A Faith Beyond: The Gospel's Least-Understood Principle: Part 1

Why Faith?  Why Now?

Strangely, I have not written extensively about faith on this blog.  As is so often the case with fundamentals, we assume everyone knows them.  And, to be sure, faith is the bread-and-butter of Christianity.

But yesterday at Church I listened to several talks that made me feel like the faith-train has derailed and crashed; the speakers described "faith" in terms which, to me, screamed the opposite.

And so, taking inspiration from Clark Burt's excellent and eye-popping series on repentance, I've decided to tackle faith.

I've titled this Series, "A Faith Beyond: The Gospel's Least-Understood Principle" ― and it is more than just click-bait.  As you read this Series, you can decide whether there's sufficient evidence for my claim that the first principle of the gospel is, in fact, the most poorly understood.

I will attempt to support my claims using the scriptures and I might even sprinkle in a bit of prophecy and/or a dash of good old-fashioned revelation.

Top Ten: All About Faith

The questions I want to address head-on are:

    - What is faith? (Simple enough, right?  Wrong.)

    - Why are we saved by faith in Jesus Christ?  And where does that leave the other trappings of our religion, like covenants; where do they fit in?

    - What is the difference between saving faith and the faith had by the Devil and his followers?

    - Why is faith so fleeting and faint in the world today?  If an angel were taking the world's pulse in search of a heartbeat, would we be declared legally dead?  For faith without works is dead.

   - What does it mean to possess "exceeding" faith (as opposed to, I suppose, average faith)?

   - Why don't we see more miracles today, which are the fruit of faith?

   - Is there a hidden message in Alma's great discourse on faith in Alma 32?  We'll go National Treasure in search of its meaning.

   - How is faith in Christ related to our spiritual "intelligence"?

   - What does God promise to those who have faith in Him?  How, exactly, do we lay claim to "the promises"?

   - What is this "better world" we hear so much about in the scriptures?  You know, the one we should be earnestly seeking through faith?  Is it Zion?  Or is there a whole other destination the Lord has in mind for us?

Well, if you couldn't already tell, I am giddy as a schoolboy on the last day of class; can you hear the bell ringing the beginning of summer? Grab your lunchbox and let's go.

   This is going to be fun!

LESSON 1:  Faith Looks Nothing Like We Expect

I was always terrible at the Where's Waldo books.  Not that my vision is poor, but rather my patience is.

It's going to take a bit of patience for us to find faith's habitation.

One of our challenges is that faith is camouflaged; the more we become "pure in heart," the easier it will be to recognize.

As an example, how many people recognized Christ at His first coming?  Not those who were part of the "establishment."

​Why?  Because Christ's coming was nothing like the Jews expected.  Christ breezed right past them and none were the wiser, except a very few.

So it is today: faith is found in swaddling clothes (the true robes of the priesthood) ― held, in its purest form, by those who have become as little children in Christ.

Little children?  By contrast, the typical "faith" we see bandied about nowadays is that of the Natural Man putting-on-airs in all his finery.  Like King Herod.

The audacity of King Herod!  He told the wise men to return and tell him where the Christchild was so he could come and worship him.  Yeah, right.

The Natural Man (being an enemy to God) loves to appear like His friend, posing for his self-portrait in the robes of the priesthood, painted larger than life.  The scriptures call it "hypocrisy."

I want to suggest something right now, fresh off the blocks, as we begin in this Series:  What I am going to describe is likely going to sound unfamiliar.  Strange, even.

Because on our quest for saving faith, we need to stop thinking of faith as something that belongs to religion.

We may need to look beyond our chapels, cathedrals, shrines, and temples.  Those things, as a rule, are built by, and for, the natural man.

   For God dwelleth not
   in temples made with hands

So where does God dwell?  Where will we find a living, breathing faith?

Well, we're told that we (His children) are the temple of God.  "Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?" (1 Cor. 3:16).

   neither is God worshipped
   with [that which is made with]
   men's hands.

(Acts 17:24)

What about all the beautiful woodwork and stained-glass windows in our temples?  What about the Kirtland Temple's china-infused façade?  I thought those things were signs of our faith.  No?

