2 Nephi 25:23

I devote this post to examine how General Conference addresses in the restored church of Christ since 1971 define and use 2 Nephi 25:23, the most misinterpreted passage in the canon of the Restoration (you can find all 34 sermons at lds.org).

My purpose is to determine how many of the 34 addresses correctly interpret Nephi’s words, and support or refute my claim that 2 Nephi 25:23 is, in fact, the most misinterpreted passage in the canon of the Restoration:

For we labor diligently to write, to persuade our children, and also our brethren, to believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God; for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do (2 Nephi 25:23).

The generally accepted (and egregiously erroneous) interpretation of this verse is that we do everything in our power to work out our own salvation, and then Jesus intervenes and completes what we begin.

Some, however, like Bruce C. Hafen (see below), argue that we essentially save ourselves over the long haul as Jesus enables and empowers our own will and effort to become righteous enough to dwell in the full presence of God.

What does 2 Nephi 25:23 really mean?

Consider the following questions:

1. Why does Nephi write? Does he write to implore his people to save themselves? Does he write to instruct his people to do their best or do all they can do to save themselves? Why does he write?
2. Does Nephi argue that we are saved by what we do? Does he assert that what we do saves us? Does he allege that what we do directly and causally produces to any degree whatsoever our own salvation?
3. Does Nephi teach that we are saved by anything other than grace? Does Nephi devote his words solely to explain how we are saved, or does he both explain how we are saved and, like his father (Lehi) and brother (Jacob), define when we are saved (or lay claim to the hope of salvation)?

Think carefully about your answers to these questions, because if you answer them incorrectly, then you will wrest Nephi’s words like virtually every member of the restored church of Christ wrests them.

Theodore M. Burton (Salvation and Exaltation, April 1972) mistakes the conditions of salvation for the cause of salvation, and quotes 2 Nephi 25:23 to that end (grace + what we do = salvation). Writing off Ephesians 2:8 as merely a reference to Christ’s victory over temporal death, Burton speaks of “an additional salvation [above and beyond our universal rescue from physical death, which deliverance he mislabels as “salvation”] that God has planned for his children,” a salvation “conditioned not only upon grace, but also upon obedience to gospel law.” In this statement, Burton makes our obedience coequal with the grace of Christ in our obtaining eternal life. Burton argues that “only through obedience to the laws of God can [we] claim [our] inheritance in the celestial kingdom,” and we “cannot be exalted in [our] sins, but must work until [we] overcome them.”

After quoting 2 Nephi 25:23, Burton explains:

That full reconciliation to God is extremely important to me. It is the idea of a personal atonement or reconciliation that can bring me back into the presence of God as one of his covenant sons that appeals to me.

Given that we “must work until [we] overcome” our sins, I am not certain whether Burton’s reference to a “personal atonement or reconciliation” applies to himself as “one of [God’s] covenant sons,” or to Christ.

Marion G. Romney (“In Mine Own Way,” October 1976) superimposes 2 Nephi 25:23 over the top of Ephesians 2:8-9 by noting that “[s]ome have interpreted it to mean that works are not necessary,” which is “an erroneous conclusion.” He argues that the “truth is that we are saved by grace only after all we ourselves can do.”

The issue is not whether works are necessary, but rather whose works are necessary for our salvation. In plainer words, Paul is summarizing the attainable standards of the gospel in one word, faith, and observing that when we come to Christ in the path of his gospel, we are saved entirely by his grace.

Romney makes our “works” coequal with the grace of Christ in our obtaining eternal life. Misapplying principles of the necessity of our earthly labors, Romney makes this astonishing declaration:

There will be no government dole which can get us through the pearly gates. Nor will anybody go into the celestial kingdom who wants to go there on the works of someone else. Every man must go through on his own merits. We might just as well learn this here and now.

I think I understand what Romney probably means, but he has no excuse to be so imprecise and reckless with the language of Christianity.

Non-Mormon Christians rightly cringe at the foolish expression of such legalistic sentiments.

Do we really gain heaven “on [our] own merits”?

Do not all those who gain entrance to the “celestial kingdom,” the highest heaven, do so in a direct, causal sense because of the “works of someone else,” namely Jesus, who “saves all the works of his hands [including those who inherit the celestial heaven], except those sons of perdition who deny the Son after the Father has revealed him” (D&C 76:43)?

In the matter of salvation, Romney directly contradicts the exacting and thoughtful Lehi, who plainly declares: “[T]here is no flesh that can dwell in the presence of God, save it be through the merits, and mercy, and grace of the Holy Messiah …” (2 Nephi 2:8).

Whose merits?

Ours?

