45 Years Young

I'm turning 45 and I've been reflecting on the road I've travelled so far (and on the road ahead).

I exist now in the hinterland of middle-age, somewhere between "hip" and "hip replacement."

I wanted to share some of the lessons I've learned in this life that I wish my younger-self had known.  (Maybe I'll update this post in another 45 years; there are lots of lessons I still haven't learned.  I've told the Lord He's going to have to work hard to get His money's worth with me.)

I've written previously about growing up in the Church, being taught to "keep the commandments."  That seemed to be the main message I heard as a youth going to Seminary in Utah, attending Sunday School and Young Men's.  As a freshman at BYU preparing for a mission, it was all about 'exact obedience.'

I tried to keep my nose clean; this was a few years before the Brethren "raised the bar" for missionaries, so I squeaked by.

On campus, my first job as a freshman was a janitor.  Between 4 a.m. and 8 a.m. each weekday, I cleaned the toilets and vacuumed the classrooms of the George H. Brimhall building.  As I emptied the trash cans (while trying to stay awake), I dreamed of baptizing thousands and thousands of souls (like Ammon and his brethren).  Of course, this was before I received my mission call to Paris, France.

But here's the thing: humans are creatures of reduction.  It's in our nature to abbreviate, to shorten things down to nubs.  Names become nicknames; "Timothy" became "Tim" (except to my mother).  The gospel, like everything else, becomes a jumble of acronyms if we're not careful. 

So it was with "obedience."  Especially with obedience!  We have a way of shrinking the gospel to the point we start believing "faithfulness" to Christ means doing what the Church wants ― you know, avoiding alcohol and R-rated movies and heavy petting.  Getting good grades.  Keeping curfew.

​I was raised as a Pharisee, of the tribe of Happy Valley, committing the sin of reductionism ― leaving the weightier matters undone while feeling pleased with my offering of mint and anise (Matt. 23:23).

Now I realize, looking back, that I wasn't actually taught "the gospel" at Church while growing up.  Instead I was taught "gospel living."

You might think "gospel living" would be near-adjacent to the gospel itself (almost interchangeable), but in fact they are not.  They could not be farther apart.  (Further apart?  See, lots to learn.)

But don't worry, it turned out okay; everything turned out fine for me.  Why?  Well, I had awesome parents, which helped.  But I'll tell you a secret.  It was because I had the scriptures ― and they contained the fulness of the gospel (even if my Sunday School lessons did not, which resembled the doctrinal equivalent of the 1970s baseball baptisms).

Equipped with the word of God, I was able to get by, rolling my eyes at the nonsense in the Church.

Worthiness Issues

I recall as a youth going every six months to see the bishop, from the time I was twelve until I was twenty-one (by then I had graduated to my mission president).  These men interviewed me regarding my "worthiness" (read: sexual activities).

As an adult now, I see the irony of the church wrapping its purity culture within a theology that glorifies eternal procreation, making coitus the crowning, defining faculty of exalted beings ― and at the same time, the sin next to murder.

I suspect our LDS doctrine would fit neatly within the context of the ancient fertility cults and their temple worship described in the Old Testament (remember Asherah's "groves" that the Lord condemned?).

   And Samuel spake
   unto all the house of Israel,   
   saying:
 
   If ye do return unto the Lord
   with all your hearts,
   then put away the strange gods
   and Ashtaroth from among you,
   and prepare your hearts
   unto the Lord,
   and serve him only:
   and he will deliver you.

(1 Sam. 7:3)

I fear we are not so different from our Israelite forbearers, who served many masters, and who glorified and venerated the procreative act religiously as the sacred symbol of divine union (cue: eternal marriage doctrine; cue plural marriage doctrine; and don't forget Elder Holland's talk on Souls, Symbols and Sacraments) ― despite the fact that Jesus taught an entirely different gospel than the one we've dressed in sexual ethics (albeit sprinkled with a dash of Victorian prudishness for good measure, the panache of puritanism).

This becomes important, I think, when we realize it has led to faith dwindling in our churches; we have relegated faith to the nose-bleed section while leasing the skybox to tithing and chastity ― things which, let's be honest, were not high on Christ's list (as evidenced by the fact He declared the scandalous truth that harlots would enter the kingdom of God before the scribes and Pharisees (Matt. 21:31)).

I share this to give you a glimpse at how confused my spiritual antennae were as a youth, being told by Elder Gene R. Cook to not listen to the sweaty rock-and-roll music of sex-crazed Mick Jagger, while at the same time reading Brigham Young opine on the mechanics of Heavenly Father's sexual relations with Mary.

Anyway, young people are not stupid; I picked up on the signals, on the way leaders prioritized their peculiar brand of chastity over faith, which drove them to ask me probing questions about whether I was controlling my hormones, but never about my beliefs.

