life, a life here on earth. The natural birth creates
a natural man,
and the natural man is an enemy to God. In his fallen state he
is carnal,
sensual, and devilish by nature. Appetites and passions govern his
life and he
is alive—acutely so—to all that is evil and wicked in the
world.”11
The angel explained to King Benjamin that “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. For the natural
man is an enemy to God, and has
been from the fall of Adam, and will be,
forever and ever, unless he yields to
the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and
putteth off the natural man and becometh
a saint through the atonement of
Christ the Lord” (Mosiah 3:18–19).
The
natural man is an enemy to God in that he or she is operating on an
agenda
other than God’s. The natural man does everything in his or her
power to bring
to pass selfish whims and wishes and, in general, has placed
his or her will
above that of the Captain of our souls. President Brigham
Young taught that
“the natural man is at enmity with God. That fallen
nature in every one is
naturally opposed, inherently, through the fall, to God
and to His Kingdom, and
wants nothing to do with them.”12 Such persons
are thereby operating
at cross-purposes to the Father’s plan for the salvation
and redemption of his
children and thus prove to be their own worst enemy
as well. “All men that are
in a state of nature,” Alma observed, “or I would
say, in a carnal state, are
in the gall of bitterness and in the bonds of
iniquity; they are without God in
the world, and they have gone contrary to
the nature of God; therefore, they
are in a state contrary to the nature of
happiness” (Alma 41:11).
The
apostle Paul wrote to the Corinthian Saints that “the natural man
receiveth not
the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto
him: neither can
he know them, because they are spiritually discerned” (1
Corinthians 2:14). In
the process of rejoicing in God, Ammon spoke of the
gratitude he felt that he
and his brothers had not been cast off forever for
going about to destroy the
Church of God. “Behold, he did not exercise his
justice upon us, but in his
great mercy hath brought us over that everlasting
gulf of death and misery,
even to the salvation of our souls. And now
behold, my brethren, what natural
man is there that knoweth these things? I
say unto you, there is none that
knoweth these things, save it be the
penitent” (Alma 26:20–21). President
Young stated that “the natural man
(or as we now use the language, the fallen
or sinful man) receiveth not the
things of the Spirit of God. . . . In no other
way can the things of God be
understood. Men who are destitute of the influence
of the Holy Ghost, or
the Spirit of God, cannot understand the things of God;
they may read them,
but to them they are shrouded in darkness.”13
Latter-day
Saints fully accept the eternal truth that we are the spiritual
sons and
daughters of God and as such have unlimited potential for good
and goodness.
Joseph Smith taught these principles clearly. But this same
Joseph Smith also
said: “I have learned in my travels that man is
treacherous and selfish, but
few excepted.”14 “All are subjected to vanity
while they travel
through the crooked paths and difficulties which surround
them. Where is the
man that is free from vanity? None ever were perfect but
Jesus.”15
“In this world, mankind are naturally selfish, ambitious and
striving to excel
one above another.”16 “There is one thing under the sun
which I have
learned and that is that the righteousness of man is sin because
it exacteth
over much; nevertheless the righteousness of God is just,
because it exacteth
nothing at all, but sendeth the rain on the just and the
unjust, seed time and harvest,
for all of which man is ungrateful.”17
Most
mornings I awaken about 5:45 to take a three- or four-mile walk.
I stumble into
the bathroom, turn on the light, and stare at myself in the
mirror in
frightened disbelief for a moment every day. I look deep into
those bloodshot
eyes. I then attend to my rapidly declining body. By now
the blood has begun to
make its way into my feet, and I notice I do have
some feeling in my
extremities. I chuckle about the spreading baldness and
also the odd fact that
I now grow hair in places where I don’t want it. I
notice with measured gloom
that my broad chest and narrow waistline have
changed places over the years. I
acknowledge that my stamina is not at all
what it once was and that those
“senior moments”—disorientation and plain
old memory losses—seem to
come with greater frequency. In short, I’m not
ashamed to admit, I’m dying
physically. I am now much closer to the grave
than to the cradle. Life has been
good to me, and I’m happy, but physically,
my body is losing the race with life. Looking in
the mirror at 5:45 each
morning has doctrinal implications—it builds my
witness of the truthfulness
and reality of the Fall!
Most of
us deal with the harsh realities of physical deterioration quite
well. What we
are less eager to face up to is that we live in a fallen world
and are subject
to spiritual death. We have thoughts that are unclean,
feelings that are
unchristian, desires that are unholy, attitudes that are
divisive, inclinations
that are disruptive to order and decency. We manifest
pride and arrogance and too often filter our decisions through the lenses of
ego. We are
consumed with judgmentalism and tend to look more harshly
upon the misdeeds of
others than is wise or charitable. We complain and
murmur when things do not go
as we had hoped or when they go slower
than we had anticipated. Even those who
have come out of the world by
covenant into the marvelous light of Christ are
subject to these temptations
and spiritual distractions from the path of peace.
True it is
that as we yield our hearts unto God and confess our need for
his strength and
cleansing power, over time we seem to be less and less
drawn toward
double-mindedness and imprisoned less and less by our
emotions. But to a
certain extent, these challenges are with us and, as
President Young said, they
will be with us until we have passed the tests of
mortality. No less good a man
than Joseph Smith offered this insight into
the need for spiritual honesty:
“Search your hearts,” he implored, “and see
if you are like God. I have
searched mine, and feel to repent of all my
sins.”18
In a
sense, then, our lives are a study in contrast—carnality and
unlimited
divine possibility. Most of us know the words to the beloved
Latter-day Saint
hymn “I Am a Child of God,” written by Naomi W.
Randall. Few hymns have had the
kind of lasting effect on the lives of
Latter-day Saints as this one has:
I am a child of God,
And he has sent me here,
Has given me an earthly home
With parents kind and dear.
Chorus
Lead me, guide me, walk beside me,
Help me find the way.
Teach me all that I must do
To live with him some day.
And so my needs are great;
Help me to understand his words
Before it grows too late.
I am a child of God.
Rich blessings are in store;
If I but learn to do his will
I’ll
live with him once more.19
These
poignant words point us toward the eternal truths associated with
such matters
as who we are, whose we are, where we came from, why we
are here, and where we
are going after death. On dozens of occasions I have
watched with awe as rowdy
youth or seemingly uninterested adults have
been stopped in their tracks,
sobered, touched, and spiritually attuned by the
singing of this simple Primary
hymn. It is a classic, an inspired and
inspiring sermon. And its messages are
timeless and true.
But
there’s another side to the story. Two of my colleagues, Paul
Sutorius and
Curtis Wright, adapted the words of “I Am a Child of God” to
give it a
different emphasis:
That’s only half the view:
If I don’t shed the natural man,
I’m lost, and so are you.
Lead me, guide me, reconcile me;
Chasten me on earth:
Help me overcome the Fall;
Grant me second birth.
But that doesn’t clear the slate:
I’m carnal, sensual, devilish, too,
In a lost and fallen state.
Save me, change me, rearrange me,
Gracious God above:
Cleave unto my broken heart;
Bestow redeeming love.
Yet I’ve become his child
Through faith in his Beloved Son’s
Redemption undefiled.
Lead me, guide me, justify me,
Cleanse me, make me pure;
Help me love as thou hast loved,
Or I
cannot endure.
Having
worked with LDS Family Services and also having served for
many years as a
priesthood leader in several capacities, it has been my
challenge and
opportunity to counsel individuals who have suffered with
addictions of one
sort or another. Some of them have been assisted quite
dramatically by the
Twelve-Step program of Alcoholics Anonymous. A
fundamental principle of
AA—one they teach to be necessary for full
recovery—is the
acknowledgment of one’s plight and inability to solve
one’s problem alone. In
their first meeting, participants say something like
“Hello. My name is
Benjamin Brown, and I’m an alcoholic” or “My name
is Delores Jackson, and I’m a
drug addict.”
That is
a necessary beginning. I wonder what it would be like if those
of us who do not wrestle with alcoholism or addiction but who
are
nonetheless very mortal would occasionally say something like, “Hello. My
name is Bob Millet, and I’m a sinner” or “Good morning. My name is Stacy
Everett, and I don’t always measure up.” Without in any way compromising
our
distinctive doctrinal position on the nature of eternal man, some of the
greatest men and women to walk the earth have been quick to acknowledge
that they
were mortal, that they needed help, that they simply couldn’t pull
it off on
their own.
Although
the following is not sung very often by Latter-day Saint
congregations, this
beloved Christian hymn by John Newton reinforces the
necessity of acknowledging
our fallen mortal nature and thus our
dependence on our Savior:
Amazing grace! how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.
’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
And grace my fears relieved;
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed!
Thro’ many dangers, toils, and snares,
I have already come;
’Tis grace hath bro’t me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.
When we’ve been there ten thousand years.
Bright shining as the sun,
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise
Than
when we first begun.20
Philip
Yancey, a popular Evangelical Christian writer, noted:
“Theologians with long
faces lecture on ‘the imperatives of the faith.’
Television evangelists with
every hair in place (often dyed) confidently
name the Antichrist, predict the
end of the world, and announce how to
have a prosperous and happy life in the
meanwhile. The religious right calls
for moral regeneration, and ordinary
Christians point to temperance,
industriousness, and achievement as primary
proofs of their faith. Could it
be that Christians, eager to point out how good
we are, neglect the basic
fact that the gospel sounds like good news only to
bad people?” Yancey
then quoted the beloved Roman Catholic thinker G. K.
Chesterton: “The
Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has
been found
difficult; and left untried.” Indeed, Chesterton pointed out that
one of the
strongest arguments in favor of Christian doctrine is the failure of
Christians to live up to their ideals; such manifests the ever-present power
of
the Fall.21
We thus
return to the Latter-day Saint view of man—his nature and
destiny—which is remarkably optimistic. We are the sons and daughters of
God Almighty; we are his spirit offspring. We have the capacity, through
appropriating the powers of the Atonement, to grow in spiritual graces and
in
Christlike attributes so as to be “partakers of the divine nature” (2 Peter
1:4). But despite our divine heritage, despite our spiritual potentialities, we
cannot save ourselves. We cannot forgive our own sins, cleanse our souls,
renew
our hearts, raise ourselves from the dead, or prepare a heavenly
mansion on our
own. Elder Dallin H. Oaks observed: “Man unquestionably
has impressive powers
and can bring to pass great things by tireless efforts
and indomitable will.
But after all our obedience and good works, we
cannot be saved from the effect
of our sins without the grace extended by
the atonement of Jesus Christ.”22
As President Brigham Young explained,
“It requires all the atonement of Christ,
the mercy of the Father, the pity of
angels and the grace of the Lord Jesus
Christ to be with us always, and then
to do the very best we possibly can, to
get rid of this sin within us, so that
we may escape from this world into the
celestial kingdom.”23
It was
Aaron, son of King Mosiah, who pointed out that because man
had fallen, he
could not merit anything of himself. It is, in fact, the
sufferings and death
and resurrection of Christ that make possible true
spiritual progress (Alma
22:14). In that light, we are in a position to delight
and even boast in the
power of our God, for “he has all power, all widsom,
and all understanding”
(Alma 26:35).
When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.
Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Christ, my God:
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to his blood.
See, from His head, His hands, His feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down:
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were an off’ring far too small;
Love, so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all!24
Notes
^1.
1. Bradford, “Message Sublime,” 156.
^2.
2. Bradford, Conference Report, October
1983, 100–101.
^3.
3. Smith, Teachings of the Prophet Joseph
Smith, 12.
^4.
4. Cowley and Whitney on Doctrine, 287.
^5.
Smith, 346–48; Lectures on
Faith, 5:3.
^6.
6. Benson, A Witness and a Warning,
33.
^7.
7. McConkie, Promised Messiah, 244.
^8.
8. Young, Journal of Discourses, 2:134.
^9.
^10.
^11.
11. McConkie, New Witness for the Articles
of Faith, 282.
^12.
^13.
^14.
Smith, 30.
^15.
15. Smith, Teachings of the Prophet
Joseph Smith, 187.
^16.
Joseph Smith, 297.
^17.
Joseph Smith, 317.
^18.
Joseph Smith, 216.
^19.
19. “I Am a Child of God,” Hymns, 1985, no. 301.
^20.
20. “Amazing Grace,” Cokesbury
Worship Hymnal, no. 43.
^21.
21. Yancey, Soul Survivor, 57–58.
^22.
22. Oaks, Conference Report, October
1988, 78.
^23.
^24.
24. “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross,”
Cokesbury Worship Hymnal, no. 32.
III
Our Hope
A friend who is now a minister of a Protestant faith told me a

