Believing Christ
To have faith in Jesus Christ, we must learn to believe his promise of eternal life.
One of the most terrifying dilemmas in the universe consists of two facts. The first is expressed in Doctrine and Covenants 1:31: “I the Lord cannot look upon sin with the least degree of allowance.” [D&C 1:31]
That means he can’t tolerate it. He can’t blink or look the other way.
The other fact is very simply put: We all sin. If the equation consisted
of only those two facts, the conclusion would be inescapable: As sinful
beings, we can never enter God’s presence.
But that is not all there is. There is the atonement of Jesus Christ—that glorious plan by which this dilemma can be resolved.
And the amazing thing is that the Atonement works in practical ways.
Believing Christ
When my son
Michael was six or seven, he did something I thought was wrong. He is my
only son, and I want him to be better than his dad was. So when he
slipped up, I sent him to his room with the instructions, “Don’t you
dare come out until I come and get you!”
And then I
forgot. Some hours later, as I was watching television, I heard his door
open and tentative footsteps coming down the hall. I slapped my
forehead and ran to meet him. There he was with swollen eyes and tears
on his cheeks. He looked up at me—not quite sure he should have come
out—and said, “Dad, can’t we ever be friends again?” I melted and pulled
him to me. He’s my boy, and I love him.
We all do
things that disappoint our Father in Heaven, that separate us from his
presence, his Spirit. There are times when we get sent to our rooms,
spiritually though not physically. When that happens, we sometimes lift
up our eyes and say, “O Father, can’t we ever be friends again?” The
answer, found in all the scriptures, is a resounding “Yes—through the
atonement of Christ.” I particularly like the way it is put in Isaiah
1:18: “Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your
sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.” [Isa. 1:18]
To have faith in Jesus Christ is not merely to believe that he is who he says he is. It is not merely to believe in Christ; we must also believe
Christ. Both as a bishop and as a teacher, I have heard several
variations on a theme of doubt. Some have said, “Bishop, I’ve sinned too
horribly. I’ll be active in the Church, and I hope for some reward. But
I couldn’t ever hope to be exalted after what I’ve done.” Others have
said, “I’m weak and imperfect. I don’t have all the talents that Brother
Jones (or Sister Smith) does. I’ll never be the bishop (or the Relief
Society president). I’m just average. I expect my reward in eternity
will be a little lower than theirs.”
All of these
are variations on the same theme: “I do not believe Christ can do what
he claims. I have no faith in his ability to exalt me.”
I once
counseled a man who said, “Bishop, I’m just not celestial material.”
Well, I’d heard those words once too often, so I said, “You’re not
celestial material? Welcome to the club. Not one of us is! Not one of us
qualifies on our own for the presence of God. So why don’t you admit
your real problem? Why don’t you admit that you don’t believe Christ can
do what he says he can do?”
He got angry. “I have a testimony of Jesus!”
I said, “Yes, you believe in Christ. You simply do not believe Christ. He says that even though you are not celestial, he can make you celestial—but you don’t believe it.”
Why He Is Called the Savior
Sometimes the
demand for perfection drives us to despair. More than a decade ago, my
wife and I were living in Pennsylvania. Things seemed to be going well.
I’d been promoted in my work and was also serving in the bishopric.
Janet had given birth to our fourth child, had graduated from college,
had passed the CPA exam, and had been called to serve as Relief Society
president. We were busy but happy, and I thought we were doing the right
things.
Then my wife
began to feel an overpowering sense of discouragement. She asked to be
released from her callings, and try as I might, I could not get her to
tell me what was wrong.
One night,
after two weeks of being prodded by a sometimes insensitive but worried
husband, she finally said, “All right. You want to know what’s wrong? I
can’t do it anymore. I can’t get up at 5:30 in the morning to bake bread
and help my kids with their homework and do my own homework. I can’t do
my Relief Society stuff and get my genealogy done and sew and go to the
PTA meetings and write the missionaries. …”
She added, “I
don’t have the talent that Sister Morrell has. I can’t do what Sister
Childs does. I try not to yell at the kids, but I do. I’m not perfect,
and I’m never going to be perfect. I’m afraid I’m not going to make it
to the celestial kingdom.”