Cross-reference this with Stephen's dying testimony, declaring to the Jews that the finery of Solomon's temple was worthless:

   Howbeit the most High
   dwelleth not in temples
   made with hands.

(Acts 7:48)

Whereas today we are taught ALL THE TIME to "go to the Temple."  We've come to equate faith with our temples and the covenants we make therein.  Christ, of course, is in there somewhere, we're sure.

A member spoke yesterday in Church about how they've been struggling financially, and so she and her husband have tripled their time in the temple.

And so we have been misled to look for faith in all the wrong places.

Who Are We Trying to Impress?

Now, please don't get me wrong.  I am happy to scrub the toilets and clean the church building on Saturdays (although I prefer to vacuum the chapel).  I love our Ward Chili Cook-offs in the Cultural Hall.  And I love being in the temple (as I've previously written about).

My point is, these places are for us ― not God!  Who are we trying to impress with our brass-inlaid marble steps leading up to the Endowment Room?  God, whose streets are paved with gold (D&C 137:4)?

What's ironic is that these impressive edifices elicit so much pride from members of the Church, who post pictures of the temples all the time on social media.  What they do not realize is that these structures do not reflect our faith, but rather our lack of it, as Nephi foresaw (2 Nephi 28:13).

But consider little children: do we think little children care about how many crystals are in the chandelier hanging in the Celestial Room?  No, that's just bragging-rights for the Natural Man.

Little children care nothing for the indicia of wealth and finery.  They don't care what they're wearing (I mean, my kindergartener would have worn the exact same unwashed T-shirt every single day to school if I had let him).

And isn't it funny how little children have no sense of fashion (have you seen them play dress-up?).  They don't care about nice clothes, or designer labels, or getting their Sunday Best dirty while playing outside in the mud.

Teenagers, though . . . now they're a different story.  Teenagers know their social status in Middle School hangs in the balance; it's all about appearances.

Ironically, we've created churches and religions for Middle School Faith, trying to impress the Mean Girls and to woo the star Quarterback. 

But little children care nothing about all that.  They're completely at the mercy of their parents to dress them; I mean, they can't even change their own diapers, let alone dress themselves.

And if those parents want to dress them in a little sailor's suit and cap, or in a flower dress with matching ribbons in their hair, so be it.

The question we should be asking, then, is what, exactly, does our Father in heaven want to dress us in?  What do the robes of faith resemble?  Does heaven have a dress-code?

Well, nothing fancy.  For Father wants to clothe us in the body (image) of Christ our Savior.

But that won't satisfy most people's definition of 'Sunday Best'.  After all, in Christ there "is no beauty that we should desire him."

And honestly, wearing Christ is going to kill our social capital in Middle School faster than a basketball player wearing a pair of pink ballet slippers.

So back we go to where it's safe (by which I mean, to our carnal security); back to the tried-and-true Brylcreem, sleeking back our hair like cool kids. 

"Ah, that's better.  There's the natural man the world loves so well."

But swaddling clothes?  The other kids would mock us if we showed up in First Period wearing that. 

"No, no; I don't want to be made fun of for wearing hand-me-downs."

Lesson 2: Faith is Not Found Where We Think
​
Where is faith to be found, then?  If religion has sold itself to Mammon, where is faith hiding (in the bathroom stall of the girl's bathroom?).

The curious thing about the natural man is his absolute obsession with appearances (above all else).  He knows how to "look the part."  And, frankly, the Letterman Jacket crowd has little use for faith when they've got Daddy's hotrod and good looks.

Which is why, when we read about clothing and fine-twined linen in the Book of Mormon, and dismiss it as outdated reference, we're wrong (because clothing symbolizes the way we wish to appear to others, and keeping up appearances is still very much in vogue).

Look, there is nothing hypocrites love so well as cutting a fine figure, spiritually speaking ― hence all the stiff, wrinkle-free white shirts Christ mocked as "whited sepulchers" (Matt. 23:27).

It's tough to find faith among the modern trappings of religion, lounging upon respectable woolen couches dyed a deep-hue blue (Amos 6:4).  We won't find faith clothed in comfortable, soft cotton-blends (by which I mean, the commandments of men).

