Happiness, Salvation, Redemption, Mercy – Final

(This is part IV. Part I is here; Part II is here; Part III is here.)

One of the hallmarks of King Benjamin’s address to the Nephites is the concept of retaining a remission of one’s sins. I really began to clue into that idea during my freshman Book of Mormon class at BYU (taught, as many of the Book of Mormon classes were, by a non-Religion Department faculty member). And I have continued to mull it over ever since.

In the context of Part III of this series, once we do our inventory, see God’s help, and make amends, then what? How do I go on from there?

First, I need some daily (or regular) way of staying on track. I need somehow to rededicate myself to the Lord each day and to seek His will for my life. And I need to check myself each day to see how I’m doing, and if I get off course, I need to do something about it – fast. I remember hearing Elder Eyring speak about praying in the morning to know who he could help and reporting back in his prayers at the end of the day on how he’d done. This daily checking-in with the Lord helps us to remain on the path back home.

But simply renewing my covenants either in daily prayer or with the sacrament each Sunday is not enough according to King Benjamin.

I also need to reach out to others. King Benjamin speaks at length about caring for the poor, giving to the beggar, meeting the needs of those around us. Of course in the gospel there are lots of cues to reach outside ourselves. Certainly caring for the poor and needy is among those (important enough now to be a fourth part of the church’s mission according to the new handbooks). But we have other ways in which we give service, from home teaching to temple service to missionary service. Not only can we strengthen the financially poor but also the spiritually poor. We can comfort those who stand in need of comfort, lift of the hands that hang down.

To me, it’s important that this service follows the specific self-inventory that I described in Step III. When my father gave his talk in church my first week home from my mission about conducting a personal inventory, it was after he had lived for nearly two years in Africa, away from the organized church where he and my mother held a small sacrament meeting each week in their living room. Sometimes it was just the two of them. About twice a month one other expat in Lagos joined them. And occasionally the missionary couples that had come to Nigeria and Ghana were in town and joined them, too (though usually they were off forming new units of the church). He had gone through that self-inventory process in his relative isolation in West Africa, and he came home with a different view of church service and of himself.

In recovery circles, the last of the twelve steps is about service to the recovery community and sharing the hope of recovery with others who may need it. In the church, we share missionary moments in priesthood meeting, pray for missionary experiences, and seek for ways to share the joy we have found in the gospel. And, as King Benjamin taught, we give of our surplus to the poor – perhaps through church donations and perhaps in other ways, too.

This act of reaching out to others, once we are spiritually healthy enough to do it, is how we can lose ourselves so that we may live.

Happiness, Salvation, Redemption, Mercy – Part III

(Part I here. Part II here. Note: Today's entry is longer than I had expected. I thought about breaking it up into two or three parts, but decided to charge ahead instead.)

Somewhere early in my time in the church (with my parents and siblings, I was a convert at about age 9) I learned the “Rs” of repentance. Today I can no longer remember them all, though Remose and Restitution were among them.

I had it in my head early on that repentance was to be a sin-by-sin experience. Maybe this was influenced by the teaching I received in Primary in those early days, maybe by my Catholic friends who went to confession each week and rattled off the week’s sins to their priest.

I was never quite sure that I was repenting right in those days. Sometimes I’d try to list my daily mistakes in my prayers, and finally as a teenager, laziness or efficiency got the better of me and I simply prayed to be forgiven of whatever mistakes I’d made that day. Once in a great while there was what I perceived to be a bigger sin for which I sought forgiveness and in those instances I spent more time on those items in prayer.

I served my mission in Germany just about the time a newer translation of the Book of Mormon was coming out (that translation has since been replaced by yet another one, I think). The translator spoke to us missionaries about how he translated the word repent, using a verb which mean “to turn” rather than the Catholic expression which had been in the original translation that was closer to “do penance.” Language issues aside, the notion that repentance was a turning stuck with me, and it’s influenced my thinking about repentance ever since.

I was teaching priesthood a number of years ago and the subject of the lesson was repentance. While I was teaching an example occurred to me: If I were one of those people holding on to the iron rod, moving toward the tree with the wonderful fruit, and somehow I lost my hold on the rod when I entered the mists of darkness, what would I do?

The first thing I’d do (I hope!) is stop moving. By stopping I would ceasing moving farther from the rod. Then I would try to find my way back to the rod. That might involve calling out for help. It might involve turning around and going back the way I came (assuming I could figure that out in the fog). But it would start with my stopping and standing still.

Repentance, as the second great principle of the gospel, is a key to having access to the atonement. It is for me not so much a one-for-one accounting for each sin of my life (though it may involve that) as a turning away from my natural man and turning toward the Savior as Moses (and three different Book of Mormon prophets) taught.

In recovery circles, there is a prescribed process that really works. Once one has (as we discussed in the last installment) admitted there are certain things he cannot do (that is, humbled himself), and that God can do those things and more, and that he’s willing to submit to the will of God, then he’s ready to begin the process of repenting.


PERSONAL INVENTORY

It begins with a personal inventory of positive and negative qualities – of strengths and weaknesses, if you will. It’s more than a list. It’s really a personal examination of who we are. You don’t have to be a 12-step program to benefit from this kind of individual analysis. It can help anyone who wants to cleanse the inner vessel.

I remember my first Sunday home from my mission was our ward’s ward conference, and my father spoke in that meeting about the value of an occasional personal inventory in which we evaluate our lives compared to the expectations and standards our Father in Heaven has set. It rang true to me then as a great idea, and it still does.

There are as many ways to complete an inventory as there are people who have done it, but one way is think about the times in our lives when we felt acute emotion – great happiness or sadness, love or resentment, gratitude or stinginess. Write down those incidents in a list. Write enough of a description to know what they are. Then write the emotions felt while the thing was happening. Try to get to primary emotions, not just anger or happiness, and be as descriptive about the emotions as possible. (Think about those “Today I Feel” refrigerator magnets that were so popular a few years ago.)

Then write your part in the emotions. This is the hardest part. Did you feel resentment because you failed to communicate your need? Did you feel left out because you were too shy to join in? The point of this part is to identify not where we are victims (and sometimes we may be legitimate victims, though maybe not as often as we might think on the surface), but where we are actors contributing to our own state of well-being. If we do it right, this part can be remarkably liberating as we realize that, although there is a lot over which we do not have control, there are some things over which we do, namely how we act. Knowing which is which is really valuable.

Finally in our inventory, we can include what spiritual guidance we may have felt as we’ve considered each of these incidents in our lives. Doing so can invite the spirit as we prayerfully consider the scriptures and other material that might guide us.