little
about his past. His family had joined The Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-
day Saints when he was a boy. He worked his way through
Primary and was
ordained to the Aaronic Priesthood. In his teenage years, he
told me, a
friend of his invited him to a summer Bible camp. There he came into
contact with people who had given their lives to Christ and who spoke of
the
Master and of his cleansing and redeeming power over and over during
the week.
According to my friend, these were things he had heard very little
about in our
Church.
He
indicated that the Latter-day Saints in his ward were lovely people,
caring men and women, who tried really hard to live moral, upright lives.
He
said that although he had heard little of Christ, he had often heard such
words
as church and work and duties and commitment. He sensed a
devotion to the
Savior in his newfound Evangelical friends that he felt was
missing among the
Latter-day Saints. Consequently, he and other members
of his family
affiliated themselves with an Evangelical Christian church in
their area. He
rejoiced that he had “found Jesus.”
I
listened to his story very intently and sensed his sincerity. I said
soberly,
“I’m sorry.”
He
replied, “Bob, you don’t need to apologize.”
“Yes, I
do need to apologize,” I responded. “I’m sorry you didn’t ‘find
Jesus’ in our
Church. I’m sorry that for whatever reason the Savior seemed
to be difficult to
find or hard to recognize. I’m sorry because I have found
him, and you could have
done the same.”
I know
there are those within our faith who might suggest to my friend
that perhaps he
had been, to use the words of a popular song, “looking for
Christ in all the
wrong places.” And some might even, in a cynical moment,
suggest that there
must have been some standard of obedience, some
Church requirement, that the
family simply didn’t want to follow, and so
they left.
I’m in
no position to judge this family’s heart or motives, to know what
they felt and
sensed and what they didn’t. But I do know that our belief in
Christ—who
he is, what he has done, what he is now doing, what he will
yet do, and how
central he is to the faith and practices of the Latter-day
Saints—must not be just the topic of reverent and private conversations.
Otherwise, as someone has wisely suggested, the best kept secret in the
Church
will remain the gospel!
“Many
years ago,” Elder Dallin H. Oaks stated, “a young Latter-day
Saint
enrolled in a midwestern university and applied for a scholarship only
available to Christians. Both the applicant and the university officials were
unsure whether a Mormon was eligible. After consulting a panel of
theologians,
they concluded that this Mormon was a Christian.
“When I
first heard of that event over thirty years ago, I was shocked
that anyone,
especially a member of our church, would entertain any doubt
that we are
Christians. I have come to a better understanding of that
confusion. I think we
sometimes thoughtlessly give others cause to wonder.
How does this happen?
“For
many years I was a teacher of law. A frequent teaching method in
that
discipline is to concentrate classroom instruction on the difficult
questions—the obscure and debatable matters that lie at the fringes of
learning. Some law teachers believe that the simple general rules that
answer
most legal questions are so obvious that students can learn them by
independent
study. As a result, these teachers devote little time to teaching
the
basics.
“I
believe some of us sometimes do the same thing in gospel teaching.
We neglect
to teach and testify to some simple, basic truths of paramount
importance. This
omission permits some members and nonmembers to get
wrong ideas about our faith
and belief.”1
Our hope
and trust cannot be in ourselves, no matter how impressive
our credentials or
how stunning our achievements. We are mortal, and our
imperfections and
limitations are only too obvious. Nor must our trust or
our hope be in
programs, procedures, lists, formulas, or laws of spiritual
success. As my
friend Sheri Dew pointed out: “The Savior isn’t our last
chance; He is our only
chance. Our only chance to overcome self-doubt and
catch a vision of
who we may become. Our only chance to repent and have
our sins washed clean.
Our only chance to purify our hearts, subdue our
weaknesses, and avoid the
adversary. Our only chance to obtain redemption
and exaltation. Our only chance
to find peace and happiness in this life and
eternal life in the world to
come. . . .
“The
Lord knows the way because He is the way and is our only
chance for successfully
negotiating mortality. His Atonement makes
available all of the power, peace,
light, and strength that we need to deal
with life’s challenges—those
ranging from our own mistakes and sins to
trials over which we have no control
but we still feel pain.”2
Some
years ago I sat with my counselors in a bishopric meeting. It was
drawing to a
close because sacrament meeting would be starting in just ten
minutes when a
knock came at the door. A young woman from my ward
asked if she could visit
with me for a moment. I replied that we could chat
for a bit, but sacrament
meeting would be starting soon. She assured me that
she needed only a minute or
two.
After we
had been seated for a few seconds, she said, “Bishop, I need
to confess a sin.”
I was startled with the suddenness of the statement, but,
managing to maintain
my composure, I responded, “That could take some
time, couldn’t it? Shall we meet
after the block of meetings today?”
She
quickly responded: “Oh no! This will just take a second.”
I nodded
and asked her to go ahead. She proceeded to describe in some
detail a very
serious moral transgression in which she had been involved. It
was now about
one minute before the meeting was to start, so I tried again:
“Why don’t we get
together after priesthood and Relief Society meetings?”
She
answered, “Well, I don’t know why we would need to, unless it
would be helpful
to you, or something.”
Rather
stunned, I indicated that such a meeting might prove beneficial
to both of us.
She agreed to return.
Three
hours later, and after we had exchanged a few pleasantries, I
asked her, “How
do you feel about what has happened?”
She
responded, “Just fine.” I must have shown my perplexity because
she added, “For
a number of hours I felt bad about what happened, but it’s
okay now because
I’ve repented.”
I
couldn’t ask her the question fast enough, “What do you mean when
you say that
you have repented?” (She had explained to me earlier that the
transgression had
taken place on Friday night, and it was now Sunday
afternoon.) At that point,
she reached into her purse and retrieved a yellow
sheet of legal-size
paper. Pointing one by one to various headings that
began with an R, she said, “I’ve done this, and
this, and this, and this, and
finally, I’ve confessed to you. I’ve repented.”
“It
seems to me that you’ve skipped an R,” I said. “Perhaps your list is
missing something.”
A
startled but persistent look was in her eyes, and I noted a slight
impatience
as she said, “That can’t be. I have everything listed here!”
“No,” I
insisted, “you’re definitely missing an R. The R you’re missing
is Redeemer. You have no place for Christ on
your list. I mean, what does
Jesus Christ have to do with your transgression?
What does what happened
in Gethsemane and on Calvary two thousand years ago
have to do with
what happened to you two nights ago?”
She
answered, “Jesus died for me. He died for my sins.”
To
almost every question I asked thereafter she gave a perfect answer
—at
least, an apparently perfectly correct answer. She had been well
trained, and
her answers reflected an awareness of the doctrines associated
with repentance.
But the answers were all totally cerebral, straight from
memory and
mind—not from the heart. She obviously saw no real tie
between her own
ungodly actions and the infinite actions of a God. We
spent a few hours
together that day and many days thereafter—searching
the scriptures,
praying together, and counseling over the way back to the
strait and narrow
path. We talked often and intently about Jesus Christ.
That was
a sobering experience, one that convinced me that we need to
be reminded, very
often, why in this Church we do what we do. Nephi
summed it up: “We talk of
Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ,
we prophesy of Christ,
. . . that our children may know to what source they
may look for
a remission of their sins” (2 Nephi 25:26; emphasis added).
Since
that time, I have formulated my own list of R’s that point my
mind to Jesus the
Messiah and rivet my affections on him. There is nothing
sacred about this list
(how many items there are or in what order they
appear) except that they direct
my own heart to sacred things.
1. Resolving
to come
unto Christ. Some years ago it was not
uncommon to see bumper stickers that
read: “Jesus is the answer.” Answers
are always much more appreciated when we
know the question. As was the
case anciently in Alma’s dealings with the
Zoramites, so it is today—the
great question in the religious world is
whether there is a Christ and what
role he does or should serve in our lives
(Alma 34:5).
Those
who labor tirelessly to lighten burdens and alleviate human
suffering but at
the same time deny that Jesus Christ is God or claim there is
no need for a
Savior in this enlightened age cannot have the lasting effect
on society they
could have if they drew upon the spiritual forces that center
in the Lord Omnipotent. And those who focus on the moral teachings of
Jesus but
downplay his divine Sonship miss the mark dramatically. For
some, Jesus stands as the preeminent example of kindness, the
ultimate
illustration of social and interpersonal graciousness and morality. A
favorite
text for this group is the Sermon on the Mount; their highest
aspiration is to
live the Golden Rule.
A Roman
Catholic philosopher wrote: “According to the theological
liberal, [the Sermon
on the Mount] is the essence of Christianity, and Christ
is the best of human
teachers and examples. . . . Christianity is essentially
ethics.
“What’s
missing here? Simply, the essence of Christianity, which is not
the Sermon on the Mount. When
Christianity was proclaimed throughout
the world, the proclamation (kerygma) was not ‘Love your enemies!’
but
‘Christ is risen!’ This was not a new ideal but a new event, that God
became man, died, and
rose for our salvation. Christianity is first of all not
ideal but real, an
event, news, the gospel, the ‘good news.’ The essence of
Christianity is not
Christianity; the essence of Christianity is Christ.”3
We come
unto Christ not only to be taught but to be transformed. He is
not only our
Example but also our Change Agent and our Benefactor. Jesus
is not only a
convenient resource but the vital and indispensable element in
our quest for
happiness here and eternal reward hereafter. There is no hope
and no
possibility of reconciliation with the Father except by and through
the
Savior.
Enos
wrestled with his sins until he heard the voice of God declaring,
“Enos,
thy sins are forgiven thee, and thou shalt be blessed.”
“Lord,
how is it done?” Enos asked.
The Lord
answered, “Because of thy faith in Christ, whom thou hast
never before heard
nor seen. . . . Wherefore, go to, thy faith hath made thee
whole”
(Enos 1:5–8).
In the
apogee of his agony, confronted and tortured spiritually through
the medium of
memory, Alma the Younger recorded:
“And it
came to pass that as I was thus racked with torment, while I
was harrowed up by
the memory of my many sins, behold, I remembered
also to have heard my father
prophesy unto the people concerning the
coming of one Jesus Christ, a Son of
God, to atone for the sins of the world.
Now, as my mind caught hold upon this
thought, I cried within my heart: O
Jesus, thou Son of God, have mercy on me,
who am in the gall of bitterness,
and am encircled about by the everlasting
chains of death. And now,
behold, when I thought this, I could remember my
pains no more; yea, I
was harrowed up by the memory of my sins no more. And oh,
what joy, and
what marvelous light I did behold; yea, my soul was filled with
joy as
exceeding as was my pain!” (Alma 36:17–20).
Indeed,
Jesus Christ is the Source of solace. Jesus Christ is the Prince
of Peace.
2. Being
Reconciled to God through Christ. The Fall brought changes
to the earth and to all
forms of life on earth, changes both cosmic and
individual. In the spiritual
realm, individuals began life in a new sphere, a
new state, a new kind of
being. Whereas in Eden, Adam and Eve had
enjoyed the blessings of a
terrestrial, immortal condition in which things
were not subject to death, after
the Fall, in a fallen, telestial earth, all things
began their steady decline
toward dissolution. From modern revelation “we
learn man’s situation at his
first creation, the knowledge with which he was
endowed, and the high and
exalted station in which he was placed—lord or
governor of all things on
earth, and at the same time enjoying communion
. . . with his Maker,
without a veil to separate between.”4 After the Fall,
however, Adam
and Eve “heard the voice of the Lord from the way toward
the Garden of Eden,
speaking unto them, and they saw him not; for they
were shut out from his
presence” (Moses 5:4; compare D&C 29:41).
The
Atonement is that divine act of mercy and grace and
condescension by which our
Father and God opens the door to reunion. In
and through Adam, we partake of
mortality and death. In and through
Christ, our Mediator and Intercessor, we partake of immortality and the
abundant life. By means of the Atonement, we
are reconciled to the Father.
By means of the Atonement, the finite is reconciled to the Infinite, the
incomplete to
the Complete, the unfinished to the Finished, the imperfect to
the Perfect. The Atonement, as an act of grace, demonstrates
the love of the
Father for his children.
Jesus
Christ, who lived a sinless and perfect life, claims of the Father
“his rights
of mercy which he hath upon the children of men” (Moroni
7:27). Jacob reminded
us to “seek not to counsel the Lord, but to take
counsel from his hand. For
behold, ye yourselves know that he counseleth
in wisdom, and in justice, and in
great mercy, over all his works.
Wherefore, . . . be reconciled unto
him through the atonement of Christ, his
Only Begotten Son, and ye may obtain a
resurrection, according to the
power of the resurrection which is in Christ, and
be presented as the first-
fruits of Christ unto God” (Jacob
4:10–11).
3. Being
Renewed in
Christ. The Book of Mormon is a powerful
invitation to come unto Christ and be
changed. Indeed, one who chooses
Christ chooses to be changed. The plan of
salvation is not just a program
bent on making bad men good and good men
better, though it certainly does
that, but rather it is a system of salvation
that seeks to renovate society and
transform the whole of humankind.
Those
who are dead to the things of the Spirit must be quickened, made
alive, or born
again in order to enter the realm of divine experience. This
rebirth is not
optional but required. Elder Bruce R. McConkie wrote: “The
spiritual birth
comes after the natural birth. It is to die as pertaining to
worldliness and
carnality and to become a new creature by the power of the
Spirit. It is to
begin a new life, a life in which we bridle our passions and
control our
appetites, a life of righteousness, a spiritual life. Whereas we
were in a deep
abyss of darkness, now we are alive in Christ and bask in the
shining rays of
his everlasting light. Such is the new birth, the second birth,
the birth into
the household of Christ.”5
The new
birth is the means by which “the dark veil of unbelief” is
removed from our
minds and by which the “light of the glory of God”
infuses joy into our souls
(Alma 19:6). It is the process by which we “lay
aside every sin, which easily
doth beset [us], which doth bind [us] down to
destruction” (Alma 7:15). It is
the only way whereby we can receive the
image of Christ in our countenances
(Alma 5:14).
This
renewal is a conversion from worldliness to saintliness, from
being lured by
the lurid to being enticed by holiness. It comes to us by
virtue of the
cleansing blood of Jesus and through the medium of the Holy
Ghost, who is the
Sanctifier. After hearing their king’s powerful address,
the people of Benjamin
“cried with one voice, saying: Yea, we believe all
the words which thou hast
spoken unto us; and also, we know of their
surety and truth, because of the
Spirit of the Lord Omnipotent, which has
wrought a mighty change in us, or in our hearts, that we have no
more
disposition to do evil, but to do good continually” (Mosiah 5:2; emphasis
added; compare Alma 19:33).
The
conversion experience was real. It was born of the Spirit. It was of
God.
Surely as time passed and as the people grew into that meaningful
spiritual
union with Christ of which the prophets speak, there was little in
the world to
recommend itself to them, for their desires were to please the
Almighty and
enjoy his approbation. We do not suppose, however, that the
people of Benjamin
never sinned again; that was impossible in this fallen
sphere. No, they sinned
and made mistakes thereafter, but they didn’t want
to. And, thanks be to God, we will
be judged not only by our works but also
by the desires of our hearts (Alma
41:3; D&C 137:9).
The
testimony of Alma the Younger is vital. Having lain immobile for
three days and
three nights and having come face to face with the heinous
nature of his sins,
he awoke to a new life. Alma “stood up and began to
speak unto them, bidding
them to be of good comfort: for, said he, I have
repented of my sins, and have
been redeemed of the Lord; behold I am born
of the Spirit. And the Lord said
unto me: Marvel not that all mankind, yea,
men and women, all nations,
kindreds, tongues, and people, must be born
again; yea, born of God, changed
from their carnal and fallen state, to a
state of righteousness, being redeemed
of God,
becoming his sons and
daughters; and thus they become new creatures; and unless they do this,
they
can in nowise inherit the kingdom of God” (Mosiah 27:23–26;
emphasis
added).
President
Ezra Taft Benson noted that “we must be careful, as we seek
to become more and
more godlike, that we do not become discouraged and
lose hope. Becoming
Christlike is a lifetime pursuit and very often involves
growth and change that
is slow, almost imperceptible.” Then, speaking of
the sudden spiritual
transformations of such notables as Alma the Younger,
Paul, Enos, and King
Lamoni, he added: “We must be cautious as we
discuss these remarkable examples.
Though they are real and powerful, they
are the exception more than the
rule. For
every Paul, for every Enos, and
for every King Lamoni, there are hundreds and
thousands of people who
find the process of repentance much more subtle, much
more imperceptible.
Day by day they move closer to the Lord, little realizing
they are building a
godlike life. They live quiet lives of goodness, service,
and commitment.
They are like the Lamanites, who, the Lord said, ‘were baptized
with fire
and with the Holy Ghost, and they knew it not’ (3 Nephi 9:20).”6
4. Being
Reinstated in
the family of God. The Fall distances us from
righteousness and alienates us
from the family of God. The Atonement
provides the means not only for
forgiveness of sins but also for
reinstatement into the royal family. Benjamin
acknowledged this marvelous
truth when he commended his people for their
willingness to renew their
baptismal covenant and come again unto Christ: “And
now, because of the
covenant which ye have made ye shall be called the children
of Christ, his
sons, and his daughters; for behold, this day he hath
spiritually begotten
you; for ye say that your hearts are changed through faith
on his name;
therefore, ye are born of him and have become his sons and his
daughters.
And under this head ye are made free, and there is no other head whereby
ye can
be made free. There is no other name given whereby salvation
cometh; therefore,
I would that ye should take upon you the name of Christ,
all you that have
entered into the covenant with God that ye should be
obedient unto the end of
your lives” (Mosiah 5:7–8; emphasis added;
compare 27:25).
Just as
a newborn human infant enters a family relationship through
birth into
mortality, even so the new birth, the birth of the Spirit, becomes
an avenue to
life within the family of the Lord Jesus Christ. Christ is thus
the Father of
our awakening into newness of life, the Father of our
resurrection, the Father
of our salvation. We take his name upon us and seek
to be worthy of his holy
name. As members of his family, we are expected
to know who we are and act
accordingly—to keep his commandments with
fidelity and devotion and to
take seriously our divine birthright as
Christians. As the seed of Christ, we
hearken unto the word of the prophets,
look to Jesus, our Lord, for redemption,
and publish peace after the manner
of the Prince of Peace (Mosiah
15:11–18). He is the Shepherd, and we are
the sheep of his fold. “Behold,
I say unto you, that the good shepherd doth
call you; yea, and in his own name
he doth call you, which is the name of
Christ; and if ye will not hearken unto
the voice of the good shepherd, to
the name by which ye are called, behold, ye
are not the sheep of the good
shepherd” (Alma 5:38).
5. Relying
upon the
merits and mercy of Christ. The Book of Mormon
teaches that we are saved by
merit but that merit is not our own. “Since
man had fallen,” Aaron explained to the father of
Lamoni, “he could not
merit anything of himself; but the sufferings and death of
Christ atone for
their sins, through faith and repentance, and so forth” (Alma
22:14;
emphasis added).
This
passage requires a bit of explanation. Of course we are expected
to receive the
ordinances of salvation, work faithfully in the kingdom,
perform acts of
Christian service, and endure faithfully to the end. Of
course we are expected
to do the works of righteousness. These things are
necessary—they
evidence our covenant with Christ to follow him and keep
his commandments. They
are necessary, but they are not sufficient.
The
prophet Abinadi delivered a scathing denunciation of Noah and his
priests,
particularly of the manner in which they feigned allegiance to the
law of Moses
but refused to live in harmony with its moral precepts.
Further, he corrected
their false impression that salvation could come by the
law alone. “I say unto
you,” he declared, “that it is expedient that ye should
keep the law of Moses
as yet; but I say unto you, . . . that salvation doth not
come by the
law alone; and were it not for the atonement, which God
himself shall make for
the sins and iniquities of his people, that they must
unavoidably perish,
notwithstanding the law of Moses” (Mosiah 13:27–28).
Elder
Bruce R. McConkie suggested a latter-day application of
Abinadi’s
words:
“Suppose
we have the scriptures, the gospel, the priesthood, the
Church, the ordinances,
the organization, even the keys of the kingdom—
everything that now is
down to the last jot and tittle—and yet there is no
atonement of Christ.
What then? Can we be saved? Will all our good works
save us? Will we be
rewarded for all our righteousness?
“Most
assuredly we will not. We are not saved by works alone, no
matter how good; we
are saved because God sent his Son to shed his blood
in Gethsemane and on
Calvary that all through him might ransomed be. We
are saved by the blood of
Christ.
“To
paraphrase Abinadi: ‘Salvation doth not come by the Church
alone: and were it
not for the atonement, given by the grace of God as a free
gift, all men must unavoidably perish, and this
notwithstanding the Church
and all that appertains to it.’”7
6. Retaining
a
remission of sins. It is a marvelous thing to know that
through the cleansing
power of the blood of Christ we may obtain a
remission of our sins and thus
stand spotless before God. The promise of
forgiveness is indeed a miracle, a
wondrous act on the part of a merciful
and omniloving God. We know we are
forgiven as the Spirit of the Lord
returns and as joy and peace of conscience
fill our souls once more (Mosiah
4:1–3). And yet we stand each day, as it
were, precariously on the edge of a
cliff—we are subject to subsequent
sin. How can we, without trifling with
repentance, remain pure?
The Book
of Mormon prophets provide the answer. They speak of
remaining in a justified
condition, of maintaining or retaining our spotless
standing before God even
though we make mistakes. Like the people of
Benjamin, we may err after our
covenant with the Master, but we have no
desire to do so. That is, our heart,
our affections, our desires have all been
surrendered unto Christ, and we have
no desire to stray from our binding
covenant with him. As we endure to the end
through living constantly in a
state of repentance with an ever-present
desire to be transformed in Christ,
the Savior holds us guiltless (3 Nephi
27:16; compare D&C 4:2).
Benjamin
explained two means by which the Saints are enabled to
retain a remission of
sins from day to day. First of all, he said, “As ye have
come to the knowledge
of the glory of God, or if ye have known of his
goodness and have tasted of his
love, and have received a remission of your
sins, which causeth such
exceedingly great joy in your souls, even so I
would that ye should remember,
and always retain in remembrance, the
greatness of God, and your own
nothingness, and his goodness and long-
suffering towards you,
unworthy creatures, and humble yourselves even in
the depths of humility,
calling on the name of the Lord daily, and standing
steadfastly in the faith of
that which is to come, which was spoken by the
mouth of the angel. And behold,
I say unto you that if ye do this ye shall
always rejoice, and be filled
with the love of God, and always retain a
remission of your sins; and ye shall grow in the knowledge of him that
created you, or in the knowledge of that which is just and true” (Mosiah
4:11–12; emphasis added; compare Moroni 7:42–44).
Acknowledgment
of God’s greatness and goodness, recognition of our
absolute ineptitude without
divine assistance, surrender to the sobering
verity that our spiritual
condition is bankrupt without the Atonement—these
are the necessary
conditions for redemption in Christ, the means whereby
we retain a remission of
sins from day to day. To the degree that we bow in
humble reverence before the
Lord Omnipotent and trust in his incomparable
might, surely to that degree we
open ourselves to the sweet enabling power
we know as the grace of God.
Second,
the means of retaining a remission of sins is set forth by King
Benjamin after
his lengthy plea to the people of God to care for the needy:
“And now, for the
sake of these things which I have spoken unto you—that
is, for the
sake of retaining a remission of your sins from day to day, that ye
may walk guiltless before
God—I would that ye should impart of your
substance to the poor, every man according to that which
he hath, such as
feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and
administering
to their relief, both spiritually and temporally, according to
their wants”
(Mosiah 4:26; emphasis added; compare Alma 4:10–14). Perhaps
these two
matters are really one—that is, the more we look to the Lord,
humble
ourselves before him, freely acknowledge his goodness and grace, and
strive to be like him, the more we are prone to look to the welfare of our
brothers and sisters about us. Being filled with the love of God results in
meaningful and lasting service to the children of God.
6. Rejoicing
in
Christ. Jacob surely sang the song of redeeming love
(Alma 5:26) when he
gloried in the wisdom, goodness, greatness, justice,
mercy, and holiness of our
God (2 Nephi 9:8–20). Ammon boasted not in
his own strength but in the
infinite power of his Lord: “Yea, I know that I
am nothing; as to my strength I
am weak; therefore I will not boast of
myself, but I will boast of my God, for
in his strength I can do all things”
(Alma 26:12).
I
rejoice that Adam fell that we might be (2 Nephi 2:25; Moses 6:48)),
and
because of that fall, we enter mortality to undertake the second phase of
our
eternal journey. I rejoice in the Fall, for it called forth the Atonement,
the
means whereby our hearts might be cleansed and our souls transformed
and
prepared to dwell with Christ and our Eternal Father. I know of the
malady we
call the fallen condition and of the heartache that comes to us as
we yield to
the flesh. I also know of the consummate peace that comes as
we strive to put
off the natural man through the Atonement and yield to the
enticings of the
Holy Spirit. For that good news, those glad tidings, I am
immeasurably
grateful.
All
across the world, Latter-day Saints stand and testify that The
Church
of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true. And that is just as it
should be. First and foremost, we believe in God. We believe in Jesus
Christ.
We trust in the powers of the Atonement to reclaim, renovate, renew,
regenerate, and reinstate us. We believe that there is purpose to life and that
our Heavenly Father has restored a divine plan of happiness by which his
children may mature spiritually to the point where they are prepared to
dwell
with him once again. These truths concerning God and Christ and the
plan of
salvation are fundamental. They are foundational. They are givens.
Thus, when we testify of
the truthfulness of the Church, we testify of the
God who reestablished it in
these latter days and of the Savior who stands at
its head.
The
Church is the means, the vehicle, for salvation. Through the
Church we receive
the ordinances of salvation. Through the Church we sing
and preach and rejoice.
Through the Church we learn to love and serve one
another, to contribute to the
edification and growth of the body of Christ, to
participate in a system of
organized sacrifice. But our hope for salvation is
not in a system, not in an
organization, not in a program, inspired and God-
ordained though they
may be. Our hope is in Christ. In a world that offers
flimsy and fleeting
remedies for mortal despair, Jesus comes to us in our
moments of need with a
“more excellent hope” (Ether 12:32). What Jesus
Christ has done speaks volumes concerning
what he can do and what he
will do for us:
How firm a
foundation, ye Saints of the Lord,
Is laid for your

faith in his excellent word!
What more can he say

than to you he hath said,
Who unto the Savior

for refuge have fled?
When through the

deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of sorrow

shall not thee o’erflow,
For I will be with

thee, thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee

thy deepest distress.
When through fiery

trials thy pathway shall lie,
My grace, all
sufficient, shall be thy supply.
The flame shall not

hurt thee; I only design
Thy dross to consume

and thy gold to refine.
The soul that on

Jesus hath leaned for repose
I will not, I
cannot, desert to his foes;
That soul, though

all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no
never, no never forsake!8
Notes
^1.
1. Oaks, Conference Report, October
1988, 75–76.
^2.
2. Oaks, Conference Report, April
1999, 84–85.
^3.
3. Kreeft, Back to Virtue, 83.
^4.
4. Lectures on Faith, 2:12.
^5.
5. McConkie, New Witness for the
Articles of Faith, 282.
^6.
6. Benson, “Mighty Change of Heart,”
2–5; emphasis added.
^7.
7. McConkie, “What Think Ye of
Salvation by Grace?” 48.
^8.
8. “How Firm a Foundation,” Hymns, 1985, no. 85.
IV
His Righteousness
Imagine that you have been asked to