Case in point: during my pre-marriage temple recommend interview as a 27-year-old man, I sat down with a counselor in the Stake Presidency who asked me if I let my fiancée lie on top of me when we watched movies on the sofa at my apartment ― and I nearly derailed the whole shebang when I answered truthfully, "Yes!"

This all contrasted with the fact I was never asked whether I loved my neighbor or held a grudge against my brother.  It revealed to me what was truly important in the Church.  Sex: check.  Faith: not so much.

If you asked me why I think we've created such a sexualized religion (in which TK Smoothies are a thing), and why we've saturated the gospel with managing the sexual behavior of the members, I would say it's because Faith is too abstract; too squirrelly.  It was far easier for my leaders to track objective measures, like whether I smoked cigarettes or drank coffee or made it to third base, to gauge my worthiness, than it was for them to look at my heart and real intent.

Searching for Faith

I am not what you would call a "visionary man."  But in graduate school I had a vivid dream in which I found myself at a meeting of the Twelve and First Presidency, and able to ask them anything.  At the time I was a curious soul, and I had a million questions.  But strangely I found my tongue tied.

I awoke and understood the interpretation of the dream: the answers I sought were not to be found from man or by men (Gal. 1:12).  In order to learn the deep things of God, I knew I would need to be taught from above.

And so it became my custom to go to the Lord ― not to General Conference talks ― seeking wisdom.

This turned out to be a good thing, in the end, learning spiritual self-reliance.  Because I've concluded based on my experience in the Church that we do not believe ― not really, at least not with any great conviction ― the idea that "men [are] saved by faith" (Moroni 7:26).

Oh, calm down.  It's true we talk a good game (Isaiah 29:13), and we talk about faith all the time at Church.  But if you listen carefully, you'll hear that our faith is not so much in Christ, but in having prophets who hold authority to perform the saving ordinances that allow us to make covenants in the temple, without which we could not be exalted; all of which is sponsored by Christ, of course, much as Motorola sponsors the World Cup; we won't necessarily see Christ out on the soccer field, but maybe we'll catch a glimpse of Him on the jumbotron if we "stay in the boat" / "stay on the covenant path" / "stay close to the Brethren."  Just stay.  That's the important thing.

Ask yourself: if we stripped away our faith in the Church's machinery, what's left over?  Ask yourself: is it really "faith" if it is placed in priesthood keys rather than in Christ's mercy?

I have friends and family who see no distinction; who view faith in the Church as the same thing as faith in Christ (for isn't it His church?).

But I fear we have been deceived (D&C 45:57).  Just look at the fruits among us.  Faith has become a wallflower at the Stake Youth Dance: present, surely, but overshadowed by the loud music and strobe lights, the spiked punch.  Those are the things that get our blood pumping; they are the things we preach ― like chastity, tithing, duty, covenants, the Word of Wisdom, and a thousand other things.

Instead of raising an ensign to the nations as a city set on a hill, we raised money and called it our Ensign (Peak), buying the hill's real estate for our investment trust fund.

So please don't misunderstand: the Latter-day Saints are a people of faith.  I am merely pointing out our faith is not firmly planted in Christ's merits alone, but moreso placed in the Church's merits.

We crave carnal security: the concrete assurances we're on the straight-and-narrow ― things like tithing receipts and breathalyzer tests and ministering statistics; titles and offices and keys and covenants and keywords.  These are the tools with which we have dug a pit for our faith, all the while telling ourselves we were laying the foundation of Zion, shovel-to-shoulder.

And thus I was trained to prove my candidacy for salvation through obedience, and to demonstrate my bona fides by actively participating in tedious, uninspired meetings and by staying afterwards to take down the folding chairs; it was noted whether I accepted assignments without complaint or turned down callings; my reputation was discussed in leadership meetings and Ward Council as people reported on whether I showed up to help the move-ins and move-outs; they watched how I dressed my little children, whether they wore black, polished Sunday shoes or if my theology was too liberal, resembling Birkenstocks over laced Oxfords.

And (most importantly) whether I held my tongue as a good "church-broke" member, as a sheep before the shearer is dumb.
​
These and a thousand other details were monitored and weighed and measured ― but never, ever, was I asked to take seriously the belief I was saved through faith in Christ.

No, I was always taught to take seriously the fact that I was saved through faith in His Church.

Nepo Babies

I'm a nepo baby; I am a child of Christ and a son of God.

As I mentioned earlier, my lifeline to God was studying the scriptures.  My favorite teaching on salvation was found in the words of Alma the younger, after he rose from his two-day coma (remember, the time he nearly died of shock after seeing the angel of the Lord?).

I would like us to take a page out of Alma's playbook.  Alma's words contrast sharply with today's mantra to "stay on the covenant path and you'll be saved."