Does grace work in partnership with our merits—our goodness, holiness, and worthiness? Does Lehi think his merits bring him to “dwell in the presence of God”?

Are the principles of the welfare program of the restored church of Christ directly applicable to the procurement of our salvation?

Certainly not.

Bruce R. McConkie (Come, Know the Lord Jesus, April 1977) merges the conditions of salvation with the cause of salvation. He acknowledges that the “immortality” of resurrection comes “to all men as a free gift,” but fails to recognize that the gift of eternal life is also a free gift to those who come to Christ. McConkie attempts to distinguish the gift of immortality from the gift of eternal life based on whether or not each one is “free.” He inherently believes that eternal life is, in fact, not free because we must earn it—we must directly acquire it by our alleged “obedience to the laws and ordinances of the gospel.”

This is salvation by contract, not condescension.

In contrast, Lehi understands that every aspect of salvation is free because salvation comes to us exclusively through the perfect work of Christ. Lehi proclaims that “the way is prepared from the fall of man, and salvation is free” (2 Nephi 2:4) because it comes “in and through the Holy Messiah” (2 Nephi 2:6), not in and through what we do.

The issue here is not whether we have to do something to be saved, but rather to discern correctly between what Jesus does and what we do.

The great challenge of life is not to save ourselves, something that only Christ has power to do, but to come to Jesus. What we do either brings us to him, the singular possessor of the power of salvation, or takes us away from him. We have every reason to pursue Christ, because he alone can save us.

McConkie’s appraisal of the mechanics of salvation implicitly presumes that Christ’s acquisition by atonement of the power to bestow eternal life is insufficient, for we must obtain his “available” work in progress and then finish it ourselves by our “obedience to the laws and ordinances of the gospel.”

In one breath he correctly argues that the name of Christ “is the only name given under heaven whereby salvation comes,” and in the next mistakenly makes of him a facilitator, a middle-man who cannot save us directly, but must instead arrange a contractual relationship by which are we saved as both parties to the contract fulfill their respective obligations.

McConkie does not adequately distinguish between cause and condition. He merges our efforts to comply with the attainable requirements of the gospel with the cause of salvation, and misinterprets 2 Nephi 25:23 to that end, “‘for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do.’”

President Spencer W. Kimball (An Eternal Hope in Christ, October 1978) incongruously emphasizes the we in the phrase “‘after all we can do’” (2 Nephi 25:23), and sandwiches it in between the pure Messianic teachings of King Benjamin (Mosiah 3:18), Nephi’s own subtle, unrecognized definition of all we can do, “[B]elieve in Christ, and … be reconciled to God,” (2 Nephi 25:23), and Nephi’s affirmation of salvation in Christ (2 Nephi 25:26).

In this interpretive scheme, we are left to wonder who is right, King Benjamin (Mosiah 3:18) and Nephi (2 Nephi 25:26), or Nephi (2 Nephi 25:23).

Marion G. Romney (Fundamental Welfare Services, April 1979) returns to his previous misinterpretation of 2 Nephi 25:23 (“In Mine Own Way,” October 1976), once again mistakes the conditions of salvation for the cause of salvation, and doubles down on the assertion that we gain heaven through our own merits:

It will require maximum effort for us to bring ourselves within the reach of the atoning blood of Jesus Christ so that we can be saved. There will be no government dole which can get us through the pearly gates. Nor will anyone go through those gates who wants to go through on the efforts of another.

Since his last address, Romney now ups the ante by alleging that “maximum effort” brings us “within the reach of the atoning blood of Jesus Christ so that we can be saved.” At least in his first sentence, Romney momentarily distinguishes cause from condition, even if he misjudges the latter, only to then fall back to the wholesale misappropriation of the purpose of our efforts in the plan of salvation.

Having misapplied principles of the welfare program of the church to salvation, Romney further discloses his misunderstanding of 2 Nephi 25:23 by declaring : “The first principle of action in Church Welfare is, therefore, for us to take care of ourselves as far as possible.”

No wonder, then, that for many in the popular consciousness of the restored Church of Christ, we do all we can to save ourselves, and then Jesus does the rest.

Hartman Rector, Jr. (Following Christ to Victory, April 1979) supports his call for our incrementally improving missionary efforts by citing 2 Nephi 25:23:

Success this month is not a justification to stop and glory in our record, but should merely serve as an impetus to greater and more noble accomplishments next month in the Lord’s name. For in the words of Nephi, “We know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do” (2 Ne. 25:23).

The obvious implication here is that, given enough time and effort, we are saved as we incrementally improve, an idea consistent with the title of the address.