(Doing the inventory might take months, but it also might take a day; each person is different. One person may be ready to tackle his whole life at once; another might choose to deal with one section of his life at a time. The first time I did such an inventory, I ended up writing my personal history of my first 50 years; it was an awesome experience.)

Once we complete this exercise, patterns are likely to emerge. We’re likely to see that in certain settings our reactions are similar. We’re likely to get a pretty clear view of our own strengths and shortcomings, and that’s just what we want to do.

Once we have that list, we ought to share it, certainly with God, but also with a trusted friend. There’s real power in sharing our inventory with another living and breathing person. Doing so shines light on our list of strengths and shortcomings; it really names those things and gives them weight for us.


ASK GOD FOR HELP

Having done an inventory and shared our list with another person, we’re ready to submit to God again by preparing ourselves and then asking God to remove our shortcomings. This element is really important, because I did not say we take our list of shortcomings and work on them by ourselves. That’s because it doesn’t work to try to do it by ourselves. The power to change is in the atonement, and the only way to have real, lasting, powerful change is to have the Savior do it. Look and live. We put ourselves in the position to ask for that help by honoring our covenants and doing our best to keep commandments. And then we ask God to remove our shortcomings.

Some he might remove quickly. Others not so much. But even if he doesn’t remove them completely, the process of asking puts us in the position as submitting to His will (which is what King Benjamin says we need to do to overcome the natural man). As we do our best (which does not mean “as we are perfect”) in keeping covenants and commandments, God blesses us with insight, understanding, compassion, charity, faith and all kinds of things.

God may not remove the shortcoming that we hate the most. He probably won’t remove all our weakness, because our weakness draws us back to Him. Remember the apostle Paul never had that thorn in his flesh removed, despite his intense desire and his submitting to the will of God repeatedly in his life.


MAKE AMENDS

Once we have done a real inventory and taken our list of shortcomings to God and asked him to remove them, then we are ready to seek to restore that which may have been lost because of our sin. In recovery parlance, we make amends. In my Primary Rs, we’re taking about restitution. Return the value of the chicken we stole. Rebuild the relationship we’ve harmed. Do whatever we can to make up for our shortcomings.

It’s a scary thing, trying to make amends. We may still feel that others owe US the amends because of what they have done to us. But if we’re repenting, we can’t make our repentance conditional upon someone else’s. So in the process of seeking forgiveness from others, we may have to forgive the very people from whom we are seeking forgiveness. Again, this is the time for the atonement to shine in our hearts.

Christ suffered every pain we suffer. There is no pain, physical, emotional, spiritual or of any other nature that he does not understand by his own experience. So he can comfort us as we try to make amends for mistakes we’ve made.

Amends or restitution or restoration is about much more than an apology, but it probably includes an apology. And some wrongs we simply cannot right on our own. We cannot return someone’s faith or someone’s virginity, for instance. But we can lead righteous and virtuous lives and offer as much comfort and support as the person to whom we seek to make amends will allow.

Sometimes that person does not want anything to do with us. That’s ok. Our amends are not about forcing ourselves on someone else. It’s our best effort to make up for what we did wrong. We offer the gift; if it’s not accepted, then we can move on. In some cases, the injured party may need to see a long pattern of new behavior before he or she will accept the amends we offer, and that’s ok.

So, in this installment, we talked about writing an inventory, sharing it, preparing to and then asking God to remove our shortcomings, and about forgiveness and making amends. These actions are, for me, the very key to unlocking the power of the atonement in our lives. I only know that because I have felt the power and blessings of the atonement in my life as I have done these things.

In the final installment, we’ll consider what King Benjamin called retaining a remission of our sins.

Happiness, Salvation, Redemption, Mercy – Part II

See Part I here.

In my last post, I introduced the idea of seeking the blessings of the atonement in our lives. This is, in my view, the essence of the gospel. King Benjamin talks about retaining a remission of our sins, which happens after we first obtain a remission of our sins, which is only possible through the infinite atonement, offered by our perfect Elder Brother, Jesus Christ. It is a gift which we must claim in order to enjoy its full benefits. (Some benefits, such as resurrection, will accrue to us regardless of our efforts, but the full blessings of the atonement require us to seek them.)

For me, the first leg of the journey is understanding something about God and something about me. I must understand that, as Moses said after his great vision recorded in the Pearl of Great Price, “Now, for this cause I know that man is nothing, which thing I never had supposed” (1:10). King Benjamin said something similar in his great address when he reminds us that we are all beggars before God.

In the language of 12-step recovery, we learn that there are certain things we simply do not control, no matter how hard we try. Among those things are other people, and sometimes even our own weakness as human beings. This is a crucial element of allowing the atonement to work on us, realizing that we are not about changing ourselves, but we are working to change through the atonement. (More on that in the next part of the series.)

At the same time, the things we cannot control are things God could control if He chooses to, because he is powerful enough to do it. (He has told us there are some things He also will not control because he has granted man his agency.)

Moses understood his relationship to God: He was created in the image of God. He was a child a God. And he was allowed by God to see the things he saw. He did not have power in and of himself to do those things, but God did have the power, and God allowed him to do it. When Satan came calling, Moses recognized instantly – despite his recognition that he was nothing compared to God – that he had power over Satan. He recognized that Satan was not a source of light as God was. And he recognized that Satan was not someone he had to listen to. And despite his fear, despite the temptation to do otherwise, he sent Satan packing. Awesome story. Awesome lesson.

In the rooms of recovery, they say, “I can’t. God can. I think I’ll let Him.” It means, I know there are things I cannot control in my life, and as long as I try to control them I cannot find happiness. But God can help me live with what I can’t control, and I can give myself over to Him and find peace, so I think I’ll let God do His job and I’ll do mine.

Of course King Benjamin taught the same lesson a different way. He said the natural man is an enemy to God, and we cannot overcome the natural man unless we submit to the will of God, just as a child willingly submits to his father. If I’m really, really ready to turn my life over to God, then I’m approaching where Moses and King Benjamin say I need to be. Then I’m exhibiting the faith in Jesus Christ that I mentioned in the last installment. Then I’m almost ready to be thinking about repentance. Then I’m beginning to look to Christ so that I can live.

In the next installment, I’ll look at specific things we can do, having really submitted ourselves to the Father, ways we can act in faith that will invite the blessings of the atonement into our lives.

See Part III here.

Happiness, Salvation, Redemption, Mercy

You’ve heard of The Plan. I remember a not-too-distant discussion of the Plan of Salvation that bemoaned the fact that we get mired down with roadmaps from pre-mortal existence to earth to spirit world to final judgment to an assignment to a kingdom, and we miss the point.