Mosiah 27:24-25:

   I have repented of my sins

Well, this is interesting.  Notice he spoke in past-tense.  "I have repented."  Right away we learn something that is at odds with how we teach "repentance" in the Church.

You see, Alma just rose from the near-grave, and had repented while he was comatose.  On the other hand, we make repentance much harder than necessary (just read Miracle of Forgiveness to get an idea). 

But here is Alma saying he repented without months-and-months of successful check-ins with the bishop regarding his abstinence!  He hasn't even had time to make restitution.  Come on, wasn't he one of the "vilest" of sinners; where's the apology tour?  Let's wait a year and see whether he's sincere or not.

Nope.  Two days!  All it took was for Alma to cry out in anguish, in the gall of bitterness, "O Jesus, thou Son of God, have mercy on me" (Alma 36:18).  That's it.  And he was forgiven.  Clean slate.  Past-tense.

And here we thought the Pharisees were the only ones who "shut the door of heaven in people's faces" (Matt. 23:13, NIV).  Hardly.  We've got a Church Handbook that is just as effective for a good slap-in-the-face.

   and have been redeemed
   of the Lord

What?  Are you kidding me: this was the guy that went about trying to destroy the church of God last weekend, who did not believe in Christ at all just two days ago.  And now all of the sudden the Lord and Alma are bosom buddies?  The Lord redeemed him?  Just like that?

I thought Alma needed to enter into a series of progressive covenants and receive the baptism of fire and have 1st Presidency approval for his rebaptism; didn't he need to make his calling and election sure, and to be carried atop a mountain to receive his temple tokens and all that?  How dare he be redeemed so easily!  It offends our modern sensibilities.

   behold, 
   I am born of the Spirit.

No, no, no.  This is not how it is supposed to work!  No, Alma, you don't get to cry out during a single, pitiful moment and get reborn; you haven't earned it!

Maybe years from now, with enough prayer and fasting and penitence (Alma 5:46), you can say this.  But not yet.

   And the Lord said unto me:
   Marvel not

See why the Lord has to say this?  It is a marvel.  For some reason we are shocked by God's grace and mercy; it runs counter our sense of justice.  It seems to knock our socks off every time the Lord waves His hand and declares, "Be thou whole," as if we were expecting Him to smite us instead (or rather, to smite our neighbor who really deserves it).

Of all the reasons God must weep, the fact we are so stingy with His lovingkindness must be near the top of the list.

   that all mankind
   yea, men and women, 
   all nations, kindreds, tongues
   and people

Wow, that's thorough!  Seems this applies to everyone; a universal condition, which is exceedingly rare in scripture.  I am all ears.  He's about to tell us what we must all do.

   must be born again

Now, to the Church's credit, we do have Sunday School lessons on being born again (usually when we cover John 3 where Jesus teaches this to Nicodemus).

What does it mean to be born again?  How are we born again?  How do we know if we have been reborn?
  
   and thus they become
   new creatures   

Well, yes, we've heard this before; the apostle Paul talked a lot about it; King Benjamin preached it; King Lamoni experienced it.  But this is metaphorical, right?  We all know leopards don't change their spots.

Now, please pay attention to this next part; everything I have shared has led up to this single word: "inherit."

   and unless they do this,
   they can in nowise inherit
   the kingdom of God.

(Mosiah 27:24-25)

Ask yourself: who inherits something?  It appears our exaltation is not something you can earn, or merit, or obtain by any other means.  We aren't saved because of x, y, z.  

We are saved because we are Christ's children.  Exaltation can only be inherited.

And who inherits?  Well, obviously the answer is: an heir.  And who are heirs of eternal lives?  Who does God bequeath His entire estate to upon the Cross, upon the death of the Testator?

   Surprise! ​

Wills and Trusts and Executors

If faith is the work of creation, then the work of repentance is re-creation.

   For he is the mediator
   of the new testament, 
   that . . . they might receive
   the promise of eternal
   inheritance.

Ah, there's that word again: inheritance.

   For where a testament is,
   there must also of necessity be
   the death of the testator.

How very lawyerly; I feel right at home.  God is really good at Estate Planning; I mean, He got us to this estate, hasn't He?

   Whereupon [a] testament
   [cannot be] dedicated
   without blood.

(Hebrews 9:15-16, 18)

I like to think of faith as being represented by water; repentance by blood.  In Christ's living water we are cleansed; in His blood we are reborn.

Spiritual justification is not a static condition; we are dynamic, eternal beings who are working in the dirt of this mortality and clay to harvest fruit; we're bound to get our hands dirty.  No one expects a farmer to keep his clothes clean while out in the field milking the cows and shoveling hay.