But don't worry, we ARE told in the scriptures what faith looks like.  Once we know what to look for, she's not hard to spot.

In Hebrews 11 we read how the prophets of old possessed great faith, and

​   were stoned,
   they were sawn asunder,
   were tempted,
   were slain with the sword
 
"Umm, Tim, you're not doing a very good job of selling faith, here, buddy."

   they wandered about
   in sheepskins
   and goatskins;
   being destitute, afflicted,
   tormented

"Umm, Tim, what's up with the riff-raff?  That's not what I signed up for.  I thought having faith meant our lives would get better!  Didn't President Nelson promise the poor Africans that if they paid tithing to the Church they'd lift themselves out of generational poverty?"

"This doesn't sound like the prosperity gospel, such as when President Nelson said:

"'Paying tithing is all about faith, not money.  As I became a full-tithe payer, the windows of heaven began to open for me. I attribute several subsequent professional opportunities to our faithful payment of tithes'?"  (Russell M. Nelson, "Think Celestial!" October 2023 General Conference.)
 
   (Of whom the world
   was not worthy):
   they wandered 
   in the deserts,
   and in mountains,
   and in dens and caves
   of the earth.

Don't miss it: why couldn't these men and women find a home for their faith?  Well, their faith was "wrong," as deemed by those in authority, like two puzzle pieces that don't fit.

​Ask yourself: why weren't these men and women welcomed in the churches, synagogues, and temples of their day?

Christ tells us, when he said, foxes have holes (not talking about animals; who did he refer to as "that fox"?) and birds have nests (not talking about animals but the leaders of his day, perched atop the religious hierarchy), but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.

Nobody wanted to fellowship with that guy, whose faith sounded heretical; and who had a reputation for speaking blasphemy (as heard in Ward Council), and who believed the darndest things.

   These all obtained
   a good report
   through faith.

(Hebrews 11:37-39)

​"Hmm, Tim, I'm not so sure I want to have faith, now ― at least not this brand.  It sounds very unpopular.  And I have a reputation to uphold." ― says Mammon.

Fashionable Faith
a poem

​Haven’t you any finery
   for Church?
You’ll besmirch
   God in that raggedy dress.
Respectability
   is the warp and woof
of the Lord's elect.
   Sorry dear, that won’t do.
Where’s the largesse?
   You must genuflect
like a golden calf
   for your grand debut.
I swear we must do something
   with your hair.  There!
The game’s to make everything
   ghastly overpriced
(to keep out the riffraff)―
 
      Try the bargain bin
         if you want to wear
      Jesus Christ.

[Above: what I see when a member posts a picture of the temple on social media to gush about how amazing temples are]

What Have We Learned?

What have we learned about faith today?

I think we're seeing that we should beware of those who come preaching the gospel in silks, teaching the doctrine of soft fabrics (by which I mean, the commandments of men, which are the meat-and-potatoes (and gravy) of the Natural Man).

Didn't John the Baptist wear a garment of coarse camel hair?  His shoulders were not draped in the smooth hypocrisy of the high priests who served in the temple (no offense, Zechariah).

Thus Nephi declared: 

   Wo be unto him
   that is at ease in Zion!

(2 Nephi 28:24)

Nephi warned us; if only we'd listen!  Nephi told us to flee from those that cry:

   All is well
   in Zion;
   yea, Zion
   prospereth,
   all is well!

(2 Nephi 28:21)

After all, the easiest way for the devil to cheat our souls is to flatter our faith into believing we please God with all this well-dressed business, sending our faith to Fifth Avenue for its wardrobe.

For Adam and Eve were created in God's image, and are depicted as being naked (representing how pure, or stripped of worldliness, our faith should be).

But along comes the serpent and whispers in our ears, tickling the hearing of the Natural Man:

"See?  Your faith is naked!  Sew fig leaves together with thread made from the bones of men, and make aprons (religions) and hide (from God) behind your forms of godliness!"

Shall we heed the serpent, or shall we take counsel from Christ, as little children, unashamed of our nakedness (Gen. 2:25)?