Richard G. Scott (The Plan for Happines and Exaltation, October 1981) teaches that spiritual power to accomplish the will of the Lord received through inspiration comes “from God after we have done ‘all we can do’” (2 Nephi 25:23). By this interpretation, Scott implicitly believes that we can make great spiritual strides with regard to our own salvation, and that the grace of Jesus completes our salvation only after we do “all we can do.”

Ezra Taft Benson (A New Witness for Christ, October 1984) explains one purpose of the Book of Mormon:

… [W]hat is the major purpose of the Book of Mormon? To bring men to Christ and to be reconciled to him, and then to join his church—in that order. (See 2 Ne. 25:23; D&C 20:11–14, 35–37.)

Benson refers to the first part of 2 Nephi 25:23 (“For we labor diligently to write, to persuade our children, and also our brethren, to believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God”), but does not comment on the troublesome second part.

Dallin H. Oaks (“What Think Ye of Christ?” October 1988), in an otherwise commendable doctrinal exposition of the atonement, stumbles by failing to adequately distinguish what Christ does from what we do.

After commenting on the heresies of self-perfection and denial of the divinity of Christ, Oaks writes:

Are Latter-day Saints susceptible to such heresies? The Apostle Paul wrote that we should “work out [our] own salvation with fear and trembling.” (Philip. 2:12.) Could that familiar expression mean that the sum total of our own righteousness will win us salvation and exaltation? Could some of us believe that our heavenly parentage and our divine destiny allow us to pass through mortality and attain eternal life solely on our own merits?

This is the point of the address where Oaks begins to misstep. He accepts the fact that we do, in fact, literally “‘work out [our] own salvation with fear and trembling.’” He frames his explanation of salvation, not in terms of whose merits bring us salvation, but whether our “merits” alone allow us to “attain eternal life.”

With such an introduction, the doctrine of a cooperatively realized salvation certainly lies at the doors, and Oaks does not disappoint:

On the basis of what I have heard, I believe that some of us, some of the time, say things that can create that impression. We can forget that keeping the commandments, which is necessary, is not sufficient. As Nephi said, we must labor diligently to persuade everyone “to believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God; for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do.” (2 Ne. 25:23.)

Implicitly mistaking our commandment-keeping as a coequal cause of salvation, Oaks argues that our righteousness is “necessary” but “not sufficient” to save us. What additional necessary term completes the left side of the equation, sufficient to produce salvation on the right side? Christ. Oaks’ mistake is not in the relative proportions of the two terms on the left side of the equation (what we do + Christ = salvation), but in the fact that he uses two terms (what we do + Christ) instead of one (Christ).

Oaks misinterprets 2 Nephi 25:23 to mean that the tandem of what we do and what Christ does directly brings about our salvation.

Oaks seals this misinterpretation by paraphrasing Nephi’s words: “[A]fter all our obedience and good works, we cannot be saved from the effect of our sins without the grace extended by the atonement of Jesus Christ.” The plain implication is that what we do works in concert with what Jesus does within the very framework of salvation itself.

Continuing his gospel of salvation by joint venture, Oaks, quoting Abinadi (Mosiah 13:28), explains that “salvation does not come by keeping the commandments alone,” and thereby strongly implies that salvation indeed comes, in part, by keeping commandments.

But this assessment does not hold water.

Abinadi asks the wicked priests of King Noah a question, and uses their answer to it as the basis for his Messianic sermon to them:

And what know ye concerning the law of Moses? Doth salvation come by the law of Moses? What say ye?

And they answered and said that salvation did come by the law of Moses (Mosiah 12:31-32).

Oaks answers Abinadi’s question by noting that the combination of our commandment-keeping and the atonement of Christ brings salvation to us.

But Abinadi never says that. Instead, he declares:

And now ye have said that salvation cometh by the law of Moses. I say unto you that it is expedient that ye should keep the law of Moses as yet; but I say unto you, that the time shall come when it shall no more be expedient to keep the law of Moses.

And moreover, I say unto you, that salvation doth not come by the law alone; and were it not for the atonement, which God himself shall make for the sins and iniquities of his people, that they must unavoidably perish, notwithstanding the law of Moses (Mosiah 13:27-28).

I have two questions for Oaks and everyone else who teaches the gospel of salvation by contract:

1. If salvation comes by our obedience to the law of Moses, what Oaks anachronistically refers to as our “keeping the commandments,” then are we Latter-day Saints without salvation because we do not keep the “necessary” law of Moses?
2. Given that Abinadi acknowledges that “the time shall come when it shall no more be expedient to keep the law of Moses,” does he really argue that salvation comes, in part, because of our commandment-keeping where he explains that “salvation doeth not come by the law alone”?