The Plan of Salvation, The Plan of Happiness, The Plan of Redemption, The Plan of Mercy is all about the atonement.

That is the Good News, the Gospel, that Christ has come to redeem us from our sins.

Alma explains to Corianton (both of whom learned first-hand about redemption):

And now, the plan of mercy could not be brought about except an atonement should be made; therefore God himself atoneth for the sins of the world, to bring about the plan of mercy, to appease the demands of justice, that God might be a perfect, just God, and a merciful God also (42:15).

Alma had explained that without the atonement of Christ, we could never repent; we could not escape the effects of our sin, and we could never return home to Father in Heaven. But Christ did suffer for us in Gethsemane and on the cross. Christ was resurrected. And in so doing, He opened the way for us to enjoy the blessings of His mercy by repenting of our sins, turning from our weakness and turning to Him. (That's Liz Lemon Swindle's depiction of Christ in Gethsemane, by the way.)

Over the next few posts, I intend to talk about the atonement and its effect on my life and on the life of others. I suggest that the atonement is what allows us to change, to improve ourselves. The atonement is the key to the Lord’s mercy, without which we would be doomed.

I do not intend to enter into a debate about faith vs. works. I do not intend to split hairs about grace. Let me simply state that the grace of God allows us the opportunity to repent. Were it not for the grace of God, we would have no such alternative, and we would be consigned to live forever in our sin.

And make no mistake: we all live in sin. All of us. The Savior was the only perfect example. And that means that no matter how moral, no matter how well meaning, no matter how active in the church, no matter what leadership calling one may hold, we are all sinners. Period. King Benjamin was pretty clear on the topic, and if he was a beggar before God, then I certainly am.

So the question is, how do we allow the atonement to work on us? Is there something we can do to take advantage of this remarkable gift, available to all of God’s children?

The first principles and ordinances of the gospel give us a clue: Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ will lead us to a desire to draw nearer to Him. That desire may inspire us to want to change, to repent, to turn to Him, to look to Him and live. As we do so, we will want to covenant to be His, a covenant we make at baptism and renew with the sacrament. And as we remember Him always and seek to keep his commandments, He will send the Comforter, the right to which we also receive by priesthood ordinance.

Having said that, I hope in the next few posts to think about how we can walk that path. My thoughts will come in three chunks: First, what can I do compared with what God can do. Second, What are those steps of repentance, and how do I really do it? And finally, having done it, how can I stay on the path?

I hope you’ll come back for the next three posts. I welcome your comments along the way, as always.

Part II here.

The lie that leads to disobedience

Elder Packer is famous for teaching that we change behavior more by teaching doctrine than by teaching behavior (see here, here, and here).

For instance, he said,

The study of the doctrines of the gospel will improve behavior quicker than a study of behavior will improve behavior. Preoccupation with unworthy behavior can lead to unworthy behavior. That is why we stress so forcefully the study of the doctrines of the gospel (from the second link above).

This thinking is closely aligned with what President Benson taught:

The Lord works from the inside out. 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 (“Born of God,” Ensign, November 1985).

I’ve often puzzled over that idea, but I had some thoughts on it this past weekend that allowed it to make sense. Here’s the way I worked my way through it:

1. Bad behavior begins with a lie, or (more charitably), a misunderstanding.

2. The misunderstanding leads to a distorted view – or a hidden truth -- of God

3. The hidden truth results in unnecessary fear and negative thoughts

4. That fear leads to improper behavior and stress resulting from the cognitive dissonance between doing what is wrong and knowing (through the light of Christ) what is right

5. That dissonance is covered by addictive behaviors or other self-destructive behavior

Two examples, the first of which is scriptural and the second of which is personal.

First, consider the Lamanites in the Book of Mormon. At many times in their history they engaged in bad behavior. While it would be logical to focus on the behavior and try to change it, that is not the root of the problem. The root is the basic lie that underlies the behavior. The tradition of their fathers was that Lehi led them away from their inheritance and Nephi subjected Laman & Lemuel to Nephi’s rule, effectively stealing the birthright.

That basic lie (taught in the tradition of their fathers) led to a fundamental misunderstanding of God: he was harsh and punishing rather than loving and supportive. Eventually a false god replaced the true God in their lives.

The fundamental lack of understanding of God led them away from covenants and into behavior contrary to the gospel, robbing them of blessings they might otherwise enjoy. The lack of joy enhanced the need in the Lamanites to control the Nephites and their lands, to right the wrongs supposedly done to them, and perpetuated a spiral of sin and moving away from the true God.

In those cases where Lamanites rose above their nature and above the traditions of their fathers it is when the fundamental lie was overcome and the truth about God was taught to them (think Ammon and King Lamoni).

Now, a personal example: The lie that I struggle with often is that I know better than God what is good for me. Sometimes I do not trust the power of the atonement in my own life, and I feel like efforts to improve (even though I may see the need to improve) will not bear fruit.

This lie that I tell myself and believe diminishes my faith because it obscures the true power of the atonement in my life; it effectively limits (in my mind) the power of God to help me and His love for me.

As a result, when I'm trusting this lie, obedience is more difficult for me. On the one hand, I fear the punishment that will come with lack of obedience, or I fear that others in my circle won’t care about me because I’m not as good as I should be. On the other hand, because I know what is best for me, I can pick and choose how to obey.

Unfortunately, disobedience to what the spirit has taught me (and what I recognize as true when not under the cloud of this lie) leads to the dissonance in me that comes when I know right and do wrong. And my means of coping with that dissonance is more wrong: it leads in me to bursts of anger, efforts to control others’ outcomes, and disappointments at false expectations that I have built in myself.

While it’s easy enough for me to spot my own bad behavior and to tell myself to stop it, stopping the behavior is not the issue. The issue is getting to the lie and rooting it out. And the way to do that is by learning pure truth: doctrine.

A work in progress

I am a work in progress. Ask my wife, my children or anyone who knows me. I am not where I want to be, nor am I yet where I ought to be.

A friend of mine says it this way: “God’s not done with me, yet.”

I spent a fair amount of the long weekend working in my flower beds. This is an activity I really enjoy. It reminds me of weeding the flower bed in front of my childhood home with my mother. (I’m guessing I didn’t necessarily enjoy that so much, though I think I enjoyed it because we did it together.)