serve as the defense attorney for a
man who has been arrested for robbing a
local convenience store. How
would you proceed? You think back to all the Perry
Mason episodes you
have viewed and plot out a defense. First, you establish
that your client had
no motive: he is in good shape financially and to steal
one hundred dollars
makes no sense. Then you work on whether he had opportunity
to commit
the crime, establishing that he was nowhere near the scene at the
time the
crime was committed and that he has an alibi. Finally, you work on the
matter of his reputation. You emphasize to the jury that this man is a caring
husband, the beloved father of nine children, a civic-minded Little
League
baseball coach and an active Scouter. In short, such a crime is
absolutely
foreign to his reputation. Such an approach just might do the
trick.
Think
for a moment, however, of how the court might respond if you
simply stand and
state with great confidence: “Your Honor and members of
the jury, I demand that
you set this man free!”
The
judge answers: “On what grounds?”
You
reply simply: “Because of my excellent reputation as an attorney
and because of
my marvelous record of service to the innocent who are
unjustly accused.”
We can
only imagine how the judge and jury would respond, but you
would no doubt be
laughed out of the courtroom. And yet, note how the
Savior pleads our case, how
he mediates between us and the Eternal Father:
“Listen to him who is the
advocate with the Father, who is pleading your
cause before him—saying:
Father, behold the sufferings and death of him
who did no sin, in whom thou
wast well pleased; behold the blood of thy
Son which was shed, the blood of him
whom thou gavest that thyself might
be glorified.”
What a
strange defense! The Lord here pleads our cause on the basis of
his merits. We are saved through his
works,
his mercy and grace. And what
does he require? “Wherefore, Father, spare these
my brethren that believe
on my name, that they may come unto me and have
everlasting life” (D&C
45:3–5).
What a
person trusts in, what he or she relies on—these are excellent
indicators
of spiritual maturity. Like the infant who grasps and clings to
objects with
selfish immaturity, we are prone to be stingy with our lives, to
insist on
doing things our way, to chart a course that we want to pursue, to
demand
complete control. While we labor in the flesh, we are subject to a
kind of mortal
myopia, a tragic shortsightedness in regard to eternal things.
Yet, in
our heart of hearts we know that God’s ways are higher than
ours and his
thoughts and judgment so much grander than our own (Isaiah
55:8–9). The
Prophet Joseph Smith wrote from Liberty Jail: “The things of
God are of deep
import; and time, and experience, and careful and
ponderous and solemn thoughts
can only find them out. Thy mind, O man!
if thou wilt lead a soul unto
salvation [in this case, our own], must stretch as
high as the utmost heavens,
and search into and contemplate the darkest
abyss, and the broad expanse of
eternity—thou must commune with God.
How much more dignified and noble
are the thoughts of God, than the vain
imaginations of the human heart! None
but fools will trifle with the souls of
men.”1
We know
that the wise course is to allow the Captain of our soul to
have sway, that he
can make us into new creatures far beyond anything we
might bring about in our
own limited and halting manner. President Ezra
Taft Benson declared: “Men and
women who turn their lives over to God
will discover that He can make a lot
more out of their lives than they can.
He will deepen their joys, expand their
vision, quicken their minds,
strengthen their muscles, lift their spirits,
multiply their blessings, increase
their opportunities, comfort their souls,
raise up friends, and pour out
peace.”2
It is
through the atoning grace of Christ that we are liberated from
skewed
perceptions, through the transforming powers of the Holy One of
Israel that we
become holy and thus able to see things as they really are. As
we reach up to
grasp the hand of him who has all things in his power, we
thereby tighten our
grasp on eternal life and begin the process of spiritual
growth.
Peace
and strength here and salvation and eternal life hereafter come
through the
merits of Christ. Lehi explained to his son Jacob: “Wherefore, I
know that thou
art redeemed” (2 Nephi 2:3). Why was he redeemed? We
know that he was faithful,
just like his brother Nephi. We know that he saw
the Lord, as did Nephi and
Isaiah (2 Nephi 11:3). In short, Jacob was an
obedient man, one who hearkened
to the words of God and his servants. But
that isn’t why Jacob was redeemed.
The full sentence tells us: “Wherefore, I
know that thou art redeemed, because of the
righteousness of thy
Redeemer” (2 Nephi 2:3; emphasis added). Jacob was bound for
glory
because of the goodness of Jesus!
Lehi
went on to teach Jacob that “there is no flesh that can dwell in the
presence
of God, save it be through the merits, and mercy, and grace of the
Holy
Messiah” (2 Nephi 2:8). A converted Lamanite king exulted to his
people “that
[God] hath granted unto us that we might repent of these
things, and also that
he hath forgiven us of those our many sins and murders
which we have committed,
and taken away the guilt from our hearts,
through the merits of his Son” (Alma 24:10; emphasis added).
Samuel the
Lamanite likewise called upon the sinful Nephites to believe on the
name of
Jesus Christ: “And if ye believe on his name ye will repent of all your
sins,
that thereby ye may have a remission of them through his merits” (Helaman
14:13; emphasis
added). Truly, we go into the world and preach the
message of salvation to our
brothers and sisters “that they may believe the
gospel and rely upon the
merits of Jesus Christ, and be glorified through
faith in his name, and that
through their repentance they might be saved”
(D&C 3:20; emphasis added).
As
followers of the Christ, we strive with all of our hearts to be
righteous. Those
who have tasted of the heavenly gift and enjoyed the sweet
fruits of gospel
living want more than anything to be holy people. But we
fall short. We make
mistakes. We sin. And so we are not completely
righteous. To put it another
way, we are not, as a result of our own actions,
just.
Theoretically,
there are two ways a person could be just—meaning
declared, or esteemed,
innocent, guiltless, free from the demands of divine
justice. First, he could
live his life perfectly, never taking a backward step,
never deviating one
inch from the strait and narrow path. In such a case, it
could be said of that
person that he was justified by law or by works. It
would be a glorious thing
to be in such a state, would it not? The problem is
that such a situation is purely
hypothetical, for no one—not the greatest
prophet or the mightiest
apostle—has ever traveled life’s paths without
error or sin of some kind.
It may be possible hypothetically, but it is
impossible practically. That is
what the prophets through the ages meant
when they taught that “by the law no
flesh is justified” (2 Nephi 2:5;
compare Romans 3:20; Galatians 2:16).
The
apostle Paul warned the Saints in his day about trying to establish
their own
righteousness, as the Jews had sought to do through their strict
observance of
the law of Moses: “Brethren, my heart’s desire and prayer to
God for Israel is,
that they might be saved. For I bear them record that they
have a zeal of God,
but not according to knowledge. For they being
ignorant of God’s righteousness,
and going about to establish their own
righteousness, have not submitted
themselves unto the righteousness of
God. For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness
to every one that
believeth” (Romans 10:1–4; emphasis added). In the
ultimate sense, as
Jesus taught the lawyer, “there is none good but one, that
is, God” (Matthew
19:17).
God is
perfectly righteous and just, and we measure and assess all other
righteousness
by his perfect standard. Paul put his own remarkable
accomplishments and
earthly attainments into perspective when he wrote:
“I count all things but
loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ
Jesus my Lord: for whom I
have suffered the loss of all things, and do count
them but dung, that I may
win Christ, and be found in him, not having mine
own righteousness, which is of
the law, but that which is through the faith
of Christ, the righteousness which
is of God by faith” (Philippians 3:8–9).
This
statement by Paul points toward the second way that we may
become just—by
faith. Faith is the complete trust, confidence in, and
reliance upon the
merits, mercy, and grace of Jesus Christ for salvation. It is
a gift of the
Spirit (Moroni 10:11), a divine endowment that affirms to the
human heart the
identity of the Savior and his redemptive mission. Though
we might speak of
faith in a broad sense as the underlying reason why
people live and move and go
about their daily activities, the faith of which
the scriptures speak,
especially the Book of Mormon, is faith in the Lord
Jesus Christ.
As we
have noted, because of the Fall, man is alienated from the Father
and from
things of righteousness; he is subject to spiritual death (Alma
12:16, 32;
42:9). No matter how noble his own efforts to overcome spiritual
death, to love
and serve others, or to keep the commandments of God, man
will forevermore fall
short of the divine standard. His works, though
acceptable to God, will always
be insufficient to save him (2 Nephi 25:23).
In short, had there been no means of bridging the chasm
between sinful
man and a sinless God, nothing that man could do would make up
for the
loss. Thus, there is a need for some means to reconcile finite man with
infinite Deity, to repair the breach between earth and the heavens. Because
“all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23), man
cannot
be justified by law or by works. Man’s only option is to be justified
by faith,
to lean upon One who did in fact keep the law of God perfectly. It
is only
through the name of Jesus Christ—meaning his power or authority,
his
atoning mission and work—that salvation comes to the children of men
(Acts 4:12; 2 Nephi 9:24; Mosiah 3:17; 26:22; Alma 22:13; Helaman
14:13). In
the words of Amulek, the atonement of Christ “bringeth about
means unto men
that they may have faith unto repentance” (Alma 34:15).
Jesus
“was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin”
(Hebrews 4:15). He
“did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth” (1
Peter 2:22). Thus, Jesus,
the great High Priest of our profession, “needeth
not offer sacrifice for his
own sins, for he knew no sins” (JST Hebrews
7:26).
“I do
not think there have been many good men on the earth since the
days of Adam,”
Joseph Smith declared, “but there was one good man and
his name was Jesus.”3 The Prophet also taught: “Who,
among all the Saints
in these last days can consider himself as good as our
Lord? Who is as
perfect? Who is as pure? Who is as holy as He was? Are they to
be found?
He never transgressed or broke a commandment or law of
heaven—no
deceit was in His mouth, neither was guile found in His heart.”4 And
finally, said Brother
Joseph: “Where is the man that is free from vanity?
None ever were perfect but
Jesus; and why was He perfect? Because He
was the Son of God, and had the
fullness of the Spirit, and greater power
than any man.”5 For this reason the Master could
speak of his own
righteousness and observe that “the prince of darkness, who is
of this world,
cometh, but hath no power over me” (JST John 14:30).
At the
time of the organization of the Church, Joseph Smith recorded
the following
revelation: “And we know that all men must repent and
believe on the name of
Jesus Christ, and worship the Father in his name,
and endure in faith on his
name to the end, or they cannot be saved in the
kingdom of God.” Now note these
words: “And we know that justification
through the grace of our Lord and Savior
Jesus Christ is just and true; and
we know also that sanctification through the
grace of our Lord and Savior
Jesus Christ is just and true, to all those who
love and serve God with all
their mights, minds, and strength” (D&C
20:29–31).
Elder D.
Todd Christofferson pointed out that “justification and
sanctification are at
the center of God’s gracious plan of salvation.” In
speaking of justification,
he wrote that “pardon comes by the grace of Him
who has satisfied the demands
of justice by His own suffering, ‘the just for
the unjust, that he might bring
us to God’ (1 Peter 3:18). He removes our
condemnation without removing the
law. We are pardoned and placed in a
condition of righteousness with Him. We
become, like Him, without sin.
We are sustained and protected by the law, by
justice. We are, in a word,
justified. Thus, we may appropriately speak of one who is
justified as
pardoned, without sin, or guiltless.”6
Sidney
B. Sperry wrote a half century ago that “justification seems to
anticipate for
a Christian a decision of ‘acquittal’ or of being regarded as
‘righteous’ in a
future divine judgment. Can a member of the Church of
Christ be regarded in the
present time as being justified by faith? If he has
truly been ‘born again’ of
the Spirit and continues in a newness of life, we
may answer ‘yes.’ In
anticipation of his continued observance of the
requirements of God, he may be
regarded as ‘acquitted’ or as ‘righteous,’
and so is in Divine favor. A
comparison may be made by reference to a man
on an escalator. We anticipate
that he will reach a given floor if he stays on
the escalator. So a person will
eventually be justified, but may be regarded
as being so now, if he retains a
remission of sins (Mosiah 4:26) and
continually shows his faith in God.”7
Elder
Christofferson explained that “to be sanctified through the blood
of Christ is
to become clean, pure, and holy. If justification removes the
punishment for
past sin, then sanctification removes the stain or effects of
sin.
. . . This marvelous pardon that relieves us of the punishment that
justice would otherwise exact for disobedience and the purifying
sanctification
that follows are best described as gifts. . . . Given the
magnitude
of the gift of grace, we would never suppose, even with all the
good we could
possibly do in this life, that we had earned it. It is just too
great.”8
To say
this another way, justification is a legal term; being justified
establishes my
righteous standing before God. On the other hand,
sanctification is an
ongoing work of the Holy Spirit, one that deals with the
gradual purification
of my state. Elder B. H. Roberts taught that the
forgiven soul may still continue to “feel the
force of sinful habits bearing
heavily upon him. He who has been guilty of
habitual untruthfulness, will at
times find himself inclined, perhaps, to yield
to that habit. He who has
stolen may be sorely tempted, when opportunity
arises, to steal again.
While he who has indulged in licentious practices may
again find himself
disposed to give way to the seductive influence of the
siren. So with
drunkenness, malice, envy, covetousness, hatred, anger, and in
short all the
evil dispositions that flesh is heir to.
“There
is an absolute necessity for some additional sanctifying grace
that will
strengthen poor human nature, not only to enable it to resist
temptation, but
also to root out from the heart concupiscence—the blind
tendency or
inclination to evil. The heart must be purified, every passion,
every
propensity made submissive to the will, and the will of man brought
into
subjection to the will of God.
“Man’s
natural powers are unequal to this task; so, I believe, all will
testify who
have made the experiment. Mankind stand in some need of a
strength superior to
any they possess of themselves, to accomplish this
work of rendering pure our fallen nature. Such
strength, such power, such a
sanctifying grace is conferred on man in being
born of the Spirit—in
receiving the Holy Ghost. Such, in the main, is its
office, its work.”9
In our
dispensation the Savior said: “For what doth it profit a man if a
gift is
bestowed upon him, and he receive not the gift? Behold, he rejoices
not in that
which is given unto him, neither rejoices in him who is the giver
of the gift”
(D&C 88:33). Thus, while Latter-day Saints speak of being
justified and sanctified through the mercy of God, yet we believe that such
gifts must be received, must be accessed. Receiving these gifts comes
through the
first principles and ordinances of the gospel—faith in Jesus
Christ,
repentance, baptism, and the receipt of the Holy Ghost by the laying
on of
hands. Joseph Smith also called these the “articles of adoption,” the
means by
which men and women are adopted into the family of the Lord
Jesus Christ.10 In a very real sense,
repentance, baptism, and confirmation
are the effects that flow from saving
faith.
Elder
Orson Pratt wrote: “Faith alone will not save men: neither will
faith and works
save them, unless they are of the right kind. . . . The first
effect
of a true faith is a sincere, true, and thorough repentance of all sins;
the
second effect is an immersion in water, for the remission of sins; the
third is
the reception of the ordinance of the laying on of the hands for the
baptism of
the Holy Ghost: these are the first commandments in the Gospel.
No man has a
saving faith without attending to these three requirements. . . .
Indeed these are the introductory principles, and the only principles by
which
men and women can be born into the kingdom of Christ, and become
his sons and
daughters. . . .
“A
faith, then, that brings remission of sins or justification to the
sinner, is
that which is connected with repentance and baptism. Faith alone
will not
justify; faith and repentance alone will not justify; faith and
baptism alone
will not justify; but faith, repentance, and baptism will justify
and bring
remission of sins through the blood of Christ. What does Paul
mean when he
says, ‘Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with
God, through our
Lord Jesus Christ’? He means that faith is the starting
point—the
foundation and cause of our repentance and baptism which bring
remission or
justification; and being the cause which leads to those results,
it is not
improper to impute justification to faith.”
And
then, in commenting on the apostle Paul’s teaching that “by grace
are [we]
saved” in Ephesians 2, Elder Pratt explained: “We are to
understand from these
passages, that the grace and faith by which man is
saved, are the gifts of God,
having been purchased for him not by his own
works, but by the blood of Christ.
Had not these gifts been purchased for
man, all exertions on his part would
have been entirely unavailing and
fruitless. Whatever course man might have
pursued, he could not have
atoned for one sin; it required the sacrifice of a
sinless and pure Being in
order to purchase the gifts of faith, repentance, and
salvation for fallen man.
Grace, Faith, Repentance, and Salvation, when
considered in their origin,
are not of man, neither by his works; man did not
devise, originate, nor
adopt them; superior Beings in Celestial abodes,
provided these gifts, and
revealed the conditions to man by which he might
become a partaker of
them. Therefore all boasting on the part of man is
excluded. He is saved by
a plan which his works did not originate—a plan
of heaven, and not of
earth.”11
In
short, as we have faith, repent, and are baptized, we are justified
before God.
Thereafter, by virtue of the Atonement as well as the baptism
which has taken
place—the baptism being an outward symbol of our ready
acceptance of the
Atonement—we may plead for forgiveness and receive
from God a
remission of sins. We readily acknowledge that “none of us, of
course, is
perfectly obedient, and thus we rely on our baptismal covenant to
bring a
remission of sins after baptism just as it has done for our lives
before
baptism. We rely on repentance to reinvigorate that covenant [or
renew it], to
bring the Holy Spirit and, with it, atoning grace. The process of
cleansing and
sanctifying through the baptisms of water and of the Holy
Ghost can be
continued weekly as we worthily partake of the sacrament of
the Lord’s Supper.”12 To be sure, the ordinance of
baptism does not forgive
sins or save us, nor does partaking of the emblems of
the Savior’s broken
body and spilt blood, for salvation is in Christ the
Person. Rather, baptism
and the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper are channels of
divine power that
help to activate the power of God.
In a sense,
a person is sanctified at the time he or she enters the
kingdom of God through
baptism. The initiate is cleansed of sin and
accounted a Saint, a sanctified
one, a member of Christ’s Church (1
Corinthians 1:2). At the same time, the
process of sanctification goes
forward for the rest of one’s life. Brigham
Young explained that
sanctification “consists in overcoming every sin and
bringing all in
subjection to the law of Christ. God has placed in us a pure
spirit; when this
reigns predominant, without let or hindrance, and triumphs
over the flesh
and rules and governs and controls as the Lord controls the
heavens and the
earth, this I call the blessing of sanctification.”13
The
matter of being justified by faith in Christ is, to be sure, deep and
profound.
For some it is difficult to fathom. One writer, John MacArthur,
used an analogy
to explain it: “When I was married, . . . Patricia and I stood
before
the minister (my father) and recited our vows. Near the end of the
ceremony, my
father declared, ‘By the authority vested in me by the state of
California, I
now pronounce you man and wife.’ Instantly we were legally
husband and wife.
Whereas seconds before we had been an engaged couple,
now we were married.
Nothing inside us actually changed when those
words were spoken. But our status
changed before God, the law, and our
family and friends. The implications of
that simple declaration have been
lifelong and life-changing (for
which I am grateful). But when my father
spoke those words, it was a legal
declaration only.
“Similarly,
when a jury foreman reads the verdict, the defendant is no
longer ‘the
accused.’ Legally and officially he instantly becomes either
guilty or
innocent—depending on the verdict. Nothing in his actual nature
changes,
but if he is found not guilty he will walk out of court a free man in
the eyes
of the law, fully justified.
“In
biblical terms, justification is a divine verdict of ‘not guilty—fully
righteous.’ It is the reversal of God’s attitude toward the sinner. Whereas He
formerly condemned, He now vindicates. Although the sinner once lived
under
God’s wrath, as a believer he or she is now under God’s blessing.
Justification
is more than simple pardon; pardon alone would still leave the
sinner without
merit before God. So when God justifies He imputes [places
on the account]
divine righteousness to the sinner (Romans 4:22–25).
Christ’s own
infinite merit thus becomes the ground on which the believer
stands before God
(Romans 5:19; 1 Corinthians 1:30; Philippians 3:9). So
justification elevates
the believer to a realm of full acceptance and divine
privilege in Jesus
Christ.”14
This is
why some people have been led to describe the work of
Atonement as essentially
“the great exchange.” Paul wrote: “For he [God
the Father] hath made him
[Christ the Son] to be sin for us, who knew no
sin; that we might be made the
righteousness of God in him” (2 Corinthians
5:21). “Christ hath redeemed us
from the curse of the law, being made a
curse for us” (Galatians 3:13). “But we
see Jesus, who was made a little
lower than the angels for the suffering of
death, crowned with glory and
honour; that he by the grace of God should taste
death for every man”
(Hebrews 2:9).
Imagine
that you are an old, worn, and weather-beaten bucket filled
with
slimy water. Life for a such a bucket is rough at worst and dull at best.
You
serve little useful function: no one wants your water, and no one has
any use
for such a dirty container. But eventually a kind soul comes along,
surveys the situation, and
comments to a friend that he foresees some
usefulness yet in the old bucket, at
least after a major cleanup. He offers a
healthy sum to the owner and acquires
the bucket. On Saturday morning the
work begins in earnest. First of all, the
new owner dumps out the dirty
water. Then he begins to scour and scrub the
bucket, using steel wool and
astringent. It hurts abominably! You had not
anticipated that being cleaned
up and renovated would be so painful. But after
several hours, you are
clean, shiny, and ready for use. The owner washes and
dries his hands,
smiles at his accomplishment, and invites his friend over to
see what is
essentially a new bucket. They both marvel at just how attractive
the
renewed container is. You begin to feel appreciation for the vision and
perspective of the owner, even though there were some tough moments
during the
rigorous cleaning process. You are now ready to be used. You are
shiny and
clean. The owner places you under the faucet and fills you with
fresh, clean
water.
In a
way, the very identity of the bucket has changed as a result of the
goodness
and work of the new owner. Consider another analogy: “Let’s
imagine that a king
made a decree in his land that there would be a blanket
pardon extended to all
prostitutes. Would that be good news to you if you
were a prostitute?
“Of
course it would. No longer would you have to live in hiding,
fearing the
sheriff. No longer would you have a criminal record; all past
offenses would be
wiped off the books. So the pardon would definitely be
good news. But would it
be any motivation at all for you to change your
lifestyle? No, not a bit.
“But
let’s go a little further with our illustration. Let’s say that not only
is a
blanket pardon extended to all prostitutes, but also the king has asked
you in
particular to become his bride.
“What
happens when a prostitute marries a king? She becomes a
queen. Now would you
have a reason for a change of lifestyle? Absolutely.
It doesn’t take a genius
to realize that the lifestyle of a queen is several
levels superior to that of
a prostitute. No woman in her right mind would go
back to her previous
life. . . .
“The
gospel message is in effect a marriage proposal. And just as the
prostitute
became a queen by marrying the king, guilty sinners have become
part of the
church, the betrothed of Christ. What a great change of identity
—to be
elevated from a life of sin to a life of royalty.
“When we
understand this love relationship and appreciate our new
identity as the Bride
of Christ, our motivation will change—and it’s a
change that comes from
within as we learn to love our betrothed more fully.
“When we
understand that not only has blanket forgiveness been
extended to us for our
sins, but that we’ve also been offered a new identity
as part of the Bride of
Christ, our actions will change to correspond to our
new identity.”15
We focus
regularly, as we ought, on the truth that Jesus Christ came to
earth to die for us. This truth is
foundational to our faith. Equally important
is that the Son of God desires to live in us. He does so through the
power of
his Holy Spirit. Fundamental to the new life in Christ is being
cleansed and
forgiven. But also vital is being filled. The same Lord who purifies our
souls fills our souls—he provides
strength and energy and a new heart.
Truly, as
Habakkuk wrote and as Paul affirmed, “the just shall live by
his faith”
(Habakkuk 2:4; Romans 1:17; Galatians 3:11; Hebrews 10:38).
Jacob added the
sobering thought that God commands “all men that they
must repent, and be
baptized in his name, having perfect faith in the Holy
One of Israel, or
they cannot be saved in the kingdom of God” (2 Nephi
9:23; emphasis added).
Perfect
faith. Perfect faith! Do you know anyone who has perfect faith?
I believe that Jacob
was teaching that our complete trust, confidence, and
reliance must be in the
Savior. We cannot build our houses of faith upon the
works and merits of any
mortal—especially ourselves. Why? Because as
noble and good as people may
be at a given time, they are human. They
make mistakes. They fall short. Other
people will inevitably, despite the
best of intentions, let us down at one time
or another. But not the Lord. Our
trust in him is well founded, for he is perfect. Our confidence in him is
appropriate, for he possesses all
of the attributes of godliness in their
perfection. “Therefore being justified
by faith, we have peace with God
through our Lord Jesus Christ” (Romans 5:1).
Understood
in that light, it is not self-esteem but rather
Christ-esteem
that will cradle us in the midst of sorrow and carry us
through the trials and
struggles of this life. “God is my friend,” Joseph Smith
wrote to his wife,
Emma, at a difficult time. “In him I shall find comfort. I
have given my life
into his hands. I am prepared to go at his call. I desire to
be with Christ. I
count not my life dear to me, only to do his will.”16
In his
enlightening and inimitable style, C. S. Lewis wrote: “At first it
is natural
for a baby to take its mother’s milk without knowing its mother. It
is equally
natural for us to see the man who helps us without seeing Christ
behind him.
But we must not remain babies. We must go on to recognise the
real Giver. It is
madness not to. Because, if we do not, we shall be relying
on human beings. And
that is going to let us down. The best of them will
make mistakes; all of them
will die. We must be thankful to all the people
who have helped us, we must
honour them and love them. But never, never
pin your whole faith on any human
being: not if he is the best and wisest in
the whole world. There are lots of
nice things you can do with sand; but do
not try building a house on it.”17
King
Benjamin’s counsel on retaining a remission of sins is related to
the doctrine
of being justified, or standing approved, before the Lord. It is
necessary to
live in a state of divine indebtedness, in a condition of always
acknowledging
the goodness and greatness of God as well as our utter
helplessness without
him. Inextricably linked to this truth is the need to love
and serve others,
particularly those in need. That is how we “remain
guiltless” before God
(Mosiah 4:25). Joseph Smith explained: “To be
justified before God we must love
one another: we must overcome evil; we
must visit the fatherless and the widow
in their affliction, and we must keep
ourselves unspotted from the world: for
such virtues flow from the great
fountain of pure religion, strengthening our
faith by adding every good
quality that adorns the children of the blessed
Jesus.”18
In the
spirit of divine indebtedness, we must remember that as God’s
peculiar people,
we are a purchased people; we are not our own. We have
been bought
back, purchased, redeemed by the precious blood of Christ (1
Corinthians
6:19–20; 7:23; 1 Peter 1:18). It is “the blood that maketh an
atonement
for the soul” (Leviticus 17:11). “Our salvation depends on
believing in and
accepting the Atonement,” President James E. Faust
declared. “Such acceptance
requires a continual effort to understand it more
fully. The Atonement advances
our mortal course of learning by making it
possible for our natures to become
perfect. All of us have sinned and need
to repent to fully pay our part of the debt. When we
sincerely repent, the
Savior’s magnificent Atonement pays the rest of that debt.”19
The
worth of souls is great, for “the Lord your Redeemer suffered
death in the
flesh; wherefore he suffered the pain of all men, that all men
might repent and
come unto him. And he hath risen again from the dead,
that he might bring all
men unto him, on conditions of repentance. And how
great is his joy in the soul
that repenteth!” (D&C 18:10–13). Truly, as
someone has wisely
observed, the word grace may be considered an
acronym for God’s Riches At Christ’s Expense.20
Lean on my ample
arm,
O thou depressed!
And I will bid the