Fortunately, Abinadi answers his own question in the last words he utters to the wicked priests of King Noah, and definitively and decisively rejects the doctrine of a cooperatively realized salvation:

And now, ought ye not to tremble and repent of your sins, and remember that only in and through Christ ye can be saved?

Therefore, if ye teach the law of Moses, also teach that it is a shadow of those things which are to come—

Teach them that redemption cometh through Christ the Lord, who is the very Eternal Father. Amen (Mosiah 16:13-15).

We are saved “only in and through Christ” (emphasis added), not because we keep commandments. The direct causal source of salvation is only in Christ, given that “redemption cometh through Christ the Lord.” What he does is infinitely different from what we do. What we do does not in any degree whatsoever bring about our own salvation.

Oaks correctly dismisses the idea that we can earn our own salvation, but fails to remove our credit as its co-producers. He does not sufficiently separate the cause of salvation from the conditions upon which the Lord offers it to us.

What Christ does and what we do are not both conditions.

What Christ does and what we do are not both causes.

What Christ does is the cause of salvation.

What we do responds, for better or worse, to his conditions of salvation, and does not possess the power to save either ourselves or anyone else.

To his credit, Oaks then cites a slew of passages (2 Nephi 2:5, Mosiah 2:21, Alma 22:14, Alma 34:12, 2 Nephi 9:7, Alma 34:8-16, 2 Nephi 2:6-7, 2 Nephi 25:26) that either affirm or imply that salvation comes only in and through Jesus Christ, the Son of God, but fails to grasp that these passages contradict the apostle’s previous explanation of a contractually realized salvation.

How can Oaks agree with Lehi that “there is no flesh that can dwell in the presence of God, save it be through the merits, and mercy, and grace of the Holy Messiah” (2 Nephi 2:8), only to interpret 2 Nephi 25:23 to mean that we are saved by what we do and what Jesus does?

Must we be soteriologically schizophrenic to be Latter-day Saints?

Must we glowingly testify of the Savior’s work of redemption on the one hand, only to insist on our obedience to an often impossible regimen of righteousness to complete our own salvation on the other?

Our problem as Latter-day Saints is not that we believe that we save ourselves, but rather that we insist that we help save ourselves. Consequently, our argument with the rest of Christianity mistakenly focuses on the cause of salvation, and ignores one real point of conflict involving the conditions of salvation.

If we do not clearly delineate between cause and condition, and avoid mistaking the one for the other, then we will never interpret 2 Nephi 25:23 correctly, and we will never comprehend the doctrine of salvation by grace.

President Ezra Taft Benson (I Testify, October 1988) inaccurately describes the operation of the grace of Jesus. Benson affirms that Jesus “worked out the great Atonement, which, through His grace, provides for every soul a resurrection and, for the faithful, the means to become exalted in the celestial kingdom.”

Benson argues that grace, in and of itself, provides resurrection, but cannot, in and of itself, confer the gift of eternal life.  Indeed, the grace of Christ can muster only the “means to become exalted in the celestial kingdom,” and merely makes available to us the various contracts of salvation, to which we must perfectly conform, and by which we gain for ourselves heaven.

The Savior essentially becomes the Broker who provides a base salary with an attractive commission schedule.

This is salvation by contract, not condescension.

Nephi understands that grace provides all of salvation. His brother Jacob bids us to come to Christ, so that we can “obtain a resurrection, according to the power of the resurrection which is in Christ, and be presented as the first-fruits of Christ unto God,” and witness in that supernatural transformation the “good hope of glory in [Christ]” (Jacob 4:11) realized.

Do we, through our own will and effort, rise in a resurrection of celestial glory?

The fact that we must come to Jesus does not alter the spiritual reality that he alone saves us. He is the “means” of our salvation. He alone raises us up to eternal glory.

This is an argument about substance, not semantics.

We either save ourselves (to one degree or another), or we do not save ourselves.

Which is it?

The outward meaning of the law of Moses holds that we save ourselves.

How far removed from this paradigm are we Latter-day Saints in our appraisal of the gospel of Jesus?

If we cannot understand the vast discrepancy between salvation by contract and salvation by condescension, then we plainly deserve to remain exactly where we are now—incarcerated in the legalistic prison of our own collective misperception.

Marvin J. Ashton (“A Voice of Gladness,” April 1991) defends the proposition that “we don’t have to walk through life alone” by reference to the last part of 2 Nephi 25:23: “‘For we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do.’ (2 Ne. 25:23; italics added).” The implication is that we go as far as we can in our acquisition of salvation, and then Jesus takes us the rest of the way.