Christ's living water is like a stream running through the middle of the pasture, this earth; the farmer can wash the muck from his sleeves as needed; it is ever-present, endlessly flowing.  There is no fence or gate restricting access to the bubbling brook.  There's enough water for all of us.  All are welcome.  We are literally, spiritually, awash in its currents.  Right now.

This is why our sins are of no great matter to God; He merely has to wave his hand and declare, "Be thou clean" (Matt. 8:3) ― and we are!

Our sins fall away and are forgotten as insignificantly as the raw chicken you washed from your hands in the kitchen sink last week when making dinner.  Have you thought of it since?  Of course not.

It's as easy for God to make us clean as it is for a mother to remove ticks from her child's back after playing in the forest.  I mean, we don't fault the child for being dirty; we fault the mother if she leaves her child that way!

​So it is with God: it is His business, not ours, really, to make us clean.

No Unclean Thing

"But Tim," someone says, "Isn't it true that 'no unclean thing' can enter into God's presence?"

   And no unclean thing
   can enter into his kingdom;
   therefore nothing
   entereth into his rest
   save it be those
   who have washed
   their garments
   in my blood

Well this is interesting.  Blood is different than water.  While blood contains water (about half of it is water), we find far, far more in it than just H2O.

We don't bathe in blood.  Blood stains; it leaves an indelible mark.  If you're a criminal, you'll want to avoid leaving blood behind at the crime scene because blood carries our genetic makeup and fingerprint (just some free advice). 

Whereas we use water to cleanse the outer-vessel (the outside of something), blood is a property of the inner-man, found inside us.

The question is, then, how can we wash our garments in Christ's blood (is this talking about our bodies, the garment of the holy priesthood, that clothes our spirit?).

Christ tells us how to get His blood in our veins:

   because of their faith,
   and the repentance
   of all their sins.

(3 Nephi 27:19)

So Christ gives us a very simple answer: have faith and repent.  I want to suggest that sanctification is found NOT in receiving Christ's blood, but in becoming Christ's blood ― i.e., His "seed" or children.  This is how we inherit eternal life.  There is nothing eternal outside of His blood.

But unless you're a butcher, when are you covered in blood?  The only time we're "covered" in blood from head-to-toe is when we're born, during childbirth.

   Ye must be born again
   into the kingdom of heaven,
   of water, and of the Spirit,
   and be cleansed by blood,
   even the blood of mine
   Only Begotten;

   For by the water
   ye keep the commandment;
   by the Spirit ye are justified,
   and by the blood
   ye are sanctified.

(Moses 6:59-60)

This imagery evokes baptism (death and resurrection), which is a symbol of rebirth.  Be aware that the faith we have prior to our spiritual rebirth and the faith we have afterwards are different creatures, as a caterpillar differs from a butterfly.

Faith will always draw us unto Christ; but after we become His child ― endowed with His blood ― our faith emerges from its cocoon and takes flight.

In Christ Jesus we are orphans no more, but children claimed.

Napoleon Not-So-Dynamite
​
I was 20 years old.

At the time, I was a missionary serving in Brittany, France.

I remember it being a muggy summer, just before Y2K.  I was a new Trainer (for those of you who aren't familiar with the lingo, a Trainer is a senior companion who is paired with a newbie fresh from the homeland).

Several elders and sisters in my district got a little too chummy, so the Mission President exiled them to separate corners of the mission in what we called "Midnight Transfers."

Morale was low.  It probably wouldn't surprise anyone that Brittany was not a high-baptizing area (of course, neither was the France Paris Mission: our whole mission had only 200 baptisms per year).  We used to joke while tracting that every time we knocked on a door, someone was being baptized in South America.

My trainee spoke not a lick of French.  Though I had studied French in high school and in college, I never felt fluent.  They could spot my American accent a mile away.  Nobody mistook me for a native; my voice stuck out like a sore thumb.

And since my companion couldn't communicate in French, I was forced to carry all the conversations.  I was homesick.

I was miserable.

"Blah Blah, Blah Blah, Blah"
​
A newborn baby can't see; babies are born blind (it takes awhile for their vision to develop).

And yet, even without sight, babies can recognize their mother.  How?  Well, by her voice.  Really!  Babies become familiar with their mother's voice in the womb.

Think about that.  So it is with God.  The Lectures on Faith teach that in order to exercise faith in Him, we need "a correct idea of His character, perfections and attributes." (Lecture 3:4).  Like newborn babes, we recognize Him by His voice (John 10:4).

At the end of the day, God's character and perfections and attributes are all found in the words He speaks.  Since He cannot lie, His words are not distinct from Him; they ARE Him!  Thus Jesus is called "the Word" of God (John 1:1).

   And God said:
   Let there be light. 