storm
Cease in thy
breast.
Whate’er thy lot

may be
On life’s
complaining sea,
If thou wilt come

to me,
Thou shalt have

rest.
Lift up thy
tearful eyes,
Sad heart, to
me;
I am the sacrifice
Offered for
thee.
In me thy pain
shall cease,
In me is thy
release,
In me thou shalt
have peace
Eternally.21
Notes
^1.
Joseph Smith, 137.
^2.
2. Benson, Teachings of Ezra Taft
Benson, 361.
^3.
Joseph Smith, 303.
^4.
Joseph Smith, 67; see also 266.
^5.
Joseph Smith, 187–88.
^6.
6. Christofferson, “Justification and
Sanctification,” 18, 20.
^7.
7. Sperry, Paul’s Life and Letters, 176.
^8.
Sanctification,” 22.
^9.
9. Roberts, Gospel and Man’s
Relationship to Deity, 170; emphasis
added.
^10.
Joseph Smith, 328; Pratt, Orson
Pratt’s Works, 48.
^11.
11. Pratt, True Faith, 3–9; Pratt, Orson Pratt’s Works, 51.
^12.
Sanctification,” 24.
^13.
^14.
14. MacArthur, Faith Works, 89–90.
^15.
15. George, Grace Stories, 118–19.
^16.
16. Smith, Personal Writings of
Joseph Smith, 264–65; punctuation
standardized.
^17.
17. Lewis, Mere Christianity, 165.
^18.
Joseph Smith, 76.
^19.
19. Faust, Conference Report, October
2001, 19; emphasis in original.
^20.
20. MacArthur, Faith Works, 57.
^21.
21. “Lean on My Ample Arm,” Hymns, 1985, no. 120.
V
His Enabling Power
At the beginning of a stake presidency meeting some years ago, the