Robert L. Backman (Jesus the Christ, October 1991), of all the speakers at General Conference since 1971, comes closest to capturing the true meaning of 2 Nephi 25:23:

Jesus Christ is indeed more than a king; he is the Son of God, our Savior, our Redeemer, the author and finisher of our faith, King of kings, Lord of lords, Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. (See Heb. 12:2; Rev. 17:14; Isa. 9:6.)

That is what the gospel is all about. Without him [Christ], without his intervention in our behalf, we would be helpless in the face of Adam’s transgression. We are indeed saved by grace “through faith,” (see Eph. 2:8) or as Nephi wrote, “It is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do” (2 Ne. 25:23).

This statement (along with the entire sermon) is remarkable, a beautiful flower of grace in a desert of legalism.

I say, Amen.

Although Backman does not explicitly distinguish between cause (“grace”) and condition (“faith”), and does not further explain his correct but incomplete connection of the words of Paul to the words of Nephi, Backman captures the essence of the gospel of Jesus.

Although we are left to wonder how “faith” is the same as “all we can do,” or if Backman is illustrating similar but distinct appraisals of salvation, I must confess, given my research of 2 Nephi 25:23, that I am still shocked that someone in the governing quorums of the restored church of Christ correctly associates Paul and Nephi in this manner, and I say again, Amen.

Backman is the only one since 1971 who properly and approvingly links Ephesians 2:8 to 2 Nephi 25:23 in a General Conference address.

Gene R. Cook (Receiving Divine Assistance through the Grace of the Lord, April 1993), supported by the related (and utterly deficient) Bible Dictionary explanation, perceives grace as merely “‘enabling power,’” and accordingly misinterprets 2 Nephi 25:23 and a handful of other significant scriptures to that end:

Doing all in your own power is the fourth principle. Truly did Paul teach, “By grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God:

“Not of works, lest any man should boast.” (Eph. 2:8–9.)

Yes, works alone cannot bring that divine gift, but they are a key condition upon which the gift is received. (See 2 Ne. 10:23–25.) “For we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do.” (2 Ne. 25:23.)

Thus, unless one has done all in his own power, he cannot expect the grace of God to be manifest. What a glorious principle to understand: the Lord’s assistance to us—whether we have strong faith or weak faith; whether a man, a woman, or a child—is not based just on what we know, how strong we are, or who we are, but more upon our giving all that we can give and doing all that we can do in our present circumstance. Once one has given all he can, then the Lord, through His grace, may assist him. (See D&C 123:17.)

Clearly, the Lord’s role and our role in our receiving divine help come into clear perspective in these inspired words: “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” (Philip. 4:13.)

Cook wrests Paul’s words (Ephesians 2:8-9). Paul is not arguing that “works alone” are insufficient. Paul is arguing that our being saved, in a direct and causal sense, is “[n]ot of works” and “not of [ourselves].” Paul is testifying that we are saved entirely by grace.

How can Cook cite Paul, and then conclude, “Yes, works alone cannot bring that divine gift,” where Paul is proclaiming the absolute nature of grace?

Moreover, Paul does not teach that “works” are a “key condition upon which the gift [of grace] is received.” Paul teaches that “faith” is the “key condition,” what Mormon calls “real intent” (see Moroni 7:5-9). I do not dispute that real faith is demonstrated by real works, but works not born of faith are dead, which is why Paul properly teaches that “faith” is how we approach the Son of God to receive a fullness of his redeeming grace.

Cook essentially uses Nephi (2 Nephi 25:23) to overwrite Paul (Ephesians 2:8-9). Instead of recognizing that both disciples of Christ are preaching the same doctrine of redeeming grace, Cook transforms Paul’s “faith” and Nephi’s command to “believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God” (2 Nephi 25:23) into the impossible prerequisite to do “all in [our] own power” to help save ourselves. Cook asserts that the “grace of God” cannot “assist” us without our “giving all that we can give” and “doing all that we can do.”

This troublesome, self-aggrandizing, impossible standard condemns every last one of us fallen, mortal beings.

Cook erroneously asserts that we can, in fact, “‘do all things through Christ’” because Cook fails to discern the implied context of Paul’s statement, to distinguish the inherent limitations of fallen, mortal beings from the proprietary atoning power of Christ. Indeed, Cook cannot see in the doctrine of grace anything other than enabling help.

We may be empowered by enabling grace to do all kinds of magnificent works, but we cannot encroach on the redeeming grace that only Jesus can wield on our behalf, which is why both Paul and Nephi preach that we are indeed saved by grace. The grace of Ephesians 2:8-9 and 2 Nephi 25:23 is redeeming grace, not enabling grace.