(Genesis 1:3)

You'd think the correlation of "light" would be seeing, but it's actually hearing.  Case in point: after the resurrection, Mary failed to recognize Christ at the tomb (thinking He was the gardener), even though she stared right at Him.

Yes, that's right: someone as familiar with Jesus as Mary couldn't recognize Him.  It was not until He spoke her name ― "Mary" (John 20:16) ― that, hearing His voice, her eyes were opened.

Perhaps that's true for all of us: Hearing God's voice is what opens our eyes.

Like little children in Christ, we know our Father by hearing Him long before our spiritual vision develops.  Maybe that's what it means to "walk by faith" (or as is more often the case, "crawl by faith").

Another example is found in the First Vision.  What did the Father tell Joseph Smith to do?  See Him?  Watch Him?  Smell Him?  Touch Him?

No:

   This is My Beloved Son.
   Hear Him!

(JS-H 1:17)

We "see" the truth of the whole matter in Paul's words:

   So then faith
   cometh by hearing,
   and hearing
   by the word of God.

(Romans 10:17)

What do you hear?

Ferris Bueller's P-Day Off

​If you've never been to Brittany, France, I hope you get the chance to visit someday.  There is a special spirit connected to the land (partly due, I think, to its Celtic heritage).  You can feel it in the rocks and trees.  If ever a place "spoke" to me, it was in Brittany and Normandy.

If you're wondering what I'm talking about, just look up the standing stones of Carnac.

But I didn't meet God out in nature.  My Sacred Grove didn't involve trees or sunshine.  It happened in a rented kitchen above a little grocery store in Brest, France.

Looking back now, I realize I wasn't a very good missionary; I was too focused on obedience and following the mission rules.  Which sounds ironic, I know.  But it's true: I was the perfect Elder ― and yet, a poor representative of Christ.

I have learned that a culture of strict ("exact") obedience foists us into the role of the Priest and Levite from the Savior's parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:29-37) ― the mantle of duty becomes an excuse, a privilege, preventing us from crossing the road to minister to those who need our help, but who live outside our district boundaries, or whose needs extend past our 9:30 p.m. curfew, or whose wounds we dare not risk bringing into our mission apartment.

I share this so you may understand that "worthiness" is not a precondition to hearing God.  It wasn't for me.  Quite the opposite!  Far more likely, we'll encounter the Lord when we're half-naked, bloodied-and-beaten, lying in some street-gutter near Jericho (Luke 10:30).

That's where I was, spiritually-speaking, in the summer of 1999.  Just a lonely, sunburned, self-righteous missionary who felt like a failure.

Rosetta Stones

Scientists say there's a "sweet spot" for learning languages during childhood.  After the age of about 10, our brains develop in such a way that it's nearly impossible for a person to achieve the proficiency of a native speaker.

Now, unlike our physical bodies, our intelligences do not age.  Spirits don't grow flabby skin; they are cellulite-free.  Whether we are five for fifty or ninety-and-nine (Luke 15:7), it is never too late to learn God's language.

Well, it's not so much "learning" a new language as it is remembering what we've forgotten.  All of our spirits are "native" with Christ's; His light (the light of Christ) is part of our spiritual makeup.  We merely have to awaken to what is already within us (3 Nephi 11:5).

As Christ's children who have been born again (Mosiah 27:25), we speak the same language.  The native tongue of Christ's children (and of His angels) is not French or Arabic or Italian (and certainly not German); it is the Pure Love of Christ (Ether 12:34).

Have you heard?  Christ's words carry a distinctive sound (i.e., spirit).  It is a voice that "edifies" (D&C 50:23).

There's a world of difference between edification and flattery.  In my personal experience, the Lord's voice contains a gentle rebuke because it speaks the truth and only the truth ― and let's be honest, the truth is often unflattering.

But what's unusual about it is the fact the Lord doesn't make you feel defensive; He is not critical but hopeful.  "Hey Tim, let me help you with this.  We can do it, together.  I love you."  Through Him we see our shortcomings (weakness) in a matter-of-fact way, while at the same time, His voice triggers the stirrings of faith that, through Him, we can do anything.  Even move mountains.

You can't mistake it; in fact, the resonance of His voice is the sign by which His disciples are known (John 13:35).  Christ's disciples don't rail against sin or sinners; instead they invite us to lift our eyes to Christ who offers healing in His wings.  His words are like music to our hearts: the "voice of mercy all the day long" (D&C 43:25).​

I'll share with you a simple test, which helps me discern whether someone is familiar with God's voice or not.  Listen to how they address LGBTQ issues; how do they approach our LGBTQ sisters and brothers.  Is their tone tender or accusatory?

(A good example of this is Walter Brueggemann's essay on homosexuality.)

Elder Merrill's Excellent Adventure​

A series of unfortunate events culminated one afternoon as I did the dishes after lunch.  I was alone (I have no idea where my companion had gone off to).