stake president read aloud a letter from a young woman in one of the wards.
I
knew her very well because I had served for a time as her bishop. She and
her
husband were the parents of three beautiful little girls. The mother,
whom I
will here call Janice, was active and involved in everything. She
worked
faithfully in Young Women, was always the life of the party at ward
socials,
and sought out opportunities to contribute to parent-teacher
functions, civic issues, and community affairs. “Go, go, go” was her motto.
The
stake president read us her letter, which said simply:
“Dear
President:
“I want
to do everything the Lord has asked me to do. I want to do
everything the
Church has asked me to do. In order to do so, I decided to
make a list of the
things that I have been asked to do in the Church during
the last six months. A
copy of the list is enclosed.”
Then
followed about three pages of items. It was quite an imposing list.
She
ended with, “I have only one question—HOW?” She signed the
letter,
“Dejectedly, Janice.”
The
stake president turned to his first counselor. “Ted, isn’t that
unfortunate?”
Ted
nodded soberly.
The
president turned to me. “Bob, does this letter get to your heart the
way it
gets to mine?”
I
answered that it surely did.
“Good,”
he responded. “I want you to deal with it.”
“What
would you like me to do?” I gulped.
“Just
meet with her for a few minutes and see if you can help her.”
I agreed
and made the appointment. What I had thought would be a
brief pep talk turned
out to be a rather lengthy meeting. I listened as Janice
poured out her
concerns for more than two hours. It was a very intense,
emotional meeting. Her
concluding statement went something like this: “I
just can’t do it all. I can’t
be the perfect mother, the perfect wife, the perfect
Church leader, the perfect
citizen. I’m tired. In fact, I’m worn out. I tell you,
I just can’t do it all!”
I think
I startled her a bit when I said, “I know. I can’t either.”
Janice
looked at me with suspicion. “You admit that?” she asked.
“I admit
that,” I replied.
“Would
you admit it in public?”
I said I
would.
“Would
you admit it in stake conference?”
I
thought for a second. “Yes, I’d be happy to talk about it in a stake
conference.” (And I did address this matter in my talk in stake conference a
few weeks later.)
Then
Janice asked, “How do you deal with the guilt?”
My
response surprised her again. “I don’t have any, at least not over all
the
things I just can’t get to.”
I will
forego the remainder of our discussion, but I think she left our
meeting with a
different view of things—she seemed to be at peace.
A young
woman, a sixteen-year-old we’ll call Sarah, became aware
that she had
unkind feelings toward a member of her Laurel class. She had
been raised in the
Church, had been active and involved all her young life,
and was well taught.
She determined upon a plan to solve her problem. She
would get up an hour
earlier each morning and stay up an hour later each
night reading the Book of
Mormon. This she did religiously for three
months. At the end of that time she
discovered, to her surprise and
disappointment, that she still harbored unkind
feelings toward the other
young woman.
“Well,”
she concluded, “since that didn’t work, I’ll multiply my efforts.
I’ll get up
two hours earlier in the morning and stay up two hours later at
night reading
the Book of Mormon, I’ll fast at least two times a week, and
I’ll volunteer at
the temple one day a week.”
At the
end of six months Sarah realized that she had read the Book of
Mormon through
twice and had lost a good deal of weight, but, sadly, she
still had unkind
feelings toward her classmate.
She
cried out, “Why? Why doesn’t my hard work count? Why can’t I
solve this
problem?”
Why,
indeed? Why wouldn’t Sarah’s problems be solved through her
superhuman efforts?
Why would Janice (and thousands of others like her)
labor in guilt over all the
things she couldn’t get around to?
Though
each of us is different and has unique challenges and strengths,
there is one
problem to which most of us are susceptible, one that often
keeps us from
enjoying the peace and comfort followers of Christ ought to
enjoy. I fear that
one of the reasons we have feelings like those Janice and
Sarah
had—feelings that we just don’t measure up, feelings that no matter
how
much we do, it isn’t enough—is because of our failure to trust in the
Lord and rely on him. We live in a culture in which excellence and success
and
victory are drilled into us from the time we are old enough to take part
in
society. Such words as submission and surrender are almost foreign to
our way of
life. But, in truth, submission is absolutely necessary if we are to
be happy;
surrender is vital if we are to be at peace. Christ invites his
disciples to
submit to him, to have an eye single to his glory (D&C 88:67),
to yield
their hearts to him (Helaman 3:35). Christ invites his disciples to
surrender,
to lay down their mortal weapons and acknowledge his Lordship.
As we are able
to trust in the Master—to trust in his time frame, his way of
life, his
vision of what is best for us—we mature in our faith.
Without
such trust in the Lord, without relinquishing our own
stranglehold on life, we
will probably work ourselves into a frenzy of
spiritual and physical
exhaustion, doing all the right things but feeling little
pleasure in them. In
short, we may find ourselves simply going through the
motions.
One
Christian writer used the following story to illustrate this point:
“Imagine
yourself in a large house, in which are living both deaf and
hearing people.
They are all mixed together, and you can’t tell by looking
who is deaf and who
has hearing. Sitting in a room by himself is a man. As
you watch, you notice that
he is tapping his toes rhythmically and snapping
his fingers in time. You know
what is happening. He’s listening to music,
and obviously enjoying himself. His
whole body wants to respond to what
his ears are receiving. There’s nothing
strange or mysterious about it.
“But
now, let’s add a new person to the scene. One of the deaf persons
opens the
door and enters the room. He immediately sees the first man and
walks over to
him and smiles a greeting. The deaf man watches the music-
lover for a
few moments. ‘He sure seems to be enjoying himself,’ he thinks.
‘I think I’ll
try it too.’ So the deaf man sits next to the first man and begins
to imitate
him. Awkwardly and haltingly at first, he tries to snap his fingers,
tap his
toes, and move like the person next to him. Everybody has some
sense of rhythm,
whether they can hear or not. After a little practice, the
deaf man is snapping
and tapping in time with the first man. He even smiles
a little and shrugs:
‘It’s not that much fun,’ he thinks, ‘but it’s okay.’
“Let’s
now add our final factor to the story. A third man walks into the
room. What
does he see? Two men, apparently doing the same thing. But is
there a difference?
Absolutely! All the difference in the world! The first
man’s actions are
natural responses to the music he hears. The deaf man is
only imitating those outward actions—even
though he can’t hear a note.”1
So often we end up going through
the motions—performing the
appropriate labors but not enjoying them,
doing the right things but having
to grit our teeth and force ourselves to do
them—because we are trying to
do good works against a will that has not
been fully surrendered or
spiritually transformed.
Please don’t misunderstand me.
It’s always better to do the right thing,
even for the wrong reason, than to do
the wrong thing. I’ve heard people
say, “It would be better to stay home from
church than to go to church,
given the way I feel!” Not really. It’s better to
go to church. There is a better
and higher motivation, however, one that is
above and beyond self-
discipline, well beyond sheer willpower and
dogged determination. It is a
motivation born of the Spirit, one that comes to
us as a result of a change of
heart.
Through
the atonement of Christ, we can do more than enjoy a change
of behavior. We
have our nature changed. “Therefore, if any man be in
Christ, he is a new creature: old
things are passed away; behold all things
are become new” (2 Corinthians 5:17). Isn’t that what King Benjamin was
taught by the
angel—that the natural man is an enemy to God and will stay
that way
unless and until he yields himself to the enticings of the Holy
Spirit? (Mosiah
3:19).
John
Stott wrote: “We may be quite sure that Christ-centredness and
Christ-likeness will never be attained by our own unaided efforts.
How can
self drive out self? As well expect Satan to drive out Satan! For we
are not
interested in skin-deep holiness, in a merely external
resemblance to Jesus
Christ. We are not satisfied by a superficial modification
of behavior
patterns in conformity to some Christian sub-culture
which expects this,
commands that and prohibits the other. No, what we long for
is a deep
inward change of character, resulting from a change of nature and
leading to
a radical change of conduct. In a word we want to be like Christ, and that
thoroughly,
profoundly, entirely. Nothing less than this will do.”2
Elder
Glenn Pace put it this way: “We should all be striving for a
disposition to do
no evil, but to do good continually. This isn’t a resolve or
a discipline; it
is a disposition. We do things because we want to, not just
because we know we
should. . . .
“Sometimes
we overlook the fact that a spiritual transformation or
metamorphosis must take
place within us. It comes about through grace and
by the Spirit of God,
although it does not come about until we have truly
repented and proven
ourselves worthy. We can be guilty of being so careful
to live the letter of
the law that we don’t develop our inner spiritual nature
and
fine-tune our spiritual communication to the point that we may
receive
sanctification and purification. My conclusion is that we will not be
saved
by works if those works are not born of a disposition to do good, as
opposed to an obligation to do good.”3
“The Lord works from the inside
out,” President Ezra Taft Benson
testified. “The world works from the outside
in. The world would take
people out of the slums. Christ takes the slums out of
people, and then they
take themselves out of the slums. The world would mold
men by changing
their environment. Christ changes men, who then change their
environment.
The world would shape human behavior, but Christ can change human
nature. . . .
“Yes, Christ changes men, and
changed men can change the world.
“Men changed for Christ will be
captained by Christ. . . .
“Finally, men captained by
Christ will be consumed in Christ.”4
Consider
this rather strange analogy. Imagine that you are standing in a
baptismal font
filled with water up to your waist. A man in authority
empties a large
container into the font, and now you have a hundred Ping-
Pong balls floating in
the font with you.
The man
speaks. “I hold the keys to your salvation. I’ll make a deal
with you: if you
can submerge all one hundred Ping-Pong balls at the same
time, your salvation
in the highest heaven is secured.”
You
reflect on the task for a moment. “I’ll take the offer. Just give me a
few
moments.” You think to yourself, This should be a snap! I’m capable,
competent, coordinated, and in excellent physical condition. I can do it!
You
begin. You manage to submerge ten, then twenty, and then thirty
Ping-Pong balls
using only your hands. Then several of the balls pop back
up. That’s okay, you think. I was only using my
hands anyway.
You now
go about the task in a serious way, using your arms and
elbows and chin and
legs and feet. Sixty, seventy, eighty, and then pop! Up
come ten formerly
submerged balls.
That’s
all right,
you say to yourself. Don’t panic. I can do this. I’ve
certainly handled
tougher situations than this.
Over and
over and over again you attempt to do what eventually
appears to be the
impossible.
In a
sense, our sins are like those Ping-Pong balls. We can go about the
task of
overcoming them one by one, one sin at a time. We can undertake a
Benjamin
Franklin approach to repentance by working on a vice (or a
virtue) for a season
and then move on to the next one. But, to be honest,
most of us don’t have that
much time in this life. Or energy.
The same
is true of performing our assignments and doing everything
else that is expected
of us. We can grit our teeth, tighten our grip on the iron
rod until our
knuckles go white, and hold on for dear life. We can do our
jobs with tenacity
and willpower and discipline. To be sure, a certain
amount of discipline is
associated with discipleship; the Lord expects us to
give him our best shot.
But he does not expect us to do all of this by
ourselves. He has offered to
help us, to strengthen us, to enable us and
empower us. That’s a pretty
generous offer, and we would be foolish to
refuse or ignore it.
Elder
Dallin H. Oaks taught that “the Final Judgment is not just an
evaluation of a
sum total of good and evil acts—what we have done. It is an
acknowledgment of the
final effect of our acts and thoughts—what we have
become. It is not enough for anyone just
to go through the motions. The
commandments, ordinances, and covenants of the
gospel are not a list of
deposits required to be made in some heavenly account.
The gospel of Jesus
Christ is a plan that shows us how to become what our
Heavenly Father
desires us to become. . . .
“We
qualify for eternal life through a process of conversion. As used
here, this word of many
meanings signifies not just a convincing but a
profound change of nature.
. . .
“I hope
the importance of conversion and becoming will cause our
local leaders to
reduce their concentration on statistical measures of actions
and to focus more
on what our brothers and sisters are and what they are
striving to become.”5
The
scriptures are clear on this matter. “I am crucified with Christ,” the
apostle
Paul wrote. “Nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me:
and the
life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of
God, who
loved me, and gave himself for me” (Galatians 2:20). A scripture
that is often
quoted by Latter-day Saints to point up the need for good
works is
also from Paul: “Wherefore, my beloved, as ye have always
obeyed, not as in my
presence only, but now much more in my absence,
work out your own salvation
with fear and trembling” (Philippians 2:12).
We are
called upon to work out our own salvation. How do we do that?
Is it even
possible? We cannot save ourselves; we simply do not have the
power to do so.
But note the next verse: “For it is God which worketh in
you both to will and
to do of his good pleasure” (Philippians 2:13). We have
an obligation to
cooperate with God in the salvation of our souls. While the
ultimate power of
change is in Christ, we can do our part and choose to be
changed.
The
grace of God is not just a final divine boost into celestial glory that
a
gracious Father and benevolent Savior provide at the time of judgment.
We will,
to be sure, require all the help we can get in order to be prepared to
go where
God and angels are and feel comfortable there. At the same time,
grace is
something we have access to every hour of every day of every year.
“True
grace,” as one writer explained, “is more than just a giant freebie,
opening
the door to heaven in the sweet by and by, but leaving us to wallow
in sin in
the bitter here and now. Grace is God presently at work in our
lives.”6
It is
through the grace of God “that individuals, through faith in the
atonement of
Jesus Christ and repentance of their sins, receive strength and
assistance to
do good works that they otherwise would not be able to
maintain if left to
their own means. This grace is an enabling power that
allows men and women to
lay hold on eternal life and exaltation after they
have expended their own best
efforts.”7 The Lord provides for his followers
a strength, an energy, a living
power. It is by this means, by this new life in
Christ, that we do what we
could not do on our own. Paul taught that “being
now justified by [Christ’s]
blood, we shall be saved from wrath through
him. For if, when we were enemies,
we were reconciled to God by the death
of his Son, much more, being reconciled,
we shall be saved by his life”
(Romans 5:9–10).
For many
years I have heard members of the Church, including Church
leaders, speak of
the importance of the fall of Adam and Eve—that it was,
in fact, a
significant part of the Father’s plan; that it was as much a part of
the plan
as the very Atonement; that it was a good thing; that it opened the
door to
mortality and ultimate happiness through the gospel. I have heard at
least a
score of times, “If there had been no Fall, there would have been no
need for
an Atonement.” More than once I have asked myself, “Why would
we want Adam and
Eve to partake of the forbidden fruit and bring about a
fallen condition?
Wouldn’t it have been better if we had never needed an
atonement? I love Jesus
and am deeply grateful for his teachings and
example, but wouldn’t we have been
better off if an atonement hadn’t been
necessary in the first place?”
The
answer is linked to our strong belief that the Fall is one of the
“three
pillars of eternity” and that it has a vital place in the program of
God.8
To put it simply, the Atonement does more than fix the mistakes. It
does more
than balance the scales. It even does more than forgive our sins.
It
rehabilitates, regenerates, renews, and transforms human nature. Christ
makes
us better, worlds better, than we would have been had there been no
Fall.
C. S.
Lewis once wrote that because God saw “that from a world of
free creatures,
even though they fell, He could work out . . . a deeper
happiness and
a fuller splendour than any world of automata [robots, people
who never deviate
from the right way] would admit. . . . Let Man be only
one among a
myriad of rational species, and let him be the only one that has
fallen. Because
he has fallen, for him God does the great deed; just as in the
parable it is
the one lost sheep for whom the shepherd hunts. . . . For this
prodigal the fatted calf, or, to speak more suitably, the eternal Lamb, is
killed. But once the Son of God . . . has put on human nature, then
our
species (whatever it may have been before) does become in one sense the
central fact in all Nature: our species, rising after its long descent, will
drag
all Nature up with it because in our species the Lord of Nature is now
included. And it would be all of a piece with what we already know if
ninety
and nine righteous races inhabiting distant planets that circle distant
suns,
and needing no redemption on their own account, were re-made and
glorified by the glory which had descended into our race. For God is not
merely
mending, nor simply restoring a status quo. Redeemed humanity is
to be
something more glorious than any unfallen race now is (if at this
moment the night sky
conceals any such). The greater the sin, the greater
the mercy: the deeper the
death the brighter the re-birth. And this super-
added glory
will, with true vicariousness, exalt all creatures and those who
have never
fallen will thus bless Adam’s fall.”9
In this
light, I appreciate the perceptive words of Bruce C. Hafen: “I
once wondered if
those who refuse to repent but who then satisfy the law of
justice by paying
for their own sins are then worthy to enter the celestial
kingdom. The answer
is no. The entrance requirements for celestial life are
simply higher than
merely satisfying the law of justice. For that reason,
paying for our sins will
not bear the same fruit as repenting of our sins.
Justice is a law of balance
and order and it must be satisfied, either through
our payment or his. But if
we decline the Savior’s invitation to let him carry
our sins, and then satisfy
justice by ourselves, we will not yet have
experienced the complete
rehabilitation that can occur through a
combination of divine assistance and
genuine repentance. Working together,
those forces have the power permanently
to change our hearts and our lives,
preparing us for celestial life.
. . .
“The
doctrines of mercy and repentance are rehabilitative, not
retributive in
nature. The Savior asks for our repentance not merely to
compensate him for
paying our debt to justice, but also as a way of inducing
us to undergo the process of development that will make our nature divine,
giving us the capacity to live
the celestial law.”10
Trusting
that there may be some value in an application of the doctrinal
principles we
are now considering, allow me to relate a couple of personal
experiences.
During the time following my graduation from high school and
even after my
mission, I had a series of dating experiences that were
extremely painful and
left me quite “gun shy” about developing new
relationships with young women.
And, most crucial to this story, they left
me suspicious about the motives and
intentions and loyalty of women. I
recognize now what a huge overgeneralization
and inappropriate judgment I
had made, but it was there nonetheless: I just
didn’t trust girls.
Seven
months after returning home from my mission, I transferred to
Brigham Young
University. A few weeks before school started, a friend
nudged and coaxed me
into a blind date. It was on this date that I became
acquainted with Shauna,
the woman who later became my wife. We dated
through the next several months
and were eventually married in the Salt
Lake Temple.
The
first year of our marriage was, on the whole, a happy year. I had
little to
complain about. But the biggest roadblock to the complete success
of our
marriage was me. I had a problem: I suffered from jealousy. Having
been burned
a few times and never having recovered fully, I was still
skeptical, still
doubtful, still eager to point out where I thought Shauna was
a bit too
friendly with other men. The difficulty, of course, was that I was
married to a
very loving person, one who was always friendly to people,
male or female. It’s
important at this point to emphasize that Shauna never,
ever did anything out
of line. The problem was mine.
After
several heated discussions in which I had accused her of
ridiculous things, one
day Shauna looked me in the eye and said, “Bob,
have I ever been unfaithful to
you?”
I conceded
that to my knowledge she had not.
“Have I
behaved inappropriately with any man? Have I ever given you
any reason to doubt
my love for you?”
Once
again, I shook my head no.
The
tears ran down her face as she asked a question that went straight
into my heart:
“Then why, why do you torture me this way?”
Something
about her use of the word torture got my attention as
nothing else had before. I
realized, in that solemn and sobering moment,
that unless something changed
within me, something drastic, that I was on
the verge of dismantling the most
significant relationship in my life. Her
words and her tears, like a dagger of
guilt and shame, pierced my soul. Of
course, I had no reply. I said nothing
except, “I’m sorry.”
That
night after prayers, Shauna went to bed. I lay on the bed for a few
moments and
then quietly made my way into the living room of our tiny
apartment. I sat
there for a long time, reflecting on what had gone on and on
what needed to go
on. I knelt and prayed with an intensity I had not
experienced in a long, long
time. I pleaded with God for forgiveness. I
pleaded for a change of heart,
pleaded that those ugly and unchristian
feelings of jealousy and fear and
inadequacy would be taken from me.
Eventually
I returned to bed and slept a few hours before morning
came. In the weeks that
followed, I spent much time on my knees, much
time in the temple, much time in
scripture study. On the one hand, I sought
with all the strength within me to
avoid jealous speech and accusations of
any kind. In short, I tried to keep my
mouth shut, to bite my tongue. But I
knew very well that this was more than a
matter of word control. I needed
to undergo a change of heart.
I don’t
know how the change came or exactly what day it was that I
realized that I
wasn’t jealous any more. But that day did come, and it came
within a matter of
months. I look back on that period of my life with mixed
emotions. I am ashamed
that I was such a painful element in my
sweetheart’s life. I grieve that I was
ever like that. I rejoice that Shauna was
patient enough with me to allow a
change to take place over time. I feel
deep gratitude and awe toward a gracious
and loving Lord who changed me
from the inside out, such that those feelings
seem so foreign now. I am
thankful, more than I can say, for the cleansing
power of his blood, for the
gift of the Holy Ghost that burns sin and
sinfulness out of our souls by fire.
I’m just glad that people can change. The
good news of the gospel is that
we don’t have to stay the same.
Some
time later we moved into a ward in which I found myself
experiencing feelings I
had never felt before. I didn’t like our bishop! He
was a good man, I was sure,
one who was capable enough, one who had
much Church experience. But he
seemed so unfriendly, so cold, so
unapproachable. We had been in the ward
several weeks before I said
something to Shauna about it. She responded that
she didn’t think he was
cold; he seemed like a nice man to her. I concluded
that she simply wasn’t
paying attention. She was naïve.
The
feelings got worse, and I mentioned it a couple more times to my
wife. One
Sunday afternoon, just as she was leaving for a leadership
meeting, she said, “Bob, you’ve got a problem. You had
better deal with
this, or it’s going to canker your soul.” My first reaction
was that she was
overstating the case, but I knew deep down that she was right.
I had to do
something.
Providentially,
Shauna was at her meetings for a few hours, leaving me
alone with my thoughts
and my problem. Reflecting upon my earlier
challenge with jealousy, I
recognized that a similar transformation of my
heart needed to take place.
I prayed, once again, with great intensity. I
confessed my sin to Him who knows
the thoughts and intents of the human
heart. I acknowledged that I could not
make this change on my own. I
realized it was not just a matter of refraining
from speaking evil of the
Lord’s anointed. Mine was an attitude problem that
needed to be rooted out.
Over the next couple of weeks I undertook another
spiritual odyssey to
peace much like my first one.
Again,
in time, things began to change. I remember sitting in sacrament
meeting and
looking up to the stand. I stared at our bishop, and a whole new
set of
feelings came into my heart. I felt compassion for a good man. I felt
gratitude
for an extremely busy man, who because of his particular job had
little free
time but who had accepted a call to serve in a demanding position.
I felt that
the Lord loved him. And then, in a most unexpected manner, I too
was filled
with love for him.
This
would have been a memorable experience with valuable lessons if
the story had
ended there. But it did not. Within a short time—if my
memory is right,
it was within a week—I received a phone call one evening.
The stake
executive secretary asked if I would be willing to meet with the
stake
president the next afternoon. I agreed.
I
entered the stake president’s office filled with fear and trembling. I
had no
idea what this appointment was about. I sat down, and the stake
president began
with quite a thorough worthiness interview. That got my
attention. Then he
inquired: “Brother Millet, are you willing to accept a call
in this Church, one
that will require a great deal of time and energy?”
I
answered that I was.
He said,
“On Sunday we will be making a change in your bishopric.
The second counselor
to the bishop is being released, and Bishop Sherwood
has asked that you serve
in that capacity. Would you be willing to accept
that assignment?”
I was
absolutely dumbfounded. Breathless. Unable to utter a word.
The
stake president sensed my discomfort and added, “Comes as a
surprise, doesn’t
it?”
I
thought to myself, You have no idea!
His next
question startled and stunned me. “Now, Brother Millet, can
you offer your
love, as well as your full loyalty and support, to Bishop
Sherwood?”
I
quietly said that I would do so.
My
experience in the bishopric was life changing. I learned so much.
And
I learned it at the hand of a fine teacher, Bishop Sherwood, a man who
proved
to be thoroughly warm and friendly and loving. I have wondered a
hundred times
since then what my situation would have been like if I had
not dealt with my
problem. What if I had not made the effort to go to the
Lord, open myself to
change, and allow his supernal power to make me into
a new man? What lessons
would I have missed, what opportunities to
minister to the Saints and serve
them, what spiritual growth would have
been denied me, if I had been content to
fester in my judgmental feelings?
Once more, I am supremely grateful for that
grace, that enabling power
associated with change and renewal of the human
soul.
I
testify, from knowledge that is deeply personal, knowledge that has
come to me
by revelation and as a result of leaning on and trusting in the
Master, that we
can change. We can be better. I know this. It works! I know
of the reality and
truthfulness of the words of Elder Howard W. Hunter,
who said: “Whatever Jesus
lays his hands upon lives. If Jesus lays his hands
upon a marriage, it lives.
If he is allowed to lay his hands on the family, it
lives.”11
While
serving as a priesthood leader many years ago, I had occasion to
work with a
young man who was struggling with same-sex attraction. He
had
violated his temple covenants but sincerely wanted to change. Church
disciplinary measures were taken, and he and I began to work together
toward
change. He spoke often of how difficult it was for him to be active
in the
Church, to attend all the activities, and in general to be a typical
Latter-day Saint when he felt so very atypical. He committed to avoid
inappropriate sexual activity but wrestled with his same-sex
attraction. One
day he asked, “If I do the things you have asked me to
do—go to Church,
read the scriptures, fast and pray, plead for divine
help, receive priesthood
blessings when necessary, and be chaste—can you
assure me that the Lord
will take away these desires, these attractions? Can
you promise me they
will go away?” It was a tough question.
As I
recall, I said something like, “I know that the Lord can indeed
change you, change
your heart, change your orientation. I know that he can
do that instantaneously
if he chooses to do so. I know that the power of
change is in Jesus Christ, and
that dramatic and rapid change can take place.
Though I do not know whether the
Lord will change you right away, I do
know this: If you do what you have been
asked to do, and if you do it
regularly and consistently from now on, God will
change you, either here or
hereafter. You may be required to deal with these
feelings until the day you
die. But I can promise you two things. First, these
feelings will eventually
be transformed. Second, if God does not choose to
bring about a major
change in your nature in this life, he will strengthen and
empower you to
deal with the temptations you will face. You don’t need to face
this on your
own.”
I shared
with my young friend a few scriptures that have special
meaning to me. I
reminded him that the celestial kingdom is the eternal
abode of those who
“overcome by faith” (D&C 76:53). I then turned to the
Book of Mormon and
read Alma’s counsel to his faithful son Helaman:
“Preach unto them repentance,
and faith on the Lord Jesus Christ; teach
them to humble themselves and to be
meek and lowly in heart; teach them
to withstand every temptation of the devil,
with their faith on the Lord Jesus
Christ” (Alma 37:33). Truly, Christ is our
Advocate, the One who knows
“the weakness of man and how to succor them who are
tempted” (D&C
62:1).
We live
in a day when the religious solutions to problems and
questions, if they are
given any credence at all, are among the least and last
considered. C. S.
Lewis, in his masterwork The Screwtape Letters, has one
of the archdevils,
Screwtape, giving instruction to his nephew, Wormwood,
about how to deceive
those who call themselves Christians: “The real
trouble about the [mindset]
your patient is living in is that it is merely
Christian. They all have
individual interests, of course, but the bond
remains mere Christianity. What
we want, if men become Christians at all,
is to keep them in the state of mind
I call ‘Christianity And.’ You know—
Christianity and the Crisis,
Christianity and the New Psychology,
Christianity and the New Order,
Christianity and Faith Healing, Christianity
and Psychical Research,
Christianity and Vegetarianism, Christianity and
Spelling Reform. If they must
be Christians, let them at least be Christians
with a difference. Substitute
for the faith itself some Fashion with a
Christian colouring. Work on their
horror of the Same Old Thing.”12
The
devil doesn’t need to get us to steal or lie or smoke or be immoral
—he
merely needs to suggest that we understate, undersell, and
underestimate the
powers, appropriateness, and relevance of the gospel of
Jesus Christ. One
challenge we face in a world exploding dramatically with
information,
discovery, and technology is to hold fast to that which is
fundamental, to
rivet ourselves to the simple. In many cases new
discoveries have paved the way
to the amelioration of human suffering and
the removal of so many of life’s
struggles for some. But some things never
change, including some needs that
every man and woman on planet Earth
shares with every other mortal. Some
problems can only be resolved
through divine intervention. Paul taught us that
in Christ “dwelleth all the
fulness of the Godhead bodily. And ye are complete
in him, which is the
head of all principality and power” (Colossians
2:9–10).
The
Prince of Peace was sent to “bind up the brokenhearted, to
proclaim liberty to
the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that
are bound” (Isaiah
61:1). The Lord Jehovah, who is Jesus Christ, is the
Great Physician, the One
sent of the Father to heal our wounds, to dry our
tears, to settle our souls.
We live in a fallen world, a world of pain and
trauma and tragedy, a world where
bad things do indeed happen to good
people. We live in a world where our
goodwill is spurned, our noble desires
are questioned, our benevolent deeds are
rebutted. Life hurts. A lot. My
heart goes out especially to those who know not
the Lord, who are unaware
of Christ’s capacity to lift and lighten and
liberate, who feel they must face
life’s challenges alone. I hurt for the
hurting, particularly for those who try
so hard to find fulfillment in the
things of this world, for those who cannot
hear or understand the Savior’s
instruction: “Wherefore, fear not even unto
death; for in this world your joy
is not full, but in me your joy is full” (D&C
101:36).
Sins we
commit are only one way—albeit a major way—by which we
are wounded
in mortality. Often others’ sins against us result in pain and
agony to our own
soul. Abuse in its many ugly forms takes a terrible toll on
human feelings of
worth. Harshness, rudeness, callousness, and
insensitivity—these are but
a few ways by which Satan wins a battle
through man’s inhumanity to man. Thus,
each of us wrestles not only with
sin and repentance but also with feelings of
inadequacy, feelings of
loneliness, bitterness, jealousy, or betrayal.
Alma
explained that the Redeemer would “go forth, suffering pains and
afflictions
and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be
fulfilled which
saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of
his people. And he
will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of
death which bind his
people; and he will take upon him their infirmities,
that his bowels may be
filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he
may know according to the
flesh how to succor his people according to
their infirmities” (Alma
7:11–12).
This
scripture points us to the Messiah’s power to lift us, lighten our
burdens, and
cradle us amidst any care. It testifies that Christ’s empathy
was made perfect
through his participation in pain—our pain as well as his.
Though Jehovah
knew all things cognitively, there were some things he
could only know
experientially, some things he would be required to go
through personally to be
able to assist us, personally, in our passage through
the second estate (Alma
7:13).
I have
been inspired over the years in working with those several
saintly persons who
are seeking to recover from abuse, desertion, or
betrayal. It has been
reaffirmed to me, from witnessing their vexations of
the soul, the eternal
verity that mortals can do only so much in their feeble
efforts to right the
wrongs of this life. I have been deeply touched as I have
beheld miracles in
process: their growing capacity to forgive. In our first
meeting, there might
have been much bitterness and even hatred expressed.
As time passes, however,
and as the Spirit of the Lord begins to work its
marvelous wonders in the human
heart, I have heard the offended one say
such things as, “Well, I don’t hate
him (or her) anymore. I don’t want to be
his closest friend, but I don’t hate
him. I can’t.”
Later I
have heard the following: “I am still troubled by what
happened, but I no
longer have bitter feelings toward this person.” And later
still I have heard:
“I hope things work out for him. I deeply hope he can get
his act together and
straighten out. I want him to be happy.” What a
stunning illustration of a
rebirth of the soul. Darkness and despair are
replaced by light and peace.
Doubt is replaced by confidence. Rancor is
replaced by tenderness and
magnanimity. Such a power, the power to take
away the pain, turn away the
anger, and put away the past—such a power is
not of this earth.
President
Gordon B. Hinckley stated: “I would that the healing power
of Christ might
spread over the earth and be diffused through our society
and into our homes,
that it might cure men’s hearts of the evil and adverse
elements of greed and
hate and conflict. I believe it could happen. I believe
it must happen. If the
lamb is to lie down with the lion, then peace must
overcome conflict; healing
must mend injury.
“Jesus
of Nazareth healed the sick among whom he moved. His
regenerating power is with
us today to be invoked through his holy
priesthood. His divine teachings, his
incomparable example, his matchless
life, his all-encompassing sacrifice will
bring healing to broken hearts,
reconciliation to those who argue and shout,
even peace to warring nations
if sought with humility and forgiveness and
love.
“As
members of the Church of Jesus Christ, ours is a ministry of
healing, with a
duty to bind the wounds and ease the pain of those who
suffer. Upon a world
afflicted with greed and contention, upon families
distressed by argument and
selfishness, . . . I invoke the healing power of
Christ, giving my
witness of its efficacy and wonder. I testify of him who is
the great source of
healing.”13
The
Cosmic Christ who creates and redeems worlds without number is
the same gentle
and good Shepherd who goes in search of one wandering
sheep. He who holds all
things in his power is the same Being who stills the
storms of the human heart
with a healing touch. But we must be willing to
open ourselves to that tender
touch.
“Jesus
never met a disease he could not cure, a birth defect he could
not reverse, a
demon he could not exorcise. But he did meet skeptics he
could not convince and
sinners he could not convert. Forgiveness of sins
requires an act of will on
the receiver’s part, and some who heard Jesus’
strongest words about grace and
forgiveness turned away unrepentant.”14
We have
never been promised a life of ease or an existence free from
strain and
anxiety. We have not been promised that we would be spared the
bitter potions
of this life. On the other hand, we have been assured that we
are not alone,
that if we trust in and rely upon His mighty arm, we will be
empowered and
comforted in our trials, delivered eventually out of bondage
(Mosiah 24:14).
Truly, “The Lord . . . gathereth together the outcasts of
Israel. He
healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds” (Psalm
147:2–3).
I am
reminded frequently of the words Paul wrote in his second epistle
to the
Corinthians. Paul was, sadly, required to spend a significant amount
of time
defending his apostolic calling. Having been a zealous Pharisee and
a
persecutor of the Christians before his conversion, and not having been
one of
the original witnesses of the resurrection of Christ, he felt the need to
testify to his detractors that his call had indeed come from God. In doing so
with the Corinthian Saints, he described some of the marvelous spiritual
experiences the Lord had given to him. “And lest I should be exalted above
measure,”
Paul hastened to add, “through the abundance of the revelations,
there was
given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet
me, lest I
should be exalted above measure. For this thing I besought the
Lord thrice,
that it might depart from me. And [the Lord] said unto me, My
grace is
sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.
Most gladly
therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of
Christ may
rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in
reproaches, in
necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for
when I am
weak, then am I strong” (2 Corinthians 12:7–10; emphasis
added).
No one
really knows what Paul’s “thorn in the flesh” was. Was it a
lingering illness,
perhaps malaria, so common in Galatia? Was it a memory
of his past, a hellish
reminder of who he had been? Was it an evil spirit that
dogged his steps and
wearied him in his ministry? Perhaps one day we’ll
know. All we know for sure
now was that whatever it was, it kept Paul
humble and forced him to his knees.
His inabilities and his impotence in the
face of this particular challenge were
ever before him. I rather think that
when Paul states he “besought the Lord
thrice” for the removal of the thorn
that he is not describing merely three
prayers but three seasons of prayer,
extended periods of wrestling and laboring
in the Spirit for a specific
blessing of deliverance that never came. Indeed,
as he suggests, another
kind of blessing came—a closeness and a sensitivity
to Deity, an
acquaintance with God, a sanctified strength that can only come
through
pain and suffering. Up against the wall of faith, shorn of
self-assurance and
naked in their extremity and frightening finitude,
mere mortals may receive
that enabling power we know as the grace of Christ. As
the Savior
explained to Moroni, when we acknowledge and confess our
weakness—
not just our specific weaknesses, our individual sins, but our
weakness, our
mortal limitation—and submit unto Him, he can transform
weakness into
strength (Ether 12:27).
Jacob,
son of Lehi, affirmed: “Wherefore, we search the prophets, and
we have many
revelations and the spirit of prophecy; and having all these
witnesses we
obtain a hope, and our faith becometh unshaken, insomuch
that we truly can
command in the name of Jesus and the very trees obey us,
or the mountains, or
the waves of the sea.” Now note these words:
“Nevertheless, the Lord God
showeth us our weakness that we may know
that it is by his grace, and his great
condescensions unto the children of
men, that we have power to do these things”
(Jacob 4:6–7).
Much of
my own frustration over the years has come as a result of my
refusal to let go
and thus let God. Something—I suppose it is the natural
man, the prideful
self that automatically asserts its own agenda—drives me
to want to do it
myself. Oh, I believe in God, to be sure. I know that he
loves me, that he sent
his Son to Earth to help me. All too often, however,
my actions have betrayed
my limited orientation, my vision of Christ as a
type of spiritual advisor, a
sort of celestial cheerleader who stands on the
sidelines and whispers
encouragement, not the Lord God Omnipotent who
came to Earth to make men and
women into new creatures through
empowering them to do what they could never do
for themselves.
There
are many who have been subjected to pain and distress in their
lives, to abuse,
to neglect, to the agonies of wanting more than anything to
live a normal life
and to feel normal feelings but who seem unable to do so.
I would say, first of
all, that each one of us, whoever we are, wrestles with
something. Perhaps it’s
things like weight or height or complexion or
baldness or I.Q. Perhaps it’s
stuff that passes in time, like a phase. Perhaps
it’s the torture of watching
helplessly as loved ones choose unwisely and
thereby not only close doors of
opportunity for themselves but also
foreclose future privileges. And then there
are the terrible traumas in our
life, those occasions when someone we love
violates our tender trust and
deals a blow that strikes at the center of all we
hold dear and all we value
about ourselves.
I bear
witness that the day is coming when all the wrongs, the awful
wrongs of this
life, will be righted. I bear witness that the God of justice
will attend to
all evil. And I certify, for I know this to be true, that those
things that are
beyond our power to control will be corrected, either here or
hereafter. Many
of us may come to enjoy the lifting, liberating powers of
the Atonement in this
life, and all our losses will be made up before we pass
from this sphere of
existence. Perhaps some of us will wrestle all our days
with our traumas and
our trials, for He who orchestrates the events of our
lives will surely fix the
time of our release. I have a conviction that when
we pass through the veil of
death, all those impediments and challenges and
crosses that were beyond our
power to control—abuse, neglect, immoral
environment, weighty traditions,
private temptations and inclinations, and
so forth—will be torn away like
a film, and perfect peace will prevail in our
hearts.
We as
mortals simply do not have the power to fix everything that is
broken. Complete
restitution, as we know it, may not be possible. President
Boyd K. Packer
explained that “sometimes you cannot give back what you
have taken because you don’t have
it to give. If you have caused others to
suffer unbearably—defiled
someone’s virtue, for example—it is not within
your power to give it
back. . . .
“If you
cannot undo what you have done, you are trapped. It is easy to
understand how
helpless and hopeless you then feel and why you might
want to give up, just as
Alma did.
“The
thought that rescued Alma, when he acted upon it, is this:
Restoring what you
cannot restore, healing the wound you cannot heal,
fixing that which you broke
and you cannot fix is the very purpose of the
atonement of Christ.
“When
your desire is firm and you are willing to pay ‘the uttermost
farthing’ [see
Matthew 5:26], the law of restitution is suspended. Your
obligation is
transferred to the Lord. He will settle your accounts.”15
Divine
grace, as mediated through Jesus Christ our Lord, is a
manifestation of “the
love of God, which sheddeth itself abroad in the
hearts of the children of men;
wherefore, it is the most desirable above all
things” (1 Nephi 11:22). That
love comes to us through the power of the
Holy Ghost (Romans 5:5; Moroni 8:26).
Truly, “God so loved the world,
that he gave his only begotten Son, that
whosoever believeth in him should
not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16; compare 1 John 4:9; D&C
34:3). As Moroni explained, “In the gift of his Son hath God prepared a
more
excellent way” (Ether 12:11).
Generally
when we speak of charity we speak of the love that we
should and must
demonstrate toward our brothers and sisters. This love is in
fact what Paul
called the “fruit of the Spirit” (Galatians 5:22). But let us be
clear that we
will never be able to love purely and have a meaningful effect
on the lives of
others until we have experienced the pure love of Christ in
our own hearts and
minds. Elder Jeffrey R. Holland wrote: “It is instructive
to note that the
charity, or ‘the pure love of Christ,’ we are to cherish can be
interpreted two
ways. One of its meanings is the kind of merciful, forgiving
love Christ’s
disciples should have one for another. That is, all Christians
should try to
love as the Savior loved, showing pure, redeeming compassion
for all.
Unfortunately, few, if any, mortals have been entirely successful in
this
endeavor, but it is an invitation that all should try to meet.
“The
greater definition of ‘the pure love of Christ,’ however, is not
what we as
Christians try but largely fail to demonstrate toward others but
rather what
Christ totally succeeded in demonstrating toward us. True
charity has been known only once.
It is shown perfectly and purely in
Christ’s unfailing, ultimate, and atoning
love for us. It is Christ’s love for us
that ‘suffereth long, and is kind, and
envieth not.’ It is his love for us that is
not ‘puffed up . . . ,
not easily provoked, thinketh no evil.’ It is Christ’s love
for us that
‘beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things,
endureth all
things.’ It is as demonstrated in Christ that ‘charity never
faileth.’ It is
that charity—his pure love for us—without which we would be
nothing, hopeless, of all men and women most miserable. Truly, those
found
possessed of the blessings of his love at the last day—the Atonement,
the
Resurrection, eternal life, eternal promise—surely it shall be well with
them.
“This
does not in any way minimize the commandment that we are to
try to acquire this
kind of love for one another. We should ‘pray unto the
Father with all the
energy of heart that [we] may be filled with this love.’
We should try to be
more constant and unfailing, more long-suffering and
kind, less envious and
puffed up in our relationships with others. As Christ
lived so should we live,
and as Christ loved so should we love. But the
‘pure love of Christ’ Mormon spoke of
is precisely that—Christ’s love.
With that divine gift, that redeeming
bestowal, we have everything; without
it we have nothing and ultimately are
nothing, except in the end ‘devils
[and] angels to a devil.’
“Life
has its share of fears and failures. Sometimes things fall short.
Sometimes
people fail us, or economies or businesses or governments fail
us. But one
thing in time or eternity does not fail us—the pure love of
Christ.”16 This is what Paul meant when he
affirmed: “For I am persuaded,
that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor
principalities, nor powers, nor
things present, nor things to come, nor
height, nor depth, nor any other
creature, shall be able to separate us from
the love of God, which is in
Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38–39).
In
summary, the strength, the enlivening influence, the spiritual change
about which we have been speaking do not come to us just because we
work harder
or longer hours. It comes as a result of working smarter,
working in
conjunction with the Lord God Omnipotent. Elder Gene R.
Cook pointed out that
“if we can obtain the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ,
that divine enabling
power to assist us, we will triumph in this life and be
exalted in the life to
come. . . . I bear witness that if we will seek the grace
of God, He
will come to our aid and the aid of our loved ones in times of
need.”17 President Brigham Young likewise
testified: “My faith is, when we
have done all we can, then the Lord is under
obligation, and will not
disappoint the faithful; he will perform the rest.”18
I will not doubt;