I planted impatiens, begonias, marigolds and a few daisies. I adjusted sprinkler heads and pulled some weeds. No matter how much I do, there’s always more to be done. There are the same beds I weeded just a few weeks ago before spreading nine yards of bark on them. And I’ll be weeding them again before I know it.

The time between planting little flowers from the flats until they grow up to something you can see even if you aren’t looking for it from the street is bittersweet for me. Part of me wants instant flowers (but for that I have to buy pots, not flats, and I buy too many flowers to afford that). And part of me enjoys watching the flowers take root and grow into themselves.

It’s that second part that reminds me that I am also still growing into what I can be, what I ought to be.

I don’t mean that in a “oh, wo is me because I’m not like so-and-so” sort of way. I mean instead that I understand I’m supposed – one day – to be perfect, and I’m not there yet. I also understand I’m on the path, and that I am moving forward one step at a time. And I have learned (after over 50 years) to recognize that I’m farther down the path now than I used to be.

I used to joke when I was a bishop that I knew I was not perfect. Anyone who thought I was should just ask my kids. They have, I told people, a list. I don’t know if they really had a list, but I sure did. And for a long time, I’d beat myself with that list without making much progress.

Regular readers will know that I have found help moving down the path by working the 12 steps of recovery. There are lots of versions of the steps which began in Alcoholics Anonymous, including the church’s own Addiction Recovery Program. These twelve steps are, as my wife once observed, a structured way to live the gospel and make the atonement real in our lives. The twelve steps are a way to recovery and peace, by they are not the only way.

I found when I started believing that the blessings of the atonement were really available for me, that my human weakness (which is different from my weaknesses) is part of how I was created (how we all were created, according to King Benjamin), and that, as President Packer often teaches, it’s never too late to repent, I could recognize that I was on the path and find peace, even though I wasn’t done.

So as I wait for my annuals to grow and mature, I will look for similar development in myself and in those around me. And, despite my desire to be further along than I am, I will feel peace.

My experience as the father of non-believers (Part Two, in which the atonement works)

In my last post on this subject, I described my emotional response to the choice of some of my children to leave the church. And I postulated that my emotional response might have led (at least some of) my kids who left to question my love for them.

Of course I did love them, and it was out of my love for them that I felt the distress I did. And it was my misguided understanding of how to show that love that I likely confused them.

When I was a boy, I had a covered wagon lamp kit, which I decided to assemble myself one evening. I put the wagon together, and then I put the lamp fixture and cord on the wagon. At some point, I realized I had not strung the cord through the hole in the bottom of the covered wagon. I decided the easiest way to remedy this situation was to cut the cord, string it through the hole, and then re-tape the wire. So I took my wire cutters and cut the cord.

Oh, did I mention it was plugged in? As I cut the cord, the lights went out. We lived in an old house with fuses (not circuit breakers) and we probably only had one or two fuses at that. So a lot of the house went dark. I sat in the darkness, not quite sure what had happened. My father came downstairs to check the fuse box and asked me what had happened. When I told him, he (in an astonishingly calm way, now that I think about it) taught me about electricity and told me I had shorted out the system. He also pointed out that I was lucky I didn’t get shocked. (The wire cutters, thankfully, had insulated handles.)

He then explained something that has always stuck with me. He said that when people grab a live wire, they can’t let go because the electricity causes their muscles to contract, tightening their grip on the wire. That’s why, he explained, that electricians who don’t know if a wire is live, might touch it first with the back of their hand, so if their hand closes, it won’t be on the wire.

When my children began to leave the church, I tightened my grip, as if I were clutching a live wire. And I could not let go.

Until, that is, the Savior finally helped me.

A year or two after my oldest son left home to go to college (and about three years since he’d last been to church), I was serving as bishop. I had interviewed a couple who was working on the repentance process, and it was our final meeting as they and I had all received a witness that they had done what the Lord wanted them to do, and they could return to full fellowship.

The brother observed that that day happened to be Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. On my way home from church that night, I contemplated the blessings of the atonement. I reflected on a letter I’d written my son year or two earlier in which I’d written about how much he needed the atonement in his life. On that night, the Lord taught me in no uncertain terms that it was I who needed the atonement in my life.

I had never felt more like Nephi in 2 Nephi 4 before that night. I had laid out to me very clearly where I had acted out of pride and anger as a father, and where I needed to repent.

Thus began a long process in which I discovered the power of the atonement to heal me. Over time, I learned to accept my children’s choices for what they were – their exercise of God-given agency over which I had no control. Over time I came to have faith that if and when God needed them to return, He would oversee that change in them, not me. I developed greater faith in the power of the sealing ordinance, and greater understanding of the Lord’s mercy as it related to my weakness.

The change in me was not overnight. In fact, it has been about a decade since that realization, and God’s not done with me yet.

During the process, a good friend spoke in our sacrament meeting. She reminded us that there will be no wards and stakes in heaven, only families. In that moment, it occurred to me that I needed to do what it took so that my children (all of my children) could be comfortable in my family, even if they were not comfortable next to me on a bench in sacrament meeting.

I will add that my standards have not changed. I still live by them, and the minor children who live in my home still live by them. But I recognize that my children – those at home and away – choose how they will live; I cannot dictate those choices for them.

As I mentioned in a comment on the previous post, I had a stake president who counseled me during those turbulent years in our monthly stewardship interviews. He reminded me regularly that eternity is a long time. I’m grateful for that, because I may need a long time to get it right

Free Gift! Salvation

We were reading 2 Nephi 2 in our family scripture reading tonight. This is the famous “opposition in all things” and “men are free to choose” chapter. But my favorite verses come earlier in the chapter. Lehi speaks to Jacob, who as a young man has already had his own vision of the Savior, and says,

And thou hast beheld in thy youth his 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 (v. 4).

He states that the law does not justify anyone (in fact, the law cuts people off from God). But:

Wherefore, redemption cometh in and through the Holy Messiah; for he is full of grace and truth.

Behold, he offereth himself a sacrifice for sin, to answer the ends of the law, unto all those who have a broken heart and a contrite spirit; and unto none else can the ends of the law be answered (v. 6-7).

The ends of the law are only met through the redemption of Jesus Christ, the Savior. And to drive the point home:

Wherefore, how great the importance to make these things known unto the inhabitants of the earth, that they may know 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, who layeth down his life according to the flesh, and taketh it again by the power of the Spirit, that he may bring to pass the resurrection of the dead, being the first that should rise (v. 8).

From here, Lehi then expounds (now famously) on opposition – that the punishment brought by the law is required for the joy that may also come, and that those opposing forces are required in order for each to exist. Men are, after all, that they might have joy.