I don't think I've shared this before on Owl of the Desert; this may be the first time I have written about it (so I can't knock the fact that Joseph Smith took years to get around to recording his First Vision).

We had eaten tacos for lunch (Americans love tacos).  Leaning over the kitchen sink, who knows, maybe I was having an emotional breakdown; maybe it was just a pity party; but whatever it was, I felt overwhelmed and sad.

In hindsight, I see my heart breaking.  My hard heart breaking, that is.  After all, who wants to give God their healthy-hearts?  No, no: it wasn't until my heart became sorrowful that I felt the need to let the Lord take it; giving Him that old, crusty, rule-oriented thing was a relief.  Let Him throw it away.  I didn't care.

Trying to fight back tears, I stacked the dishes (no dishwasher).  My conscience was clear and yet my spirit grieved.

   [I] had bitterness of soul,
   and wept over [my] brethren,
   and said unto the heavens:
   I will refuse to be comforted.

(Moses 7:44)

I think I might have murmured a bit as I scrubbed the dishes, spouting off at the Lord (like Jonah maybe, or Job).

   I would speak
   to the Almighty,
   and I desire to reason
   with God.

   I have no peace,
   no quietness;
   I have no rest,
   but only turmoil.

(Job 13:3, KJV; Job 3:26, NIV)

Suffice it to say, my spirit was not in the right frame-of-mind.  And yet!  What happened next shows the Lord will meet us anywhere, whether on the road to Jericho or on the road to Damascus or on the road to Emmaus ― whatever road we're on, no matter where we're headed, He'll be there.

"S_V__EIG_TY"

​There are several Christian concepts which don't get much attention in the LDS tradition.  One of them is the doctrine of the Lord's sovereignty.

   Ah Lord God!
   behold, thou hast made
   the heaven and the earth
   by thy great power
   and stretched out arm,
   and there is nothing
   too hard for thee.

(Jeremiah 32:17)

Nothing?  Nothing too hard for God?  "Lord God" is translated from the Hebrew "Adonai Yahweh" (אֲדֹנָ֣י יְהוִה֒).  Other versions of the Bible render it "Sovereign Lord."

What does it mean for Christ to be "sovereign"?  Is there anything beyond His grasp, His authority, His rule?

We were molded as clay upon the Potter's wheel; His hands formed us in His image.  "Is nothing too hard for thee?"  Is there anything greater than His love?

Not long after Jesus's death, at a difficult time in early Church history, when the gospel began to go to the Gentiles, Simon Peter tried to get everyone to chill, putting their minds at ease:

   Known unto God
   are all His works
   from the beginning
   of the world.

(Acts 15:15)

What is the percentage of "all"?  Does that include you and me?  When angelic messengers told Abraham and Sarah they'd have a son, she laughed.  And the Lord asked, quite seriously,

   Is anything
   too hard
   for the Lord?

(Genesis 18:14)

Do we expect He'll have any trouble saving us, when He is the Lord God?  Does He not have enough tomato juice (by which I mean, blood) to bathe us in, to remove the skunk-stink from our flesh (by which I mean, sin)?

We're talking about the Creator of all things; whose Heart is poured out to fill the immensity of empty places, across all of space and spirit!

There's a reason Jesus can confidently counsel His little flock to not worry, to "fear not" whilst we are battered and bruised by earth and hell (D&C 6:34).

   The things
   which are impossible
   with men
   are possible with God.

(Luke 18:27)

The other doctrine that gets too-little airtime in the Church is the "providence" of God.

What does God's providence mean?  It means He will not let us slip through His fingers; He will fight the devil until we are safely in His arms, worlds without end.  I trust Him to keep His promises.

   I lay down my life
   for my sheep.
   I give unto them
   eternal life; 
   and they never perish,
   neither shall any man
   pluck them out of my hand.
   My Father gave them me,
   and is greater than all.

(John 10:15, 28-29)

Having faith in Christ comes naturally when we relax.  God's not going to leave us high-and-dry at the gas station, driving off with the rest of the family, leaving us behind with the scary truckers in plaid shirts and sunglasses; He will never forget us.  We are tattooed upon His palms.

When people say that God gives us faith ("faith is a gift"), that is not quite right.  God does not give us faith; He gives us Himself.  And when we are held against His bosom, our faith becomes unbreakable.  Not because we have an endowment of faith (an abstraction) but because we know Him whose promises and love "never faileth" (Moroni 7:46).   

   And they shall be mine,
   saith the Lord of hosts,
   in that day when 
   I make up my jewels; 
   and I will spare them,
   as a man spareth his own son.

(Malachi 3:17)

A Bodacious Journey​ Begins

​I discovered my spiritual foundation that afternoon as I stood over the kitchen sink arguing with God, weeping into the dishwater.