I will not fear;
God’s love and

strength are always near.
His promised gift

helps me to find
An inner strength
and peace of mind.
I give the Father

willingly
My trust, my
prayers, humility.
His Spirit guides;

his love assures
That fear departs

when faith endures.19
Notes
^1.
1. George, Classic Christianity, 152–53; emphasis in original.
^2.
2. Stott, Life in Christ, 109; emphasis added.
^3.
3. Pace, Spiritual Plateaus, 62–63.
^4.
4. Benson, Conference Report, October 1985,
5–6.
^5.
5. Oaks, Conference Report, October 2000, 41–43;
emphasis in original.
^6.
6. MacArthur, Faith Works, 32.
^7.
7. LDS Bible Dictionary, s.v. “grace,” 697.
^8.
8. McConkie, “Three Pillars of
Eternity,” 27.
^9.
9. Lewis, Miracles, 161–62.
^10.
10. Hafen, Broken Heart, 7–8; see also 148–50.
^11.
11. Hunter, Conference Report, October 1979, 93.
^12.
12. Lewis, Screwtape Letters, 91; emphasis in original.
^13.
13. Hinckley, Faith, the Essence of True
Religion, 35.
^14.
14. Yancey, Jesus I Never Knew, 174–75.
^15.
15. Packer, Conference Report, October 1995, 22–23;
emphasis in original.
^16.
16. Holland, Christ and the New Covenant, 336–37.
^17.
17. Cook, Conference Report, April 1993,
98–100.
^18.
^19.
19. “When Faith Endures,” Hymns, 1985, no. 128.
VI
The Delicate Balance
I have felt for some time that as