And the path to joy? Through Jesus Christ, of course:

Wherefore, men are free according to the flesh; and all things are given them which are expedient unto man. And 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; for he seeketh that all men might be miserable like unto himself.

And now, my sons, I would that ye should look to the great Mediator, and hearken unto his great commandments; and be faithful unto his words, and choose eternal life, according to the will of his Holy Spirit (v. 27-28).

Here’s where the concept of free begins to be developed in an interesting way. Salvation is free – that is, it is available to all. But men are also free, precisely because the Savior has made them so through his redeeming sacrifice. And, according to Lehi, men are wise to choose to follow the Savior.

Salvation: a free gift. As I ponder the Savior’s birth this week, I’ll surely also ponder this great gift.

A heap of guilt with a side of shame?

One of the lessons participants in certain 12-step support groups learn is about the difference between guilt and shame. This is particularly helpful for co-dependents who may seek help through Al-Anon or Families Anonymous, or the church’s Family Support Group (a companion program to the Addiction Recovery Program, still in pilot stages in selected locations). As co-dependents let go of things that don't belong to them, they hopefully also learn to release guilt they have falsely carried related to their loved one's lives. Overcoming shame (for the co-dependent and for the addicted loved one) may be more difficult.

Alma teaches Corianton about the proper place for guilt:

And now, my son, I desire that ye should let these things trouble you no more, and only let your sins trouble you, with that trouble which shall bring you down unto repentance.

O my son, I desire that ye should deny the justice of God no more. Do not endeavor to excuse yourself in the least point because of your sins, by denying the justice of God; but do you let the justice of God, and his mercy, and his long-suffering have full sway in your heart; and let it bring you down to the dust in humility (Alma 42:29-30, emphasis mine).

Guilt can be a positive force in our lives, if, as Alma teaches, we allow it to bring us to repentance.

Consider Enos’ experience:

And my soul hungered; and I kneeled down before my Maker, and I cried unto him in mighty prayer and supplication for mine own soul; and all the day long did I cry unto him; yea, and when the night came I did still raise my voice high that it reached the heavens.

And there came a voice unto me, saying: Enos, thy sins are forgiven thee, and thou shalt be blessed.

And I, Enos, knew that God could not lie; wherefore, my guilt was swept away (Enos 1:4-6, emphasis mine).

His guilt was swept away! Awesome. And just right. That is precisely the point of the atonement (one point, anyway). Through the blessing of the atonement we have the opportunity to turn from our sins and change and be better than we were. Our guilt can be swept away.

Shame, on the other hand, is a different kettle of fish. If guilt is that feeling that motivates us to change – that Godly sorrow that moves us to repent and to call on the Savior’s love and mercy to rescue us, shame is that deceitful web of the adversary that would have us believe that there is no hope for someone like us, that since we’ve sinned, no one could love us, especially God. (Of course the fact is that God has already loved us; His Son has already paid the price of our sin long before we committed it!)

Shame may keep us from seeking repentance because we believe we are unredeemable, or the pain or embarrassment (for us or for those we love) of repenting will be too great.

It is easy to leap from shame to pride – to suggest that somehow shame is our fault. I would recommend against that. Pride is pride and shame is shame; they are not the same. There are some whose pride may prevent their repentance, but that is not shame. Shame is often externally imposed, perhaps even unwittingly (in my generation, many were reared in shaming homes: “You should know better than that. How could you do such a thing? We don’t do that in our family!”).

Well-meaning church teachers might also instill shame when they teach (even unthinkingly) that certain sins are so serious they are virtually unredeemable, even though that is clearly not true. President Packer taught in the most recent conference:

You may in time of trouble think that you are not worth saving because you have made mistakes, big or little, and you think you are now lost. That is never true! Only repentance can heal what hurts. But repentance can heal what hurts, no matter what it is ("Counsel to Youth," October 2011 General Conference, emphasis mine).

Guilt focuses on what we have or have not done. Shame focuses often on who we are.

When we care for one another by bearing one another’s burdens, comforting those who stand in need of comfort and mourning with those that mourn, ideally we are easing a burden, not adding to it with shame. (A nice discussion of this thought, with reference to Job and his "friends" here.)

The good news – that is, The Good News – is that the atonement can help us in both cases. Not only did the Savior bear the pain of all our sins, but he bore all our pain so that, as Alma taught, “he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities” (Alma 7:12).

It is helpful for me to remember the story of the father with incomplete faith as recorded in Mark. The father approached Jesus, pleading with him to heal his son who was beset with a deaf and dumb spirit. The Savior teaches him, “If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth” (9:23). The father instantly confesses his belief, but then adds (perhaps sensing that the Lord already knows that his faith is weak), “help thou mine unbelief” (v. 24). The Savior does not chide him, nor does he refuse to help. Instead, he casts out the spirit and restores the boy to health.

It is helpful to remember that the Savior was willing to bless this boy and his imperfect father. And I believe he is willing to bless me. Even though I make mistakes that cause me guilt, they need not bring me shame.

Atonement Blessings: Give Peace A Chance

I am grateful for the atonement. Why? Because of what I have come to learn through my own experience with the atonement. The thoughts for this post grew out of discussions my wife and I have had about the atonement as she prepared a talk for this past weekend’s stake conference on the same subject. (Her talk was outstanding, by the way!)

Perhaps the first blessing of the atonement (though maybe not the first one I realized in my own life) is the free gift of resurrection. Through the Savior’s resurrection, we all overcome the physical death that comes to us because of the fall.

The first blessing I realized from the atonement, however, is the gift of repentance – the opportunity to right a wrong. I can think of times when my parents taught me this principle when I was a small child, before I really needed repentance (though we didn’t know that at the time; we didn’t leave our protestant congregation for the LDS church until I was nearly nine). I learned as small child the power of apologizing and trying to correct a mistake. As my wife points out in her talk, the value of repentance is that it helps us get in a place to feel the influence of the Holy Ghost.

And for many years, I believed repentance was the key to the blessings of the atonement in our lives. As a bishop some years ago I watched the atonement come alive for more than one person who sought to return to the Lord’s path. And as a father, I’ve enjoyed the healing balm of the atonement as I’ve recognized and corrected errors in my own parenting.

But in the last five years or so, I’ve come to understand another benefit of the atonement, namely that I can forgive someone else. I had always assumed the atonement was so I could seek the Lord’s forgiveness. But now I believe it is just as important for me to forgive. And I can only do that effectively because of the atonement.

In Alma 7 we read of the power of the sacrifice of Jesus Christ:

And he shall 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 (v. 11-12).