By "foundation" I mean just that: I found my rock.  I can testify of the Christ who spoke to me that day; and though the whirlwind whip me to shreds, and my body crumble to dust, nevertheless, I tasted and knew of His goodness (Mormon 1:15).

And what did I hear?  Well, the first thing God did was shut me up.

   Who is this
   that darkeneth counsel
   by words without knowledge?

(Job 38:2)

Now, that's not precisely what I heard; but it is exactly what I felt.  I was humbled and stripped bare to the core.  With no disrespect to myself, I felt my nothingness.

But those words are adequate for my purposes.  It's like reading the experience of Joseph Smith in the First Vision, the way he drew upon Bible verses to give voice to something that transcended mortal language:

"They draw near to me with the lips, but their hearts are far from me." 

Joseph lifted those words from Matthew 15:8-9, quoting Jesus who Himself was quoting Isaiah (Isaiah 29:13).  The circle of life.

Now, this next part I am finding difficult to put into words.  Comment-dit-on?  Read the following verses and see if you can guess at it:

Nephi:

   And I pray the Father
   in the name of Christ
   that many of us,
   if not all, may be saved
   in his kingdom
   at that great and last day.

(2 Nephi 33:12)

Mormon:

   And I would that all men
   might be saved.

(Helaman 12:25)

The voice of Jehovah is, quite literally, the voice of salvation.

He wants to save us all.

Heaven's Voice (or, what I like to call the name of the Boy Band formed by the four beasts in Revelation who serve before the throne of God):

   And I heard a loud voice
   saying in heaven:
   Now is come salvation.

(Revelation 12:10)

What I'm trying to say is: the Lord has made provision for all of us; He loves us protectively.

Down to my soul's tippy-toes, I knew in that moment that no matter how depressed I might become, and no matter how many times I fell down, or what anyone might tell me, nothing could rip me away from Him (Romans 8:39).

For I had heard His voice; the voice of Him who anointed us and "who hath sealed us" His (2 Cor. 1:22); and how marvelous it was.

Now, recall I was a missionary.  I thought it was my job to go out and hit the streets, saving the lost sheep of France, you know, by preaching the gospel and baptizing them.  I had carried this weight on my shoulders, thinking it a cross, but in fact it was a millstone.

On no uncertain terms, as with a firebrand seared into my spirit, the Lord made me to know that He (and He alone) was their Shepherd.  He would not fumble their salvation; after all, He was God!  Who was going to stop Him?  He had overcome death and hell.  Forever.

In other words: "Timothy, you don't have to save anybody.  You're not their Redeemer.  I AM.  All you can do, my son, is love them."​

All you can do is love them.

Plain and Precious
a poem

I say unto you,
That God is able
of these stones
to raise up children
unto Abraham.

      ― Luke 3:8
​
​Is the stone
     or seer
 
the instrument
manifesting
     inappreciable things
     to us
plainly?
 
          (If stone,
              why seer?
          If seer,
              why stone?)
 
What makes rock
     precious
           (does God esteem
           atoms in carbon
           hardened into diamond 
      more than those of feldspar
      olivine or quartz)?
 
Seers are peters
    polished
from plain folk
     (common as river rock)
 
seeking the Inappreciable
     in ordinary stoneship:
 
     Seeing in plainness
          preciousness
          not
          presupposed. 

Scapegoat

Barabbas.

We can learn a lot about faith by understanding the way Barabbas serves as a type and shadow of our salvation.

And what a name it is!

   Bar Abba = "son of the father"

If ever the universe conspired to send us a message, here it is: Barabbas (whose name literally means 'son of the father') ― standing next to Christ (who was the Son of the Father).

And yet Pilate freed Barabbas.  Why?

Did he deserve it?  No!  Barabbas was an awful sinner; a Roman prisoner the scriptures call "a robber" (John 18:40) who awaited death for sedition and murder (Luke 23:19).

In other words, he was me.

Like Barabbas, we were guilty and yet pardoned.  Was that fair?  Was it just?

A Tale of Two Sons and Two Goats

A father had two sons.  They both loved him and offered sacrifices to God.

One of the sons, Cain, offered the fruits of the field; the other son, Abel, offered the fruits of the flock.

Only Abel's sacrifice was accepted.  Why?  Is it because the Lord hates zucchini?

Well, the problem was blood ― or lack thereof.  For "all things are by the law purged with blood; and without shedding of blood is no remission (Hebrews 9:22).

Cain and Abel ― Barabbas and Christ; murderer and martyr ― remind me of the two goats paraded out on the Day of Atonement.

One goat was permitted to live and was set free in the wild (like Barabbas).  We call this the 'scapegoat' (also called Azazel, which, being interpreted, means something like "the rugged place of power").