Latter-day Saints we should pay more
attention to the grace of Jesus
Christ, especially when it is such a central
doctrine in the Book of Mormon and
the New Testament. Perhaps some of
us have hesitated to perceive the profound
eternal relevance of this doctrine
because it brings us face to face with our
own limitations. Perhaps we shy
away from it because we sense that it may
entail an alteration in our present
way of viewing things. Whatever the cause,
the result may be that we have
not enjoyed fully the quiet yet pervasive power
that comes to those who
acknowledge their weakness and turn to Him who has all
power.
I
believe that there is wisdom in studying the doctrinal message of
grace in
context, in the way it is presented in scripture—in the context of
the
Atonement. The doctrine of grace is not a doctrine that stands alone; it is
inextricably tied to several other matters and therefore makes sense and
brings
peace only when seen in that context. It must be taught with a
balanced
perspective.
Latter-day
Saints have often been critical of those who teach that
salvation comes by
grace alone; we, on the other hand, have often been
criticized for a type of
works-righteousness. The gospel is in fact a covenant
—a
two-way promise. The Lord agrees to do for us what we could never do
for ourselves—forgive our sins, lift our burdens, renew our souls and
re-
create our nature, raise us from the dead, and qualify us for glory
hereafter.
At the same time, we promise to do what we can do: receive the ordinances
of
salvation, love and serve one another (Mosiah 18:8–10), and do all in our
power to put off the natural man and deny ourselves of ungodliness (Mosiah
3:19; Moroni 10:32). We believe that more is required of us than a verbal
expression of faith in the Lord, more than a confession with the lips that we
have received Christ into our hearts. We know, without question, that the
power
to save us, to change us, to renew our souls, is in Christ. True faith,
however, always manifests itself in faithfulness. “When faith springs up in
the
heart,” President Brigham Young taught, “good works will follow, and
good works
will increase that pure faith within them.”1
Good
works evidence our faith, our desire to remain in covenant with
Christ. But
these good works, though necessary to our salvation, are not
sufficient to save us. Few things would be
more sinister than encouraging
lip service to God but discouraging actions of
obedience and faithful
discipleship. On the other hand, surely nothing could be
more offensive to
God than the smug self-assurance that comes from
trusting in one’s own
works or relying upon one’s own strength.
I have
spent many hours with my Latter-day Saint colleagues in
seeking to
persuade those of other faiths that Latter-day Saints really are
Christians, that our hope and trust are in Jesus of Nazareth. Very often those
who are critical of us comment that we do not believe in salvation by grace
alone. As I understand that phrase from their perspective, “grace alone”
means
that Jesus’ suffering and death on the cross are all that are necessary
for our
salvation: good works manifest our true conversion to Christ, but
they do not
and cannot add one whit to the Lord’s finished work on the
cross. The good
works are a product, not a cause, of one’s salvation. Not
long ago I heard an
Evangelical preacher condemn all efforts to require
good works, ending his
sermon with this thought: “A Christ supplemented
is a Christ supplanted.”
I’ve
thought about that a good deal. Do we as Latter-day Saints believe
in
salvation by grace alone? After much reflection, I have concluded that
the only
real answer is a solid yes and no!
As we
have discussed, salvation is free and freely available (2 Nephi
2:4). It is the
greatest of all the gifts of God (D&C 6:13; 14:7). Elder Bruce
R. McConkie
wrote: “Does salvation come by grace, by grace alone, by
grace without
works? It
surely does without any question, in all its parts,
types, kinds, and
degrees.
“We are
saved by grace, without works; it is a gift of God. How else
could it
come?
“In his
goodness and grace the great God ordained and established the
plan of
salvation. No works on our part were required. . . .
“In his
goodness and grace he created this earth and all that is on it,
with man as the
crowning creature of his creating—without which creation
his spirit
children could not obtain immortality and eternal life. No works
on our part
were required.
“In his
goodness and grace—and this above all—he gave his Only
Begotten Son to ransom man and all life from the temporal and spiritual
death brought into the world by the Fall of Adam.
“He sent
his Son to redeem mankind, to atone for the sins of the world,
‘to bring to
pass the immortality and eternal life of man’ (Moses 1:39). And
again all this
comes to us as a free gift and without works.
“There
is nothing any man could do to create himself. This was the
work of the Lord
God.
“Nor did
we have any part in the Fall of man, without which there
could be no salvation.
The Lord provided the way, and Adam and Eve put
the system into operation.
“And
finally, there neither has been, nor is, nor ever can be any way
nor means by
which man alone can, by any power he possesses, redeem
himself.
“We
cannot resurrect ourselves any more than we can create ourselves.
We cannot
create a heavenly abode for the Saints, nor make provision for
the continuation
of the family unit in eternity, nor bring salvation and
exaltation into
being. . . .
“Truly,
there is no way to overstate the goodness and grandeurs and
glories of the
grace of God which bringeth salvation. Such wondrous love,
such unending mercy,
such infinite compassion and condescension—all
these can come only from
the Eternal God who lives in eternal life and who
desires all of his children
to live as he lives and be inheritors of eternal
life.”2
Then
what is the place of good works? The works and deeds of man,
though
insufficient of themselves for salvation, are necessary. They are
necessary
because they evidence our desire to keep our covenant, to be true
to our
promise to follow the Lord and keep his commandments. True faith
always results
in faithfulness. Discipleship is inextricably linked with full
acceptance of
Christ and his gospel. Thus, could Elder McConkie speak
from the other side of
the issue: “Let us now come to the matter of whether
we must do something to
gain the blessings of the Atonement in our lives.
. . .
“This is
the word: Man cannot be saved by grace alone; as the Lord
lives, he must keep
the commandments; he must work the works of
righteousness; he must work out his
salvation with fear and trembling
before the Lord; he must have faith like the
ancients—the faith that brings
with it gifts and signs and miracles.”3
We as
Latter-day Saints believe, with our Christian brothers and sisters,
that salvation is a gift, but we also emphasize that a gift must be received.
Our receipt of the ordinances of salvation and our efforts to keep the
commandments are extensions and manifestations of true faith. Consider a
few of
the scriptural passages that affirm the need for works and that attest
that we
will be judged by God according to our works. From the Bible:
“God
hath spoken once; twice have I heard this; that power belongeth
unto God. Also
unto thee, O Lord, belongeth mercy: for thou renderest to
every man according
to his work” (Psalm 62:11–12; compare Proverbs
24:12).
“Not
every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the
kingdom of
heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in
heaven” (Matthew
7:21).
“For the
Son of man shall come in the glory of his Father with his
angels; and then he
shall reward every man according to his works”
(Matthew 16:27).
“Of a
truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons: but in every
nation he
that feareth him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with
him” (Acts
10:34–35).
“[God]
will render to every man according to his deeds” (Romans 2:6;
compare Jeremiah
17:10).
“Not the
hearers of the law are just before God, but the doers of the law
shall be
justified” (Romans 2:13).
“For we
must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ; that every
one may receive
the things done in his body, according to that he hath done,
whether it be good
or bad” (2 Corinthians 5:10).
“This is
a faithful saying, and these things I will that thou affirm
constantly, that
they which have believed in God might be careful to
maintain good works. These
things are good and profitable unto men”
(Titus 3:8).
“Be ye
doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own
selves” (James
1:22).
“Thou
believest that there is one God; thou doest well: the devils also
believe, and
tremble. But wilt thou know, O vain man, that faith without
works is dead?
. . . For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith
without
works is dead also” (James 2:19–20, 26).
“The
Father . . . without respect of persons judgeth according to every
man’s work” (1 Peter 1:17).
“My
little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in
deed and in
truth” (1 John 3:18).
“And I
saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books
were opened: and
another book was opened, which is the book of life: and
the dead were judged
out of those things which were written in the books,
according to their works”
(Revelation 20:12).
The Book
of Mormon, another testament of Jesus Christ, has been
given for the purpose of
“proving to the world that the holy scriptures are
true” (D&C 20:11). The
following passages confirm that purpose:
“It was
a representation of things both temporal and spiritual; for the
day should come that they must be judged of their works,
yea, even the
works which were done by the temporal body in their days of
probation” (1
Nephi 15:32).
“Yea,
they are grasped with death, and hell; and death, and hell, and the
devil, and
all that have been seized therewith must stand before the throne
of God, and be
judged according to their works” (2 Nephi 28:23).
“And now
I have spoken the words which the Lord God hath
commanded me. And thus saith
the Lord: They shall stand as a bright
testimony against this people, at the
judgment day; whereof they shall be
judged, every man according to his works,
whether they be good, or
whether they be evil” (Mosiah 3:23–24).
“Do ye
exercise faith in the redemption of him who created you? Do
you look forward
with an eye of faith, and view this mortal body raised in
immortality, and this
corruption raised in incorruption, to stand before God
to be judged according
to the deeds which have been done in the mortal
body?” (Alma 5:15; compare
Mosiah 16:10).
“Therefore,
prepare ye the way of the Lord, for the time is at hand that
all men shall reap
a reward of their works, according to that which they
have been—if they
have been righteous they shall reap the salvation of their
souls, according to
the power and deliverance of Jesus Christ; and if they
have been evil they
shall reap the damnation of their souls, according to the
power and captivation
of the devil” (Alma 9:28).
“Therefore
the wicked remain as though there had been no redemption
made, except it be the
loosing of the bands of death; for behold, the day
cometh that all shall rise
from the dead and stand before God, and be judged
according to their works”
(Alma 11:41; see also 12:12).
“He
[Jesus] shall rise again from the dead, which shall bring to pass the
resurrection, that all men shall stand before him, to be judged at the last and
judgment day, according to their works” (Alma 33:22; see also 36:15).
“And it
is requisite with the justice of God that men should be judged
according to
their works; and if their works were good in this life, and the
desires of
their hearts were good, that they should also, at the last day, be
restored
unto that which is good” (Alma 41:3).
“Whosoever
will come may come and partake of the waters of life
freely; and whosoever will
not come the same is not compelled to come; but
in the last day it shall be
restored unto him according to his deeds” (Alma
42:27).
“The
great and last day, when all people, and all kindreds, and all
nations and
tongues shall stand before God, to be judged of their works,
whether they be
good or whether they be evil” (3 Nephi 26:4).
“And for
this cause I write unto you, that ye may know that ye must all
stand before the
judgment-seat of Christ, yea, every soul who belongs to the
whole
human family of Adam; and ye must stand to be judged of your
works, whether
they be good or evil” (Mormon 3:20).
On the
one hand, Latter-day Saint scripture and prophetic teachings
establish the essential truth that salvation is free and that it comes by grace
alone. On the other hand, ancient and modern prophets set forth the equally
vital point that works are a necessary, though insufficient, condition for
salvation. We will be judged according to our works, not according to the
merits of our works, but to the extent that our works manifest to God who
and
what we have become. Some things are perhaps only fully understood
in
paradox. It appears on the surface, for example, that two great New
Testament
Church leaders, Paul and James, are teaching opposite things:
Paul tends to
emphasize the centrality of saving grace; James lays emphasis
upon righteous
works. Elder McConkie addressed the challenge of the
meridian Church as
follows:
“On the
one hand, we are preaching to Jews who, in their lost and
fallen state, have
rejected their Messiah and who believe they are saved by
the works and
performances of the Mosaic law.
“On the
other hand, we are preaching to pagans—Romans, Greeks,
those in every
nation—who know nothing whatever about the Messianic
word, or of the need
for a Redeemer, or of the working out of the infinite
and eternal atonement.
They worship idols, the forces of nature, the
heavenly bodies, or whatever
suits their fancy. As with the Jews, they
assume that this or that sacrifice or
appeasing act will please the Deity of
their choice and some vague and
unspecified blessings will result.
“Can
either the Jews or the pagans be left to assume that the works
they do will
save them? Or must they forget their little groveling acts of
petty worship,
gain faith in Christ, and rely on the cleansing power of his
blood for
salvation?
“They
must be taught faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and to forsake their
traditions
and performances. Surely we must tell them they cannot be saved
by the works
they are doing, for man cannot save himself. Instead they must
turn to Christ
and rely on his merits and mercy and grace.”4
In
Romans 4, Paul asks what made Abraham such a great man. Why
was he accepted of
the Lord? The answer is very simple, Paul suggests:
Abraham had
faith—believed God—and it was accounted unto him for
righteousness.
In James
2, the brother of the Lord asks essentially the same questions:
What made
Abraham such a great man? Why was he accepted of the Lord?
It could not have
been his faith alone, James indicates. No, he contends,
Abraham’s faith was
manifest and evident in his willingness to sacrifice his
son Isaac—in his
works. In reality, it was Abraham’s faith that brought the
approbation of God.
And it was Abraham’s works that brought forth the
blessings of heaven.
President
Joseph Fielding Smith explained: “Paul taught these people
—who thought
that they could be saved by some power that was within
them, or by observing
the law of Moses—he pointed out to them the fact
that if it were not for
the mission of Jesus Christ, if it were not for this great
atoning sacrifice,
they could not be redeemed. And therefore it was by the
grace of God that they
are saved, not by any work on their part, for they
were absolutely helpless.
Paul was absolutely right.
“And on
the other hand, James taught just as the Lord taught, just as
Paul had taught
in other scripture, that it is our duty, of necessity, to labor,
to strive in
diligence, and faith, keeping the commandments of the Lord, if
we would obtain
that inheritance which is promised to the faithful, and
which shall be given
unto them through their faithfulness to the end. There
is no conflict in the
doctrines of these two men.”5
One
Latter-day Saint writer offered a parable that might help us more
fully understand this vital matter: “A man is wandering in a hot and barren
waste, and about to die of thirst, when he is caused to look up at the top of
the hill where he sees a fountain of water in a restful setting of green grass
and trees. His first impulse is to dismiss it as a mirage sent to torture his
weary soul. But, being wracked with thirst and fatigue, and doomed to
certain
destruction anyway, he chooses to believe and pursue this last hope.
As he
drives his weary flesh to the top of the hill, he begins to see evidence
of the
reality of his hope; and, renewing his efforts, struggles on to the
summit
where he wets his parched lips, cools his fevered brow, and restores
life to
his body as he drinks deeply from the fountain. He is saved!
“What
saved him? Was it the climb up the hill? Or was it the water? If
he had
remained at the foot of the hill either because of disbelief or lack of
fortitude, his only means of salvation would have remained inaccessible.
On the
other hand, if he had climbed to the top and found he had labored in
vain, he
would have been worse off, if possible. . . .
“The
climb up the hill represents obedience to the gospel (faith in
Christ,
repentance, baptism of water, baptism of the Spirit, and endurance to
the end);
the water is that same eternal drink which Jesus offered the
woman at the well.
It is the atonement of Christ which is supplied as an act
of grace.”6
In
reality, as we have emphasized already, the work of salvation of the
human soul
is a product of divine grace combined with true faith and its
attendant
actions. C. S. Lewis explained: “Christians have often disputed as
to whether
what leads the Christian home is good actions, or Faith in Christ.
I have no
right really to speak on such a difficult question, but it does seem
to me like
asking which blade in a pair of scissors is most necessary. A
serious moral
effort is the only thing that will bring you to the point where
you throw up
the sponge. Faith in Christ is the only thing to save you from
despair at that
point: and out of that Faith in Him good actions must
inevitably come.
. . .
“The
Bible really seems to clinch the matter when it puts the two things
together
into one amazing sentence. The first half is, ‘Work out your own
salvation with
fear and trembling’—which looks as if everything depended
on us and our
good actions: but the second half goes on, ‘For it is God who
worketh in you’
[Philippians 2:12–13]—which looks as if God did
everything and we
nothing. I am afraid that is the sort of thing we come up
against in
Christianity. I am puzzled, but I am not surprised. You see, we are
now trying
to understand, and to separate into water-tight compartments,
what
exactly God does and what man does when God and man are working
together.”7
This same
connection between God and man, between grace and
works, is described by Nephi
in his marvelous discussion of the doctrine of
Christ. After having spoken of
the baptism of Jesus and how the Lord
thereby fulfilled all righteousness, of the
importance of entering the gospel
covenant sincerely and devoutly, and of
getting onto the strait and narrow
path of discipleship, Nephi speaks of the
blessings that flow therefrom,
including the blessed receipt of the Holy
Spirit: “And now, my beloved
brethren, after ye have gotten into this strait
and narrow path, I would ask if
all is done? Behold, I say unto you, Nay; for
ye have not come thus far save
it were by the word of Christ with unshaken
faith in him, relying wholly
upon the merits of him who is mighty to save” (2
Nephi 31:19).
Nephi
seems to be asking, essentially, “Once you get into the church
and kingdom of
God, do you suppose your labors are done? No, not at all. It
was the Lord who
led you to the truth, inspired you through his word, and
empowered you to have
faith in him. Your trust and reliance upon the
Savior’s good works—his
redemptive labors, his mercy and grace—are
what made it possible for you
to get onto that path that leads to eternal life.”
The next
part of Nephi’s statement stresses our role once we have come
to faith:
“Wherefore, ye must press forward with a steadfastness in Christ,
having a
perfect brightness of hope, and a love of God and of all men.
Wherefore, if ye
shall press forward, feasting upon the word of Christ, and
endure to the end,
behold, thus saith the Father: Ye shall have eternal life”
(2 Nephi 31:20).
I
understand Nephi to be saying, “Once you have gotten onto the
gospel path, you
need to remain steady and faithful, consistent and
courageous in your
discipleship, having the hope of Christ in your heart.
The love of God,
manifest in the gift of his Son, will empower you to love
others in the same
way. Now, to the extent that you continue to learn the
will of
God—through scripture, through prophets, and by inspiration—and
remain true to your covenants until your mortal journey is completed, you
will
gain eternal life.”
As a
part of his magnificent sermon delivered at the temple, Jacob
declared:
“Therefore, cheer up your hearts, and remember that ye are free to
act for
yourselves—to choose the way of everlasting death or the way of
eternal
life. Wherefore, my beloved brethren, reconcile yourselves to the
will of God,
and not to the will of the devil and the flesh; and remember,
after ye are
reconciled unto God, that it is only in and through the grace of
God that ye
are saved” (2 Nephi 10:23–24).
Once we
have put out of our lives those distractions and spiritual
roadblocks that keep
us from enjoying a deeper communion with Deity,
once we have been reconciled to
the will of God—having put off the natural
man and come to God on his
terms—then his mercy and grace continue to
purify, strengthen, and
empower us throughout our lives until we finish our
course and thereby qualify
for eternal life.
What
does it mean, therefore, to “work out our own salvation”?
Certainly not to
attempt to do it by ourselves, for the divine word is sure
and clear—such
is impossible. Certainly it does not mean to accept Christ
and his gospel and
then live however we choose, utterly disregarding the
standards of Christian
discipleship—such is an offense to God, and we will
answer for the same
on the day of judgment. No, “work out our own
salvation” means to pray and
trust in the Lord God as though everything
depended upon him, and it also means
to work and labor as though
everything depended upon him! If I rely wholly upon the merits of Christ (2
Nephi 31:19), how much do I rely upon myself to be saved? If I rely alone
upon the merits of Christ
(Moroni 6:4), how much do I rely upon myself to
be saved? The answer to both
questions is a resounding “None.” This is not
a matter of
self-confidence; it is a matter of confidence in Christ. I have a
role in my own salvation, but peace and assurance and hope come because
of what
Jesus the Redeemer has done and will do to qualify me for life with
him one
day.
Indeed,
we are not our own; we are bought with a price, an infinite
price (1
Corinthians 6:19–20; 7:23). Thus, the grace of God, provided
through the
intercession of the Savior, is free, and yet it is expensive. It is
costly
grace, “costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because
it gives a man the only
true life. . . . Above all, it is costly because it cost
God the life of
his Son . . . and what has cost God much cannot be cheap for
us.
Above all, it is grace because God did not reckon his Son too dear a
price to
pay for our life, but delivered him up for us.”8
If, as
we have suggested, the works of man are necessary, then how can
the words of
the risen Lord be true: “My grace is sufficient for thee”? (2
Corinthians 12:9;
compare Ether 12:26; D&C 17:8). The answer lies in the
final words of
Moroni on the last page of the Book of Mormon: “Yea, come
unto Christ, and be
perfected in him, and deny yourselves of all
ungodliness; and if ye shall deny
yourselves of all ungodliness, and love
God with all your might, mind, and
strength, then is his grace sufficient for
you” (Moroni 10:32).
For us
to enjoy the strength, enabling power, and purifying influence of
the mighty
arm of God, we must do all in our power to receive it. Thus, we
reach and
stretch to take the hand of the Almighty. We open our hands and
our hearts to
the proffered gift. We strive with all our souls to love our
Maker and avoid
unholy attitudes and behaviors and places and influences
that distance us from
the Holy One. Then his grace is sufficient for us.
Gerald
N. Lund offered this perceptive analogy: “We are like a
powerhouse on a mighty
river. The powerhouse has no power residing in
itself; the potential power
rests in the energy of the river. When that source
of power flows through the
generators of the power plant, power is
transferred from the river to the power
plant and sent out into the homes
(lives) of others. So it is with faith. The
power to achieve justification does
not reside in man. Man requires the power
of the atonement of Christ
flowing into him. If no power is being generated,
one does not—indeed,
cannot—turn the generators by hand
(justification by works); but rather, an
effort is made to remove those things
which have blocked the power from
flowing into the generators (working
righteousness as a result of faith).
With this background, then, one can
understand why the scriptures clearly
stress that faith includes works (see James 2:17–26);
that is, obedience,
commitment, and repentance—these are the works of
faith that open up the
channels so that the power of the atoning sacrifice of
Christ can flow into
us, redeem us from sin, and bring us back into the
presence of God.
Disobedience and wickedness dam those channels. (How literal
is the word
damnation!) The righteous works in themselves do not save us.
The atoning
power of God saves us. But our righteous works, activated by our
faith in
the Savior, are the condition for the operation of that power. Thus,
each of
us has something to say about whether he will be able to seek the gift
and
power of the Atonement in his behalf.”9
In the
spiritual realm, there is nothing weak about trusting, nothing
passive about
reliance. In one sense, as C. S. Lewis observed, “the road
back to God is a
road of moral effort, of trying harder and harder. But in
another sense it is
not trying that is ever going to bring us home. All this
trying leads up to the
vital moment at which you turn to God and say, ‘You
must do this, I can’t.’”
Such submission, Lewis continues, represents a
significant change in our
nature, “the change from being confident about
our own efforts to the state in
which we despair of doing anything for
ourselves and leave it to God.
“I know
the words ‘leave it to God’ can be misunderstood,” Lewis
continued. “The sense
in which a Christian leaves it to God is that he puts
all his trust in Christ:
trusts that Christ will somehow share with him the
perfect human obedience
which He carried out from His birth to His
crucifixion: that Christ will make
the man [or woman] more like Himself
and, in a sense, make good his [or her]
deficiencies.”10
In a
word, we are incomplete, or partial, whereas Christ is whole, or
complete. As I
come unto Christ by covenant, we (Christ and I) are
complete. I am unfinished;
Christ is finished. Through relying alone upon
the merits of “the author and
finisher of [my] faith” (Hebrews 12:2;
compare Moroni 6:4), I become finished,
or fully formed. I am deeply
imperfect; Christ is perfect. Together we are perfect.
Those who come unto
Christ become perfect in him (Moroni 10:32). Those who
inherit the
celestial kingdom are just men and just women who have been “made
perfect through Jesus the mediator of the new covenant, who wrought out
this
perfect atonement through the shedding of his own blood” (D&C
76:69).
Because
we are human—because we are weak and mortal and tired—
we will
probably never reach the point in this life when we have done “all
we can do.”
Too many of us misread 2 Nephi 25:23 and conclude that the
Lord can assist us
only after, meaning following the time that, we have done
“all we can do.” That
reading is incorrect; he can and does help us all along
the way. Nephi seems to
be emphasizing that no matter how much we do, it
simply will not be enough to
guarantee salvation without Christ’s
intervention. To paraphrase Nephi, above
and beyond all we can do, it is by
the grace of Christ that we are saved. And
what is true of our ultimate
salvation is true of our daily walk and talk, of
our personality and our
passions. Above and beyond all our efforts at
self-control, behavior
modification, or reducing our sins to
manageable categories, “everything
which really needs to be done in our souls
can be done only by God.”11
There is
yet another way to look at 2 Nephi 25:23. After the conversion
of thousands of
Lamanites by the sons of Mosiah, the brother of Lamoni,
named
Anti-Nephi-Lehi, counseled with his people, who had made a
covenant not to take up weapons against their brethren in war. A part of his
sermon was an expression of gratitude for the goodness of God—for
sending
the Spirit, softening the hearts of the Lamanites, opening doors of
communication between the Nephites and the Lamanites, and convincing
the people
of their sins. “And I also thank my God, yea, my great God, that
he hath
granted unto us that we might repent of these things, and also that
he hath
forgiven us of those our many sins and murders which we have
committed, and
taken away the guilt from our hearts, through the merits of
his Son. And now
behold, my brethren, since it has been all that we could
do, (as we were the most lost of all
mankind) to repent of all our sins and
the many murders which we have committed, and to
get God to take them
away from our hearts, for it was all we could do to
repent sufficiently before
God that he would take away our stain—Now, my best beloved
brethren,
since God hath taken away our stains, and our swords have become
bright,
then let us stain our swords no more with the blood of our brethren”
(Alma
24:10–12; emphasis added).
There is
a very real sense in which “all we can do” is come before the
Lord in reverent
humility, confess our weakness, and plead for his
forgiveness, for his mercy
and grace. It has occurred to me recently that life
is repentance, that
progression and improvement and growth and maturity
and refinement are all
forms of repentance, and that the God-fearing live in
a constant
state of repentance. It is not intended that we exist in a constant
fear or
frustration or anxiety but rather that we have desires for holiness and
purity,
longings to feel quiet confidence before God.
To push
ourselves beyond the mark is, in a strange sort of way, a
statement that we
fear we must do the job ourselves if we expect it to get
done. Of course we
must do our duty in the Church and other works of
righteousness that are
necessary. What seems so unnecessary is the
pharisaical extremism and
exhausting frustration that too often characterize
the efforts of some members
of the Church. God is unquestionably aware of
us. He loves you, and he loves
me. This I know. He certainly wants us to
improve, but he definitely does not
want us to spend our days languishing
in guilt. The gospel of Jesus Christ is
intended to liberate us, to lift and
lighten our burdens. If it is not doing
that in our lives, then perhaps our
approach and understanding—not
necessarily the quantity of work to be
done—may need some
adjustment.
Balance.
That is the key. I have come to sense the need to balance a
type of “divine
discontent”—a healthy longing to improve—with what
Nephi called a
“perfect brightness of hope” (2 Nephi 31:20), the Spirit-
given
assurance that in and through Jesus Christ we are going to make it.
I know
of the power that is in Christ, the power not only to create the
worlds and
divide the seas but also to still the storms of the human heart, to
right
life’s wrongs, to ease and eventually remove the pain of scarred and
beaten
souls. There is no bitterness, no anger, no fear, no jealousy, no
feelings of
inadequacy that cannot be healed by the Great Physician. He is
the Balm of
Gilead. He is the One sent by the Father to “bind up the
brokenhearted, to
proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the
prison to them that
are bound” (Isaiah 61:1). True followers of Christ learn
to trust in him more,
in the arm of flesh less. They learn to rely on him
more, on man-made
solutions less. They learn to surrender their burdens to
him more. They learn
to work to their limits and then be willing to seek that
grace or enabling
power that will make up the difference, that sacred power
that makes all the
difference!
As
Moroni instructed, when we come unto Christ and seek to deny
ourselves of
ungodliness and give ourselves without let or hindrance to
God, “then is his
grace sufficient for you, that by his grace ye may be
perfect in
Christ”—whole, complete, fully formed—“and if by the grace of
God
ye are perfect in Christ, ye can in nowise deny the power of God”
(Moroni
10:32). Those who completely surrender to the Almighty and
submit themselves to
him cannot deny—block, stop, or prevent—the power
of God from
coming into their lives. Because of who Christ our Lord is and
what he has
done, no obstacle to peace and joy here or hereafter is too great
to face or
overcome.
Our Savior’s love