Ronald E. Poelman (Divine Forgiveness, October 1993) explains that “[t]rue and complete repentance is a process by which we may become reconciled with God and accept the divine gift of forgiveness,” and the “Lord’s gift of forgiveness … is not complete until it is accepted [by us].” Poelman quotes the last part of 2 Nephi 25:23 to support his explanation.

To his credit, however, Poelman rightly declares that “we cannot save ourselves,” and correctly observes that “our individual suffering does not satisfy the demands of justice which follow disobedience to divine law” because we “cannot pay the price for our sins.” This is pure, unadulterated Christianity.

In fact, these two statements are like a pleasant breeze amid the oppressive heat of the uninhabitable desert of legalism (the conventional wisdom, not his address), even if his connection between repentance and 2 Nephi 25:23 is tenuous, particularly because Christ is the one who reconciles us to God, not our repentance (cause vs. condition).

Ted E. Brewerton (The Book of Mormon: A Sacred Ancient Record, October 1995) inexplicably quotes the complete text of 2 Nephi 25:23 without explaining it amid a recitation of fascinating “[a]ncient American literature” that lends support to the Book of Mormon account of Christ’s post-resurrection visit to the Americas.

Boyd K. Packer (The Brilliant Morning of Forgiveness, October 1995) compares our pursuit of the grace of Jesus to the harrowing, horrific trek John Breen of the ill-fated Donner Party endures to escape to the safety and solace of “Johnson’s Ranch.”  Packer observes: “Even that grace of God promised in the scriptures comes only ‘after all we can do’” (2 Nephi 25:23).

The severity of Packer’s sermon, like that of many of his addresses during all but the concluding years of his tenure as an apostle, is unmistakably stark:

John Breen did not come to that morning at Johnson’s Ranch simply by desiring it. He wallowed and clawed his way up over the pass, suffering every step of the way. But once he knew he would survive and the suffering would end, surely he did not complain at the ordeal. And he had help all the way down. He was with rescuers.

If Packer were a minion of Madison Avenue charged with marketing repentance to the masses, then perhaps he would propose this slogan: When you think of turning to the Lord and coming to Christ, think John Breen!

Carlos E. Asay (Stay on the True Course, April 1996) proclaims the partnership view of salvation:

This is the season of renewal and fresh beginnings. It is a time when our tears for the crucified Christ are wiped away by the sure knowledge of the resurrected Savior of all mankind. It is a time when “we talk of Christ, … rejoice in Christ,” and remind ourselves “that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do” (2 Ne. 25:23, 26; emphasis added).

Asay assures us that we are free to “‘talk of Christ’” and “‘rejoice in Christ,’” but only if we go as far as we can to save ourselves.

Richard G. Scott (Jesus Christ, Our Redeemer, April 1997) preaches the potent combination of our efforts and the Lord’s grace:

… Our Master lived a perfect, sinless life and therefore was free from the demands of justice. He was and is perfect in every attribute, including love, compassion, patience, obedience, forgiveness, and humility. His mercy pays our debt to justice when we repent and obey Him. Even with our best efforts to obey His teachings we will still fall short, yet because of His grace we will be saved “after all we can do” (2 Nephi 25:23).

Scott equates our “best efforts” with “‘all we can do.’” Since Christ lives “a perfect, sinless life,” and thereby frees himself from the punitive “demands of justice,” Scott implies that we save ourselves to the extent we successfully “obey [Christ’s] teachings,” or in other words, live a life that of our Redeemer.

However, if even Jesus of Nazareth traced his complete lineage back to Adam and Eve, then despite his “perfect, sinless life” he would still be fallen, and therefore incapable of saving anyone. The Lord must be both sinless and divine (even if it is impossible to be sinless without being divine).

Moreover, the Lord’s merciful intercession permanently ransoms both the repentant sinner and the unrepentant sinner from the perfect justice of heaven (Alma 42:15), and makes us subject to him instead according to the kind regimen of his attainable gospel (2 Nephi 2:10, Alma 42:13). Christ cannot conditionally atone for our sins, but must unconditionally atone for the Fall and its deluge of subsequent sins. Otherwise, those who do not find refuge in the Son of God will essentially succumb to the fate sealed upon the banished Lucifer and his rebellious followers.

Dallin H. Oaks (Have you Been Saved? April 1998) does not adequately delineate between the cause of salvation and the conditions of salvation.

He observes that the “New Testament frequently refers to the grace of God and to salvation by grace,” but then counters these references by recognizing that the New Testament also has “many specific commandments on personal behavior, and many references to the importance of works …”

In other words, what Jesus does and what do combine to realize our own salvation. The grace of Christ and our works become separate but necessary coequal components of a cooperatively achieved salvation.