The other goat, the unlucky one, was killed and sacrificed; its blood was sprinkled in the Holy of Holies upon the Ark of the Covenant by the High Priest (this was done on the Day of Atonement, the only time each year he got to enter the Holy of Holies).

So that paints a striking picture: the Ark of the Covenant being splattered with fresh, warm blood.  What did that represent (Moroni 10:33)?

Now the question you're probably asking is, Which goat got to go free?  How did the High Priest pick?

We're survivors.  We want to live!  In this dog-eat-dog world, we're all looking for ways to improve our prospects by being the better-goat, right?  The one who produces the most milk?  Maybe bribing the High Priest into setting us free by slipping a nice horn into his robes?  Or we show up at the selection ceremony with our hair combed and braided, hoping to look too-nice-to-slaughter.

Well, here's the surprising part: it was all decided by pure chance.  The high priest cast lots to see which goat lived or died.

So we see their fate was determined irrespective of their worthiness.

I think there's a lesson in this.  Just like there is in the way Barabbas was released due to no credit of his own.

Faith in Christ?

The lot fell upon Christ to carry our sins.  "And the Lord laid upon Him the iniquity of us all" (Isaiah 53:6).  In a weird paradox, Christ fulfilled the role of both goats: the scapegoat upon whom the High Priest placed the sins of the people, and also the goat that was sacrificed.

   And that he died for all,
   that they which live
   [all of us Azazels running free]   
   should not henceforth live
   unto themselves, but unto
   Him which died for them,
   and rose again.

(2 Cor. 5:15)

Now, maybe you've got a big heart and are thinking, "Tim, I'll be the goat that goes under the knife.  I'll do it.  Sacrifice me.  Because that's the kinda G.O.A.T. I am."

Well, kudos for the selfless gesture, but sorry, there's a problem with your offer.  You see, the Law required the Sin Offering to be a specimen that was unblemished.  None of us are, shall-we-say, new-in-the-box anymore.  Not mint condition.  We've all sinned and come short.

   Ye were not redeemed
   with silver and gold
   [see, not through paying tithes]
   or from your vain conversation
   received by tradition 
   from your fathers
   [neither from holding fast to the faith of our forefathers]; 

   But with the precious blood
   of Christ, as a lamb
   without blemish
   and without spot.

(1 Peter 1:18-19)

Look, I know many people who are amazing, incredible, gifted, (almost) superhuman.  But I don't have faith in them; none of them are "without blemish."

And this explains our predicament: none of us carry in our DNA the "precious" blood that can redeem another person.

Do You Need a Hug?

I suppose we could lay down our lives as human sacrifices.  And some do.

But shedding our "own blood will [not] atone for the sins of another" (Alma 34:11) ― not even for our own sins (which is why I really don't understand the whole 'Blood Atonement' doctrine, which is a drastic departure from the Christian faith).

Despite all the wonderful qualities we may possess, there is one quality we yet lack ― and it's quite an important one!

We can give birth but we cannot bestow life; we can take someone's life away but we cannot take away their sins.

Except for Barabbas-Christ, the Beloved Son of the Father, who alone among us could.

I suspect until we understand why He could (and we cannot) propitiate for another's sin, it'll be tough to exercise faith in Him.

   He shall bring salvation
   to all those who shall believe
   on his name;
   this being the intent
   of this last sacrifice. . . 
   which overpowereth justice
   and bringeth about means
   unto men that they
   may have faith
   unto repentance.

(Alma 34:15)

Please let that sink in: Christ's sacrifice "bringeth about means unto men that they may have faith."  What specifically was it about His blood that enabled / activated / triggered our faith?

Note that Christ's blood, spilled upon the Ark, turned the world upside-down and inside-out.  It (He) literally "overpowereth justice" in order to "encircle [us] in the arms of safety" (Alma 34:16).

This is important, for us to understand why He asks us to come unto Him.  It's not because He wants to be popular; He has no desire for groupies, as it were.  He would much rather focus our attention on the Father.  But it is because Christ knows that it is only within His embrace that we are safe (see, 2 Nephi 1:15).

I fear we may not grasp the enormity of what it means for Him to "overpowereth justice" on our behalf.

If you really want to get red-carded in Elders Quorum, just try teaching that Christ has "overpowered justice."  It'll drive them wild!

For if there's one thing the natural man craves, it's justice (not for himself, naturally, but for all the other sinners out there).

In case you weren't aware (and here's the kicker), Salvation-Through-Mercy is not fashionable at Church these days; instead, we're teaching Salvation-Through-Justice.

Which version of salvation did the Pharisees preach?  Did Christ teach?  Which version produces the fruit of faith?

​Answer: See Luke 18:9-14.