I said, “Janet, I know you have a testimony. …”
“Of course I
do! That’s what’s so terrible. I know the gospel’s true. I just can’t do
it. I’ve tried and I’ve tried, but I can’t do it all, all of the time.”
It was a long
night. At last we came to understand what was wrong. We realized, after
talking together, that Janet was trying to save herself. She knew that
Jesus is an adviser and a teacher. She knew that he is an example, the
head of the Church, our Elder Brother, and even God. She knew all that,
but she did not understand His role as the Savior.
We all fail
at living the full celestial level. That’s why we need a Savior. The
Lord says, “Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after
righteousness: for they shall be filled.” (Matt. 5:6.)
We frequently misinterpret that verse. We think it means “Blessed are
the righteous.” It does not. When are you hungry? When are you thirsty?
When you don’t have the object of your desire. It is those who don’t have the righteousness that God has—but who hunger and thirst after it—who are blessed, for if that is the desire of their hearts, the Lord will help them achieve it.
Becoming One with Christ
Perfection
comes through the atonement of Jesus Christ. That happens as we become
one with him, a perfect being. It is like a merger. If you take a small,
bankrupt firm that is about to go under and merge it with a corporate
giant, what happens? Their assets and liabilities flow together, and the
new entity that is created is solvent.
This is
similar to what happens spiritually when we enter into a covenant with
the Savior. We have liabilities; he has assets. So he proposes a
covenant relationship. Jesus is sometimes called the Bridegroom and the
Church the Bride, because of their close association under the covenant.
After the covenant is made, I become one with Christ, and as partners
we work together toward my exaltation. My liabilities and his assets
flow into each other. I do all that I can do, and he does what I cannot
yet do. For now, in partnership we are perfect, through His perfection.
What heavier
burden is there than the demand we sometimes place on ourselves to be
perfect now, in this life? But Jesus proposes: “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.” (Matt. 11:28–30.)
Trust Me
Nephi was one
of the great prophets, yet he recognized his need for the Savior. In 2
Nephi 4:17–18, we read of his anguish: “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.” [2 Ne. 4:17–18]
Did Nephi understand his mortal condition?
Oh, yes. But the key to his greatness is what comes next: “Nevertheless, I know in whom I have trusted.” (2 Ne. 4:19.)
I had a
friend who used to say frequently, “Well, I figure my life is half over
and I’m halfway to the celestial kingdom, so I’m right on schedule.”
One day I asked her, “What happens if you die tomorrow?” It was the first time the thought had occurred to her.
“Let’s see, halfway to the celestial kingdom is … mid-terrestrial! That’s not good enough!”
We need to
know that because of the covenant we have made with the Savior, if we
should die tomorrow, we still have hope of the celestial kingdom. That
hope is one of the promised blessings of our covenant relationship. Yet
many of us do not understand that promise or take advantage of it.
When our twin
daughters were young, Janet and I decided to teach them to swim. I
started with Rebekah. As we went down into the public pool together, I
thought, “I’m going to teach her to swim.” But she thought, “I’m going
to drown!” The water was only three and one-half feet deep, but Becky
was only three feet tall. She was so terrified that she began to scream
and kick. She was unteachable.
Finally, I
held her close and said, “Becky, I’ve got you. I’m your dad. I love you.
I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. Now relax.” And bless
her heart, she relaxed. She trusted me. I put my arms under her and
said, “Okay, now kick your legs.” And she began to learn how to swim.
Spiritually,
some of us are so terrified by the questions “Am I celestial? Am I going
to make it?” that we cannot make any progress. We’re petrified by our
fear. But if we’re trying to follow his teachings and paying attention,
we can almost feel the Savior’s arms around us and feel those assurances
as the Spirit whispers of the Savior’s love for us: I love you. Trust
me. And if we do trust him, he can begin to help us live the gospel. It
is as if he supports us, whispering through the Spirit: Okay, now attend
sacrament meeting. Very good. Now accept a call to serve. And so we begin to make progress.
Alma 34:14–16
makes it clear that Christ’s atonement was infinite and eternal. As
such, it enables mercy to overpower justice so we can have the faith to
repent. “And thus mercy can satisfy the demands of justice, and
encircles [us] in the arms of safety.”