Because the Lord has taken upon himself the pains and afflictions and infirmities of every kind (including mine!), I can freely forgive. I can do so without expectation of retribution or recompense. I can allow societal and legal consequences to fall where they may, but I do not need to exact my pound of flesh from one who hurts me because the Savior has made me whole. The atonement has offered me the healing balm I need.

One of the key products of forgiveness for me is peace, because when I forgive, I can leave behind the anger and resentment that I otherwise carry around with me. The act of “letting it go” lightens my burden (by laying it at the Savior’s feet).

My wife concluded her talk with this verse from John. It is, for me, the gift of the atonement most available to me in this life:

Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid (John 14:27).

That's a peace I'd like to give a chance.

Supporting Sinners

Elder Clayton Christensen, then an area authority seventy, taught us in a stake conference a few years ago that maxim that the church is not a resort for the perfect, but a hospital for sinners. He said if we didn’t smell tobacco in our sacrament meeting, then we probably weren’t working hard enough to reach out to others (either in missionary work or reactivation).

King Benjamin taught a similar principle: our obedience to God’s commandments does not put him in our debt, ever. We are always in His debt; we are nothing; without the atonement, we are worthless (see Mosiah 4).

In our zeal to protect our home and family from evil (which we should do), how do we hate sin and love sinners? How can we judge (being sinners ourselves)? Mosiah 4 speaks of sharing our substance with those in need; does that extent to our sharing our love with fellow sinners who are also seeking a path home? I believe it does.

I remember when someone shared his love with me. I was a new Sunday School president just about the time Sunday School presidents were becoming less relevant. We had no more opening exercises. And soon teacher inservice would be phased out, as well. Being the young return missionary I was, I thought I knew all there was to know, and I resisted the efforts of my stake Sunday School president to support and train me. My rebellious attitude must have been obvious to him, but he was unflappable. Each time he visited our ward, he put his arm around me and told me how much he loved me, and told me how pleased he was with what I was doing.

Despite my pride, his love was genuine (and disarming). It was impossible for me to ignore it. And I remember it thirty years later.

It is easy for us to find fault with others, to find reasons not to relate, not to engage. But that’s not what the Savior taught us, is it?

But I say unto you which hear, Love your enemies, do good to them which hate you,

Bless them that curse you, and pray for them which despitefully use you.

And unto him that smiteth thee on the one cheek offer also the other; and him that taketh away thy cloke forbid not to take thy coat also.

Give to every man that asketh of thee; and of him that taketh away thy goods ask them not again.

And as ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise.

For if ye love them which love you, what thank have ye? for sinners also love those that love them.

And if ye do good to them which do good to you, what thank have ye? for sinners also do even the same.

And if ye lend to them of whom ye hope to receive, what thank have ye? for sinners also lend to sinners, to receive as much again.

But love ye your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be the children of the Highest: for he is kind unto the unthankful and to the evil (Luke 6:27-35).

Turning Weakness Into Strength

Ten days ago I wrote about personal inventories, and a week ago, I wrote about sharing those inventories.

An inventory will likely include at least three things: some strengths (what we’re good at), some weaknesses (what we’re not so good at), and maybe some sins (what we’ve done wrong).

There is for me a key difference between weakness and sin. To me, a weakness is a lack of strength. It is an area where I may not have a natural talent, or where I may struggle with a particular temptation. A sin, on the other hand, is action taken by me to transgress God’s law. My sin may grow out of weakness. But it may also grow out of strength if my pride (a weakness) leads me to overestimate my strength.

Scriptures teach us that the redemptive nature of the atonement can save us from sin if we repent, and it can help us turn our weakness to strength. If I identify physical weakness, I might engage in a program of exercise and physical training to overcome that weakness. I may be more successful if I engage the help of a guide who understands the science of exercise. My personal efforts may lead directly to my overcoming my weakness.

Heber J. Grant is famous for overcoming his weakness in baseball and handwriting. Persistence and exercise helped him.

When I struggled with my response to stress in my life, a professional therapist helped me work a series of exercises that allowed me to have better control over my response to that stress, contributing to an improvement in my relationship with my wife and children.

Our trials may reveal weaknesses. In Ether we read:

And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them (Ether 12:27).

In addition to whatever we may do by ourselves, the power of the atonement can also help us to overcome our weaknesses. That change may not come on our timetable, and we may not be able to control the outcome of that change. But it can come.

In the twelve-step program, the next step after sharing our inventory is preparing to have God remove our weaknesses, and then asking him to do so. Those steps make me think of Lamoni’s father who was willing to give away all his sins to know God (Alma 22:18). I think of preparing ourselves to have God remove our weaknesses like a visit to a chiropractor: the chiropractor aligns the spine for optimal performance; we align ourselves to God’s will for our optimal performance.

In the case of sin, we can repent. In the case of weakness, it’s not really repentance we need, but grace. In the case of our strengths, it’s humility. All three come to us through the atonement.

My best Easter ever

No, it wasn't today. But today was great. Our bishopric gave inspiring talks about the Savior and His life and ministry. We had a wonderful Easter dinner with extended family. And we had a wonderful spirit as we read scriptures tonight before the kids went to bed.

But my best Easter Sunday is still fresh in my mind. I was in graduate school in Pittsburgh about a quarter century ago, attending as an adult the ward I attended as a child. It was General Conference weekend, and there was something wrong with the satellite dish, so we couldn't get the first bit of the first Sunday session of conference.

Someone asked the bishop if we could sing hymns until the dish was fixed. He went one step further and assigned an opening hymn and prayer, and another hymn, and then, he announced, I would read the Easter story from John. During the hymns I madly searched for the Easter story in John (Chapter 20, I quickly discovered).

I don't know why he asked me to read it. Perhaps because I was sitting on the front row. Perhaps because I was teaching seminary at the time. Perhaps because he thought I could read through it clearly. Perhaps because he wanted me to have the blessing of doing it.

As I stood before the congregation and read, it was a remarkable experience for me. As I read those words aloud, the truth of the resurrection and the events surrounding it swelled in my heart. The confirmation of the spirit was clear and strong for me that day, and returns each time I read that chapter.

It happened again today as I deviated from our planned lesson in Gospel Essentials and read John 20 with our class today. (We did spend time on our planned lesson, too, but the meat was clearly in John.)

And it happened again in our living room as we read together as a family.

I'm grateful for that confirming witness that reminds me of our Savior's love for us, and for me.