shines like the sun with perfect light,
As from above it
breaks through clouds of strife.
Lighting our way,

it leads us back into his sight,
Where we may stay

to share eternal life.
The Spirit, voice

of goodness, whispers to our hearts
A better choice
than evil’s anguished cries.
Loud may the sound

of hope ring till all doubt departs,
And we are bound

to him by loving ties.
Our Father, God

of all creation, hear us pray
In rev’rence, awed
by thy Son’s sacrifice.
Praises we sing.
We love thy law; we will obey.
Our heav’nly King,

in thee our hearts rejoice.12
Notes
^1.
^2.
Salvation by Grace?” 47; emphasis in original.
^3.
Salvation by Grace?” 48.
^4.
Salvation by Grace?” 47–48.
^5.
5. Smith, Doctrines of Salvation, 2:310.
^6.
6. Pearson, Know Your Religion, 92–93.
^7.
7. Lewis, Mere Christianity, 131–32.
^8.
8. Bonhoeffer, Cost of
Discipleship, 47–48; emphasis in
original.
^9.
9. Lund, “Salvation,” 23; emphasis in
original.
^10.
10. Lewis, Mere Christianity, 129–30.
^11.
^12.
12. “Our Savior’s Love,” Hymns, 1985, no. 113.
Epilogue
After All, What Can We Do?
Wait a minute!” you may ask at this point. “Don’t you worry that
some
people will take what you say about grace as license to goof off?”
I
suppose there might be some risk in that regard. The apostle Paul
certainly
wrestled in his day with Saints who took his words on the
liberating power of
the gospel as license to sin. People who want an excuse
to do little or to
rationalize their worst efforts will always distort truth to
suit
themselves.
But I
think there is a greater risk here. I’m thinking of those people on
the other
side of this issue, those members of the Church who are doing all
they know how
to do, good people who push themselves, noble souls who
double and triple their
efforts after an initial failure, fine and upstanding
Latter-day
Saints who wrestle constantly with feelings of inadequacy. I
worry about them
far more. I worry sometimes that if we understate the
Atonement, if we see
Jesus only as he forgives gross sin (instead of as the
One sent to “bind up the
brokenhearted”—Isaiah 61:1), we may not grasp
the essential truth that
our Lord can and will bring peace to the souls of
those who are filled with
bitterness, hostility, anger, jealousy, fear,
loneliness, and feelings of
inadequacy.
An
entertaining and instructive story on the matter of risk was given by
Evangelical Protestant minister Chuck Swindoll. In it we see many of the
elements that become a part of our lives as we begin to mature spiritually. “I
remember when I first earned my license to drive,” Swindoll wrote. “I was
about
sixteen, as I recall. I’d been driving off and on for three years (scary
thought, isn’t it?). My father had been with me most of the time during my
learning experiences, calmly sitting alongside me in the front seat, giving
me
tips, helping me know what to do. My mother usually wasn’t in on those
excursions because she spent more of her time biting her nails (and
screaming)
than she did advising. My father was a little more easygoing.
Loud noises and
screeching brakes didn’t bother him nearly as much. My
grandfather was the best
of all. When I would drive his car, I would hit
things . . . Boom! He’d say stuff like, ‘Just keep
on going, Bud. I can buy
more fenders, but I can’t buy more grandsons. You’re
learning.’ What a
great old gentleman. After three years of all that nonsense,
I finally earned
my license.
“I’ll
never forget the day I came in, flashed my newly acquired permit,
and said,
‘Dad, look!’ He goes, ‘Whoa! Look at this. You got your license.
Good for you!’
Holding the keys to his car, he tossed them in my direction
and smiled, ‘Tell
you what, son . . . you can have the car for two hours, all
on your
own.’ Only four words, but how wonderful: ‘All on your own.’
“I
thanked him, danced out to the garage, opened the car door, and
shoved the key
into the ignition. My pulse rate must have shot up to 180 as
I backed out of
the driveway and roared off. While cruising along ‘all on
my own,’ I began to
think wild stuff—like, This car can probably do a
hundred miles an
hour. I could go to Galveston and back twice in two hours
if I averaged 100
miles an hour. I can fly down the Gulf Freeway and even
run a few lights. After
all, nobody’s here to say ‘Don’t!’ We’re talking
dangerous, crazy thoughts! But you
know what? I didn’t do any of them. I
don’t believe I drove above the speed
limit. In fact, I distinctly remember
turning into the driveway early
. . . didn’t even stay away the full two hours.
Amazing, huh? I had
my dad’s car all to myself with a full gas tank in a
context of total privacy
and freedom, but I didn’t go crazy. Why? My
relationship with my dad and my
granddad was so strong that I couldn’t,
even though I had a license and nobody
was in the car to restrain me. Over
a period of time there had developed a
sense of trust, a deep love
relationship that held me in restraint.”1
Trust
and reliance on the Lord lead to obedience. The more we trust in
him, the more
he endows us with his power, his might, and his goodness.
He extends to us his
grace, a power that enables us to do things we could
not do on our own. Our
righteousness is then born of the Spirit, our works
are his works, and the
deeds we do have a lasting effect on our brothers and
sisters and a sanctifying
influence on ourselves.
A person
of another Christian faith once remarked to a friend of mine:
“You know,
there’s a passage in the Book of Mormon that needs a little
editing.”
Fascinated,
my friend asked, “What passage did you have in mind?”
The passage
was 2 Nephi 25:23: “For we labor
diligently to write, to
persuade our children, and also our brethren, to
believe in Christ, and to be
reconciled to God; for we know that it is by grace
that we are saved, after
all we can do.”
“How
would you change it?” my friend inquired.
“Well,”
the other fellow said, “it really should read, ‘ . . . for we know
that it is by grace that we are saved; after all, what can we do?’”
What can we do? To summarize the
principles we have studied,
consider the following suggestions:
Let
the past go. If you have done all that you can to rectify misdeeds or
poor judgments
of former times—including visiting with priesthood leaders
in the case of
serious sin—then move on. If anyone had a past that should
have haunted
him mercilessly, it was Saul of Tarsus, the great apostle of the
Gentiles we
know as Paul. He had persecuted the Church as an enemy of
the Christian faith.
And yet when his world was turned around, he let his
old life go. He
essentially buried the old man of sin and rose to a newness
of life in
Christ.
Paul
taught: “This one thing I do, forgetting those things which are
behind, and
reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press
toward the mark for the
prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus”
(Philippians 3:13–14;
emphasis added). Too many of us are prone to hang
on to our old sins by
refusing to forgive ourselves. Once godly sorrow and
appropriate repentance
have taken place, we need to trust that our Heavenly
Father—who knows all
things, including our standing before him—is wiser
than we are and knows
what is best for our souls. As John the Beloved
wrote: “For if our heart
condemn us, God is greater than our heart, and
knoweth all things” (1 John
3:20; emphasis added).
Simplify
our lives and focus more on essentials.
We
will not enjoy the
quiet and soft impressions of the Spirit if we live in the
midst of noise. We
cannot become an instrument of the Savior’s peace if we are
so busy and so
involved that we have neither time nor energy to be about our
Father’s
business of lifting and loving and serving our brothers and
sisters.
In the
same spirit, I believe it is vital that we teach and testify of
fundamental
doctrines—especially the doctrine of Christ—and focus our
attention
on the sacred truths that lead to faith and conversion and
conviction. We need
to take more walks and spend more time pondering
and prayerfully reflecting
upon the things of eternity. It has been in those
quiet settings that I have
sensed more completely my relationship to God,
his love for me and mine, and
the course in life he would have me pursue.
When the
Protestant theologian Karl Barth visited the University of
Chicago, a
questioner asked, “Dr. Barth, what is the most profound truth
you have learned
in your studies?” He quickly responded, “Jesus loves me,
this I know, for the
Bible tells me so.”2 A simple truth with profound
implications!
Learn
to be patient. God is in the process of working on us. He isn’t
finished yet, and so
we must fight the tendency to lose heart when we fall
short. Paul reminded the
Saints in his day that “now is our salvation nearer
than when we believed”
(Romans 13:11). We should be “confident of this
very thing, that he which hath
begun a good work in you will perform it
until the day of Jesus Christ”
(Philippians 1:6).
All that
we need to know, experience, and overcome will not take place
in this life. “It
is not all to be comprehended in this world,” Joseph Smith
taught. “It will be
a great work to learn our salvation and exaltation even
beyond the grave.”3
I am comforted by the words of C. S. Lewis: “On the
one hand, we must never
imagine that our own unaided efforts can be relied
on to carry us even through
the next twenty-four hours as ‘decent’ people.
If He does not support
us, not one of us is safe from some gross sin. On the
other hand, no possible
degree of holiness or heroism which has ever been
recorded of the greatest
saints is beyond what He is determined to produce
in every one of us in the
end. The job will not be completed in this life: but
He means to get us as far
as possible before death.”4
Learn
to “wait on the Lord.” To wait on the Lord is closely related to
having hope in the Lord. Waiting on and
hoping in the Lord are scriptural
words that focus not on frail and faltering mortals
but rather on a sovereign
and all-loving God, who fulfills his
promises to the people of promise in his
own time. Hope is more than worldly
wishing. It is expectation,
anticipation, assurance. We wait on the Lord
because we have hope in him.
“For we through the Spirit wait for the hope of
righteousness by faith”
(Galatians 5:5). Thus, we wait on the Lord, not in the
sense that we sit and
wring our hands and glance at our clocks frantically but
rather in that we
exercise patience in his providential hand, knowing full
well, by the power
of the Holy Ghost, that the Father of Lights will soon
transform a darkened
world, all in preparation for the personal ministry of the
Light of the World
(1 Corinthians 1:4–8).
To be impatient with God is to
lose sight of the truth—and thus require
regular reminders—that our
Heavenly Father loves us, is mindful of our
present problems and daily
dilemmas, and has a plan, both cosmic and
individual, for our happiness here
and our eternal reward hereafter.
To wait
on the Lord is to exercise a lively hope that the God who is in
his heaven is
also working upon and through his people on earth. As it was
anciently, so it
is in our day: the spiritual regeneration required of
individuals and
whole societies that results in the establishment of Zion
takes place “in
process of time” (Moses 7:21).
In
encouraging us to “put on the whole armour of God” (Ephesians
6:11), Paul
mentioned the various parts of the Christian soldier’s attire: the
girdle or
belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, shoes of readiness
that come
from the gospel of peace, the shield of faith, and the sword of the
Spirit
(Ephesians 6:11, 13–17). One final piece of armor is vital: the helmet
of
salvation, or, more particularly, the helmet of “the hope of salvation” (1
Thessalonians 5:8). Hope in Christ, assurance that we will through divine
assistance overcome the obstacles of life by faith and thus pass the tests
of
mortality—this hope is central to our arsenal against evil. It
produces a
quiet confidence in believers, such that we feel welcome and
empowered to
“come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy,
and find
grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:16; compare Moses 7:59).
Peter
counseled the people of the covenant: “Humble yourselves
therefore under the
mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time:
casting all your care
upon him;
for he careth for you” (1 Peter 5:6–7;
emphasis added). The Master’s
supernal promise is: “Come unto me, all ye
that labour and are heavy laden, and
I will give you rest. Take my yoke
upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and
lowly in heart: and ye shall
find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy,
and my burden is light”
(Matthew 11:28–30). Our burdens become light as
we turn them over to
him, whether that burden is a financial setback, a
wandering child, or some
personal struggle. Our crosses become so much lighter
as we surrender
them to him who died on the cross. The Crucified One offers the
blessed
assurance that he will “ease the burdens which are put upon your
shoulders,
even that you cannot feel them upon your backs” (Mosiah 24:14).
As we
mature spiritually, we learn to keep trying but to do so with a
greater measure
of trust and confidence. C. S. Lewis pointed out that
“handing everything over
to Christ does not, of course, mean that you stop
trying. To trust Him means,
of course, trying to do all that He says. There
would be no sense in saying you
trusted a person if you would not take his
advice. Thus, if you have really
handed yourself over to Him, it must follow
that you are trying to obey Him.
But trying in a new way, a less worried
way.”5
“To come
out of the world,” President Stephen L Richards observed,
“one must forsake the
philosophy of the world, and to come into Zion one
must adopt the philosophy of
Zion. In my own thinking I have reduced the
process to a very simple formula:
Forsake the philosophy of self-
sufficiency, which is the philosophy
of the world, and adopt the philosophy
of faith, which is the philosophy of Christ.
Substitute faith for self-
assurance.”6
Do
your best.
Give life your best shot. Elder James E. Talmage
encouraged the
Latter-day Saints to “be mindful of the fact that whether it
be the
gift of a man or a nation, the best, if offered willingly and with pure
intent,
is always excellent in the sight of God, however poor by other
comparison that
best may be.”7 Similarly, President Gordon B. Hinckley
counseled the
people of the covenant to “do the best that you can. That’s all
we ask of you.
Do the best that you can. The Lord doesn’t expect you to do
more than that.”8
We need
to be clear and straightforward in the expression of our faith
and in devotion
to the Lord Jesus Christ. President Gordon B. Hinckley
taught the Saints: “With
all of our doing, with all of our leading, with all of
our teaching, the most
important thing we can do for those whom we lead is
to cultivate in their
hearts a living, vital, vibrant testimony and knowledge
of the Son of God,
Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of the world, the Author of
our salvation, He who
atoned for the sins of the world and opened the way
of salvation and eternal
life. I would hope that in all we do we would
somehow constantly nourish the
testimony of our people concerning the
Savior. I am satisfied, I know it’s so,
that whenever a man has a true witness
in his heart of the living reality of
the Lord Jesus Christ all else will come
together as it should.”9
I
testify that there is a God in heaven, our Eternal Father. He is
omnipotent,
omniscient, and, by the power of his Spirit, omnipresent. He
knows us as his
children, and he loves us.
Our
Father has revealed, through the scriptures and the prophets, a
divine plan, a
system of salvation by which men and women can come to
know their God and
understand the purposes of life.
The fall
of Adam and Eve, which was a central part of God’s plan,
brought dramatic
changes to earth and to humankind. Without divine
assistance, mortals would be
forever subject to physical death and eternal
separation from God and things of
righteousness.
To
answer the effects of the Fall, Jesus Christ came to earth to teach the
gospel
and lead all humankind to the truth. He offered himself as a willing
sacrifice,
a substitutionary atonement, on our behalf, extended immortality
to all of God’s
children, and made eternal life available to those who come
unto Christ by
covenant.
Because
we are fallen creatures, we cannot merit anything of ourselves.
We cannot lift
the burdens of our own sins, nor can we save our own souls.
No one, save Jesus
only, has traveled life’s paths without sin. Therefore our
only hope is to lean
upon and trust in the Person who did keep God’s law
perfectly. Having faith in
Jesus is our only chance.
The
grace of God is more than just a final boost into celestial glory,
although we
will certainly be in need of such help. His grace is his
unmerited favor, the
unearned divine assistance, the enabling power that we
receive from day to day,
the power that equips us to do what we could never
do on our own.
Although
salvation is free and is the greatest of all the gifts of God,
there is
something we must do—we must receive the gift. True faith always
produces
faithfulness.
God and
man are at work together in the salvation of the human soul.
The real question
is not whether we are saved by grace or by works. The
real questions are these:
In whom do I trust? On whom do I rely? In his
poem Invictus, William Ernest Henley spoke of
man being the “master of
his fate” and the “captain of his soul.” Elder Orson
F. Whitney wrote a
resounding response:
Art thou in
truth? Then what of him
Who
bought thee with his blood?
Who plunged into

devouring seas
And
snatched thee from the flood?
Who bore for all

our fallen race
What
none but him could bear,
The God who died

that man might live,
And
endless glory share?
Of what avail thy

vaunted strength,
Apart
from his vast might?
Pray that his

Light may pierce the gloom,
That
thou mayest see aright.
Men are as
bubbles on the wave,
As
leaves upon the tree.
Thou, captain of
thy soul, forsooth!
Who
gave that place to thee?
Free will is
thine—free agency,
To
wield for right or wrong;
But thou must

answer unto him
To
whom all souls belong.
Bend to the dust

that head “unbowed,”
Small
part of Life’s great whole!
And see in him,

and him alone,
The Captain of thy soul.10
Jesus
Christ is the Light and the Life of the world (John 8:12; Mosiah
16:9; 3 Nephi
11:10–11). In him and in him alone is to be found the
abundant life (John
10:10). In him and in him alone is to be found a fulness
of joy (D&C
101:36). He is the Mediator, Intercessor, and Redeemer. In
him is the power
that may be extended to fallen men and women to become
the sons and daughters
of God, the means whereby we may resume, through
appropriate reconciliation, our
status in the royal family of God (John 1:11–
12; D&C 34:1–4).
If our gaze is upon the Savior, we need look nowhere
else. If our trust is in
him and his word, we need pay little heed to the
discordant voices all about
us. The invitation and challenge are ever before
us: “Look unto me in every
thought; doubt not, fear not” (D&C 6:36). I
pray that each of us will “seek
this Jesus of whom the prophets and apostles
have written, that the grace of
God the Father, and also the Lord Jesus
Christ, and the Holy Ghost, which
beareth record of them, may be and
abide in you forever. Amen” (Ether 12:41).
Notes
^1.
1. Swindoll, Grace Awakening, 47–48; emphasis in original.
^2.
2. Cited in Yancey, What’s So
Amazing about Grace? 67.
^3.
Joseph Smith, 348.
^4.
^5.
5. Lewis, Mere Christianity, 130–31; emphasis added.
^6.
6. Richards, Where Is Wisdom? 49.
^7.
7. Talmage, House of the Lord, 3.
^8.
8. Hinckley, in Church News, 31 August 2002, 3.
^9.
9. Hinckley, Teachings of Gordon B.
Hinckley, 648.
^10.
10. Whitney, “The Soul’s Captain,” Improvement
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Grace Works Robert L. Millet

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After All We Can Do

© 2003 Robert L. Millet.

2. Church of Jesus Christ of

Publishers Printing, Salt Lake City, Utah 72076-7033

A prominent Church leader mentioned to me that while on

Too Good to Be True

Not long ago, a student sat in my

As we begin our brief study, perhaps it would be well

Come, thou Fount

Call for songs of

Praise the mount;

Let thy goodness,

Prone to leave the

Seal it for thy

I remember vividly the mixed emotions I felt when my colleague

And he has sent me here,

Has given me an earthly home

With parents kind and dear.

Lead me, guide me, walk beside me,

Help me find the way.

Teach me all that I must do

To live with him some day.

And so my needs are great;

Help me to understand his words

Before it grows too late.

Rich blessings are in store;

If I but learn to do his will

That’s only half the view:

If I don’t shed the natural man,

I’m lost, and so are you.

Lead me, guide me, reconcile me;

Help me overcome the Fall;

Grant me second birth.

But that doesn’t clear the slate:

I’m carnal, sensual, devilish, too,

In a lost and fallen state.

Save me, change me, rearrange me,

Gracious God above:

Cleave unto my broken heart;

Bestow redeeming love.

Yet I’ve become his child

Through faith in his Beloved Son’s

Lead me, guide me, justify me,

Cleanse me, make me pure;

Help me love as thou hast loved,

Amazing grace! how sweet the sound,

That saved a wretch like me!

I once was lost, but now am found,

Was blind, but now I see.

’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,

And grace my fears relieved;

How precious did that grace appear

The hour I first believed!

Thro’ many dangers, toils, and snares,

I have already come;

’Tis grace hath bro’t me safe thus far,

And grace will lead me home.

When we’ve been there ten thousand years.

Bright shining as the sun,

We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise

On which the Prince of glory died,

My richest gain I count but loss,

And pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,