“The arms of safety”—that is my favorite phrase from the Book of Mormon.
Do Latter-day
Saints believe in being saved? Of course we do. That’s why Jesus is
called the Savior. What good is it to have a Savior if no one is saved?
It’s like having a lifeguard that won’t get out of the chair.
The great
truth of the gospel is that we have a Savior who can and will save us
from ourselves, from what we lack, from our imperfections, from the
carnality within us, if we seek his help. In vision, Joseph Smith described those in the celestial kingdom in these terms:
“These are they whose names are written in heaven, where God and Christ are the judge of all.
“These are they who are just men made perfect through Jesus the mediator of the new covenant.” (D&C 76:68–69.)
Just men and women—those who hunger and thirst after righteousness—made perfect through Jesus Christ, our mediator.
Give Him All
As my wife
and I talked that night about feelings of inadequacy, I groped for some
way to help. I finally remembered something that had happened a couple
of months earlier. In our home it is now called the parable of the
bicycle.
I was sitting
in a chair reading. My daughter, Sarah, who was seven years old at the
time, came in and said, “Dad, can I have a bike? I’m the only kid on the
block who doesn’t have one.”
Well, I didn’t have the money then for a bike, so I stalled her. I said, “Sure, Sarah.”
She said, “How? When?”
I said, “You save all your pennies, and soon you’ll have enough for a bike.” And she went away.
A couple ofs
weeks later I was sitting in the same chair when I heard a “clink,
clink” in Sarah’s bedroom. I asked, “Sarah, what are you doing?”
She came to
me with a little jar, a slit cut in the lid, and a bunch of pennies in
the bottom. She said, “You promised me that if I saved all my pennies,
pretty soon I’d have enough for a bike. And, Daddy, I’ve saved every
single one of them.”
My heart
melted. My daughter was doing everything in her power to follow my
instructions. I hadn’t actually lied to her. If she saved all of her
pennies, she would eventually have enough for a bike, but by then she
would want a car. I said, “Let’s go look at bikes.”
We went to every store in town. Finally we found it—the perfect
bicycle. She was thrilled. Then she saw the price tag, and her face
fell. She started to cry. “Oh, Dad, I’ll never have enough for a
bicycle!”
So I said, “Sarah, how much do you have?”
She answered, “Sixty-one cents.”
“I’ll tell
you what. You give me everything you’ve got and a hug and a kiss, and
the bike is yours.” Then I drove home very slowly because she insisted
on riding the bike home.
As I drove
beside her, I thought of the atonement of Christ. We all desperately
want the celestial kingdom. We want to be with our Father in Heaven. But
no matter how hard we try, we come up short. At some point all of us
must realize, “I can’t do this by myself. I need help.” Then it is that
the Savior says, in effect, All right, you’re not perfect. But what can you do? Give me all you have, and I’ll do the rest.
He still
requires our best effort. We must keep trying. But the good news is that
having done all we can, it is enough. We may not be personally perfect
yet, but because of our covenant with the Savior, we can rely on his perfection, and his perfection will get us through.
As Janet and I
internalized how the Atonement works, we wept. “I’ve always believed
that Jesus suffered and died for me,” Janet said. “But now I realize
that he must save me from myself, from my sins and my weaknesses.”
I rejoice in
the words of 2 Nephi 2:8: “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 Ne. 2:8]
There is no other way. Many of us are trying to save ourselves, holding
the atonement of Jesus Christ at arm’s distance and saying, “When I’ve
perfected myself, then I’ll be worthy of the Atonement.” But that’s not
how it works. That’s like saying, “I won’t take the medicine until I’m
well. I’ll be worthy of it then.”
One of my
favorite hymns reads: “Dearly, dearly has he loved! And we must love him
too, and trust in his redeeming blood, and try his works to do.”
(“There Is a Green Hill Far Away,” Hymns, 1985, no. 194.)
Truly, we
must try to do his works with all that is in us. But then, having done
all, we can trust in his redeeming blood to do for us what we cannot do
for ourselves.
If we will
enter into that glorious covenant Jesus offers us and give him all that
we have, holding nothing back, trusting in his ability to make up for
what we lack, he will exalt us. With him pulling with and for us, we can
move forward in confidence toward our celestial home.
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