Commencing

My oldest daughter (and fourth child) graduated from BYU today. She’s the second of our kids to graduate college, and the first to graduate from BYU. It was hard not to think of our own graduation (my wife and I received our bachelor’s degrees together in 1983) and make comparisons. Her graduation was much larger than ours (hers in April, ours in August). Her commencement speaker was Richard G. Scott (delightful!); ours was Hugh Nibley (also delightful, but in quite different ways).

Our daughter is quite nervous leaving the safety of BYU, though she will also tell you she is ready. She has no job, yet, but has a few leads, including a big interview next week that we hope will go well. And she has a backup plan or two in case that doesn’t pan out. If all else fails, she can spend a while at our house and sort out options for the future.

As I look with her toward her future, I also look toward my own. I’m coming ever closer to the time when I said I’d go back and certify to teach, and wonder if I ever will. I face my own uncertainty about those big decisions that can change the future, and it’s no easier for me than for my daughter. In some ways it’s more difficult for me, since I still have kids at home to get through school.

But it’s telling that commencement signals the beginning, not the end. And many of us learn that each day is a new beginning. We do not “graduate” from things in life, but each day we commence anew, seeking to know God’s will for us that day, to know whom we can serve and how. We commence each week as we partake of the sacrament and renew sacred covenants. We commence as we attend the temple for those who have died before us and remember covenants we have made there and recommit ourselves to honor them. We commence as we regularly rededicate ourselves to those relationships that are most important to us. We commence as we repent of our mistakes and invite the blessings of the atonement to help us to improve.

A friend reminds me from time to time, Right where you are is a great place to begin. Here’s to beginning.

On knowing and believing

I had an interesting conversation with a friend recently.

She is a convert to the church and she has had some remarkable experiences which have taught her that God loves her, and that He has intervened in her life. She will tell you that she knows that Jesus suffered for her sins and by His atoning sacrifice she has already been greatly blessed.

And yet sometimes she feels weak and inadequate. Sometimes she feels unworthy of His love. She feels, sometimes, that she is not worth rescuing.

As I listened to her, I thought of my own experience. I joined the church with my parents when I was about nine, so I effectively grew up in the church. I have never doubted that God lives. I have never questioned that Savior suffered and died for me. I have repeatedly felt the witness of the Holy Ghost testifying of the truthfulness of the plan of salvation as it has been taught to me and as I have taught it to others.

And yet when it came time for me to call upon the atonement in a very real way, I did not reach for it.

I knew it was true, but I did not really believe it was true for me.

Of course at the time, I did not understand that’s what I was doing. By clinging to what I “knew”, I was looking through a glass darkly, seeing the shape of the atonement without allowing it to lift and comfort me as I had watched it do for others. I knew the facts of the atonement, but I did not believe it (enough).

Often our discussion is on the progression from belief to knowledge. For me, in this instance it’s moving from knowledge to belief – or perhaps better said, faith. Specifically developing the faith that the atonement – which I had seen work for others – could also work for me.

Fortunately on most days I have crossed that bridge. And on many days so has my friend. And I’ve recognized and enjoyed those blessings of the atonement in my life. But it is, I suspect, a challenging bridge for most of us to cross, precisely when we need to cross it.

On turning one

I posted my first entry on this blog a year ago today. I had no idea what to expect. I started my blog for a number of reasons. First, I was driven to write, and blogging allows me to do that. Second, in an article in the October 2009 issue of the Ensign encouraged us to participate in the online dialog about the church.

I said I would blog about my own experience in and with the church, and I've tried to stay true to that mission. A few of my posts have strayed slightly, but in most of them I try to look at my own experiences and what they have taught me.

I've been surprised at the response. Since I started blogging, there have been well over 5,000 views of my blog. My most-viewed entry was coincidentally posted on my birthday, October 4, 2010, about my experience receiving my endowment in the Provo temple before my mission. I think that one got so many views because it was cited in a Mormon Times review of recent blog posts.

I've been recently surprised when people I know tell me they've been reading my blog. It pleases me to know that someone finds it interesting. I suppose if I were more controversial or hit more "hot" topics I might generate more comments, but for now I'm ok with where we are.

Looking back, here are a five of my favorite entries:

Face to Face With Apostles in which I talk about three very brief personal interactions I've had with members of the Quorum of the Twelve

Salt Lake Sealing in which I talk about my experience as a child being sealed to my parents

A Memory of Yom Kippur in which I chronicle a vivid memory of the atonement's becoming real for me

Might I Be Wrong? in which I share a question that is one of the most helpful in my relationships with others

Adam and Eve As Co-Parents in which I discuss the value of moms and dads working together as parents

Thanks for reading!

A memory of Yom Kippur

Yom Kippur was this past weekend.

I think about it each fall, not because I celebrate the Jewish Day of Atonement.

But I do remember the day with fondness.

Years ago when I was serving as bishop, I had been meeting with a couple over a series of visits. In our last session together, the brother observed that it was Yom Kippur. He was grateful that the Day of Atonement reminded him to enjoy the blessings of the atonement in his life.

As I drove home from that interview, I thought about my son. At the time, I was unhappy with him and his choices. Two years earlier (almost to the day, as it turned out), I had written a self-righteous letter encouraging him to take advantage of the atonement in his life.

On this particular night, I got home and found that letter, reread it, and then wrote a new one. In the new letter I apologized for the first. And I acknowledged that it was I who needed to seek the blessings of the atonement.

Yes, I was his father. Yes, I wanted what was best for him. But brow-beating him into submission was the wrong way for me to invite him to come unto Christ. And, looking back on key events in our shared lives, I realized that I’d done more than my share of brow-beating, albeit subtly at times.

That was years ago. I’m pleased to report that my son is a forgiving man, and that we enjoy a wonderful relationship. I have my son and the atonement to thank for that, because through the atonement I am able to change. And I’m grateful for Yom Kippur to remind me.

On spiritual self-sufficiency

We had a lesson in our High Priest Group this past Sunday about the welfare program of the church, and part of that discussion centered on the concept of spiritual self-sufficiency. I was intrigued by the discussion and made some notes during it to include here.

The idea in the welfare program is that we strive for self-sufficiency spiritually and temporally. And the reasons are clear: each member ought to have a strong testimony and be temporally strong enough to withstand the blows of life as they come. In so doing, they can be contributors in the Lord’s kingdom.

As it related to spiritual self-sufficiency, there were a few key points of interest in the discussion:

1. One brother suggested the start of spiritual self-sufficiency is a testimony of the gospel. Fair enough – if we have a testimony, we are more likely to participate and contribute spiritually and temporally. Further, we’re more likely to be in a position to teach our families and help them to do the same.