Oaks writes:

Some Christians accuse Latter-day Saints who give this answer [the correction notion that we must endure in the faith of Jesus to the end of our “mortal probation”] of denying the grace of God through claiming they can earn their own salvation. We answer this accusation with the words of two Book of Mormon prophets. Nephi taught, “For we labor diligently … to persuade our children … to believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God; for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do” (2 Ne. 25:23). And what is “all we can do”? It surely includes repentance (see Alma 24:11) and baptism, keeping the commandments, and enduring to the end. Moroni pleaded, “Yea, come unto Christ, and be perfected in him, and deny yourselves of all ungodliness; and if ye shall deny yourselves of all ungodliness, and love God with all your might, mind and strength, then is his grace sufficient for you, that by his grace ye may be perfect in Christ” (Moro. 10:32).

The “Christians” to whom Oaks refers challenge the Latter-day-Saint mixing of cause and condition, which Oaks himself does by contrasting the grace of the New Testament with the conditions of salvation taught in the New Testament to argue that we not saved entirely by grace.

By alleging that what we do fills a gap not filled by grace, Oaks unwittingly acknowledges the truthfulness of the accusation that we Later-day Saints do, in fact, believe and teach that by virtue of our works—“‘all we can do’”—we complete a portion of our own salvation, since “‘it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do.’”

He explains that “‘all we can do,’” at a minimum, includes our “repentance,” “baptism,” “keeping the commandments,” “enduring to the end,” denial of “all ungodliness,” and “love” of “God with all [our] might, mind and strength.”

We go as far as we can in the march to salvation, and only then does Jesus carry us to the finish line.

The great error of this approach is that it denies the singular role of Christ as Savior, and ignores Nephi’s definition of his own words. All we can do is “believe in Christ, and … be reconciled to God …” (2 Nephi 25:23).

Even more depressing, in this formulation of the conditions of mercy, Oaks commingles three attainable standards of salvation with three commandments of the perfect day, which means that, at best, we will pass three of the six alleged components of salvation allotted to our care and completion, and none of us will make it to heaven.

Abinadi cries out to the wicked priests of King Noah:

And now, ought ye not to tremble and repent of your sins, and remember that only in and through Christ ye can be saved?

Therefore, if ye teach the law of Moses, also teach that it is a shadow of those things which are to come—

Teach them that redemption cometh through Christ the Lord, who is the very Eternal Father. Amen (Mosiah 16:13-15).

If we saved “only in and through Christ,” and “redemption cometh through Christ the Lord,” then how can we be saved by anything other than grace? In other words, how can we be saved in a direct and causal sense by anything other than Jesus?

Oaks, either ignorantly or inadvertently, assigns saving causality to our efforts to come to Christ, and fails to realize that everything we do in the gospel has power only to bring us to him so that he can save us the only way we can be saved—by grace. No relative righteousness we attain during our fallen, mortal lives is directly transferrable to heaven, which is why we must place the hope of our salvation entirely in our Redeemer.

Consequently, the purpose of our practice of righteousness is to exercise our agency to come to Christ, for he alone has power to raise us up in a glorious resurrection, and make us suitable to dwell in the full presence of God forever.

Christ alone saves us.

This is what sincere practitioners of Christianity are shouting at us, but we do not seem to comprehend the nature of their objection to our teaching.

Indeed, Oaks answers a question that he is not asked.

Instead of agreeing that we must be saved by grace, and then explaining how we come to Jesus to receive a fullness of his grace, Oaks launches into the ill-advised defense of a bifurcated salvation in which Jesus does his part and we do ours. This folly would be a persuasive tactic to proclaim the outward letter of the law of Moses, but is utterly lacking to explain what is going on in the plan of salvation.

We should at least understand the cause of salvation, and spend our time arguing, if we must, about the conditions of salvation, the manner in which we are to come to Christ.

But we cannot even get over the first hurdle.

Keith B. McMullin (Welcome Home, April 1999), the only General Authority in the restored church of Christ since 1971 to precisely define and explain the doctrine of being born again from the pulpit in General Conference (see the May 13, 2012 post, Born Again), falls for the view of a shared responsibility for salvation:

Heavenly Father knew the grave dangers we would face on our journey through life, but He remains resolute in His desire to have each and every one of His children return home. Therefore, He gave us time—time to work out our mistakes, time to overcome our sins, time to prepare for reunion. “There was a space granted unto man in which he might repent; therefore this life became a probationary state; a time to prepare to meet God” (Alma 12:24).