2. Another suggested that spiritual self-sufficiency grows out of (and is evidenced by) living consistently, meaning living according to our covenants and keeping the commandments because we choose to each day, rather than because our children or spouses or bishops are watching.

3. Another suggested that our spiritual self-sufficiency, ironically perhaps, is dependent upon our humility. If we are not humble, we are less likely to feel the promptings of the spirit, and if we do not feel those promptings, we will not follow them.

4. Our instructor then reminded us of Mosiah 4:16-20, in which King Benjamin reminds us that we are all beggars. Our instructor then suggested that the phrase spiritual self-sufficiency is a bit of a problem in and of itself, because we can never be completely self-sufficient: we are constantly begging for the Savior’s mercy, and without His grace we would never have access to the atonement.

This was a great discussion for me. Often I find myself thinking I know what there is to know on a subject, or that I’m squared away testimony-wise on a particular point of doctrine or history. Sometimes that feeling allows me to check out a little bit, rather than recognizing regularly my need for spiritual nourishment, my need for the Master’s mercy, and my constant dependence on His atonement for my spiritual survival.

Better to check back in and to realize that while I strive for spiritual self-sufficiency, I cannot do it alone.

Taking Inventory

When I came home from my mission years ago, my first Sunday was ward conference, and my dad, who was on the high council, was one of the speakers. Dad had served on the high council for years and, frankly, as a youth I found his talks rather boring. But having experienced the same transformation that Mark Twain did, I was pleasantly surprised to see how much my dad had learned while I was away on my mission.

It was the late 1970's, and my folks had lived in Lagos, Nigeria during my mission in Germany; Dad's employment took him there, and they were able to witness the opening of West Africa to missionary work after the 1978 revelation on the priesthood.

My folks had joined the church in the late 1960's – I was nearly nine and was the youngest of four kids. My dad saw the church, among other things, as a means of protecting us kids against the changing mores in American society at the time. He and mom served faithfully in a series of callings since joining the church, and Dad landed on the high council within a few years of baptism, soon after our stake was formed.

In his talk in ward conference, my dad spoke about personal inventories. The topic was interesting to me as I was quite familiar with companionship inventories from my mission. During their time in Africa, my parents were the church. There was one other brother who would join them for a small sacrament meeting in their home a couple of times a month, but mostly it was Mom and Dad, holding a tiny worship service in their home in Lagos. After the two senior missionary couples came (after the 1978 revelation) to begin missionary work in West Africe, my parents had occasion visits from them, though the couples' primary work was outside Lagos in other parts of Nigeria and in Ghana. Mom and Dad were part of the International Mission at the time. And apparently, the time away from church structure gave them plenty of time to think about their membership, their commitment, their testimonies, and how they chose to live the gospel.

In his talk, Dad suggested that since God does not change, it's up to us to find Him and to orient our lives around him. This was a theme of Dad's membership. He was never one to place demands on God; he was uncomfortable with verses like D&C 82:10 that suggest that our obedience allows us to lay claim to blessings, and instead favored the King Benjamin view that God blesses us in His own way whenever we do right without our asking for it. In fact, one of Dad's reasons for leaving his protestant faith in the late 1960's was their annual meeting to decide what would be true for the next year.

So Dad's suggestion to do an occasional personal inventory made great sense to me. It's a chance for us to think about where God wants us to be and where we are, and to sort out how to close the gap. It's a chance to identify what we're doing right and wrong. And it's a chance for us to make course corrections where required.

The occasional inventory allows us to grow, too. It recognizes that our understanding of what is required of us may change over time – not that the requirements change, but that a new season in life might allow (or drive) a change in our focus. Dad, for instance, became a much more regular temple attender when a temple was close enough to get to in a day's drive, and when his travel schedule for work allowed him to be in one place for longer than a few weeks.

I'm a fan of the inventory, too. It seems to me that a personal inventory allows us greater access to the blessings of the Atonement, as it presents to us a case for change in our lives. In my mind, a good inventory is not simply a listing of what we perceive to be our deficiencies, but rather an account of strengths and weaknesses – what we'd like to do more of as well as things we see that we must change.

Have you had experience with a personal inventory?

The Atonement in My Life

With Easter week upon us, I find myself drawn to the remarkable circumstances surrounding the Atonement. It is ironic to me that sometimes among Mormon congregations Easter gets only a brief mention compared to the great significance given this holiday among other Christian denominations. (Another day perhaps I'll tell the story of the sacrament meeting I attended on Easter Sunday only to have a high councilor talk about food storage…)

But to be sure Latter-day Saints, like our other Christian friends, certainly hold dear the events surrounding Easter which are part of the all-encompassing atonement of Jesus Christ. The Savior began his suffering for our sins as he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, and that suffering continued on the cross where he was killed in an awful way. His sacrifice was as voluntary as it was complete.

His rising from the tomb on the third day, what we celebrate as Easter Sunday, signifies for all men and women the power to overcome death through a literal resurrection – a reuniting of body and spirit which overcomes the physical death introduced into the world when Adam and Eve were cast out of the Garden of Eden.

The Savior's suffering for our sins, indeed bearing all our pain, provides us the remarkable opportunity to change. Because of His grace in offering us His atoning sacrifice, we can not only overcome the finality of physical death, but we can also improve ourselves by following His example, and we can return to our Father in Heaven.

That opportunity to change is precious to me. Years ago, after a particularly difficult time with my then-young adult son, I sent him a long letter describing how the atonement could bless his life by allowing him to change for the better. I wrote it in my righteous indignation over mistakes I felt he had made, and I enumerated how, if he would be thoughtful and careful, he could take advantage of the opportunity to repent and find happiness.

The facts of my letter could have been spot on, but the tone was not. And it was not until two years later that I realized my error. A friend and I were discussing Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement. As we talked, I had come to my mind the original letter I had written (that I had in the meantime all but forgotten). I realized that while my son may have needed the atonement in his life, I needed it, too. And for me in that moment, my need was far greater than his.

I went home that night and wrote him another letter, also about the atonement, but also asking his forgiveness for my behavior two years earlier, recognizing (and admitting) the beam in my own eye instead of looking for the mote in his.

I was not perfect after I wrote that letter, but I was better. And I came to feel the blessing of the atonement in my own life as I sought to right wrongs for which I was responsible. My relationship with my son improved, not because he changed (though he did grow up over the years), but because I did.

I've had this same scene play over and over in my life as I have realized how much I need the atonement. We sing a hymn, "I Stand All Amazed," and I really am amazed at the love Jesus has shown me to allow me to change, to improve, to draw nearer to Him.