But Heavenly Father knew that even if we exerted every ounce of energy, we could not make it home without divine help. Therefore, He promised, “We will provide a savior for you!” (see 1 Ne. 10:4; 1 Ne. 13:40; Moses 1:6; 2 Ne. 25:23).

Following in the footsteps of his peers, McMullin argues that we can indeed “work out our mistakes,” “overcome our sins,” and thereby, “prepare for reunion,” but since we cannot get everything right, we still need “divine help.” He cites 2 Nephi 25:23 as support for his assessment, but also 1 Nephi 13:40, in which the angel who asks Nephi, “Knowest thou the condescension of God?” (1 Nephi 11:16), repudiates the notion of a shared responsibility for salvation. The angel foretells the coming forth of the Book of Mormon, and declares that this future record vehemently verifies that “all men must come unto him [the “Lamb of God,” the “Savior of the world”], or they cannot be saved.”

We cannot “work out our mistakes” and “overcome our sins” sufficient for the strict requirements of heaven. Everything we do, from the perspective of an infinitely holy, righteous God, is deficient and unsuitable.

Worse still, our efforts to “work out our mistakes” and “overcome our sins” cannot even form part of a formulation of salvation, because anything fallen, mortal beings attempt to contribute invalidates and taints the final product, which is why the angel tells Nephi that we must come to Christ if we want salvation.

What our efforts to “work out our mistakes” and “overcome our sins” do, under the auspices of genuine faith, is help bring us to Christ.

This is why the angel who speaks with Nephi adopts the view of a singular salvation, and does not confuse what we do with what Christ does.

James E. Faust (The Atonement: Our Greatest Hope) rivals Marion G. Romney’s gratuitous wresting of 2 Nephi 25:23, and trumpets the notion of salvation by joint venture in an address filled with glaring internal inconsistencies.

Faust declares:

… All of us have sinned and need to repent to fully pay our part of the debt. When we sincerely repent, the Savior’s magnificent Atonement pays the rest of that debt (2 Nephi 25:23).

Which debt?

Faust never specifies, but there is little question he is referring to the price demanded by the perfect justice of heaven for the Fall and all its subsequent sins. Make no mistake, we pay “our part of the debt,” and when “we sincerely repent,” Jesus “pays the rest of that debt.”

What if we do not repent? Do we pay the “rest of that debt,” or is the “rest of that debt” left unpaid?

Faust further clarifies his indefensible and careless position:

… I am profoundly grateful for the principle of saving grace. Many people think they need only confess that Jesus is the Christ and then they are saved by grace alone. We cannot be saved by grace alone, “for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do” (2 Nephi 25:23; emphasis added).

If some “confess that Jesus is the Christ,” then in Faust’s own logic, how is this confession not a condition of salvation? How can Evangelicals and others be “saved by grace alone” if they must first confess the Lord Jesus?

Faust, perhaps without realizing it, is correctly describing how salvation comes to us in his presentation of a non-Mormon-Christian model of salvation in which fallen, mortal beings do something to come to Christ—they “confess that Jesus is the Christ” (Romans 10:9)—and then “they are saved by grace alone.”

Faust’s set-up captures the truth. We come to Christ in the path of his attainable gospel, and then he saves us entirely “by grace.”

So says Nephi (along with Lehi, Jacob, and every other preacher of righteousness in the Book of Mormon), but Faust does not see it that way.

He argues that we “cannot be saved by grace alone” because the Lord requires us to do something. Faust then erroneously concludes that what the Lord requires us to do must therefore save us, to one degree or another.

Evangelicals “confess that Jesus is the Christ.”

We Latter-day Saints do the same, and then some.

Are we not both doing something? How can Faust argue that Evangelicals and other so-called born-again Christians are saved by “grace alone” if they must first “confess that Jesus is the Christ”?

Faust never considers the stark spiritual reality that, given our fallen condition, what we do cannot save us. What we do has a different purpose in the plan of salvation. What we do brings us to Christ. His atonement brings meaning to everything we do because he imbues it with the power to come to him sufficiently well to receive a fullness of his grace.

We must come to Christ because he is only one who can save us.

Nephi indeed teaches that “it is by grace that we are saved” after we do the only thing we can do—“believe in Christ, and … be reconciled to God” (2 Nephi 25:23).

This is not a difficult doctrine, but we Latter-day Saints make it difficult. So convinced are we of the innate goodness and righteousness of what we do that we water down the doctrine of grace. We turn it into a mixed drink. We allegedly throw in all kinds of fallen, mortal things, the divine Jesus adds the rest, and voilà! Salvation!

Not so.

Not even close.

This appraisal of salvation does not even pass the muster of Christianity 101. Jesus does not come to partially satisfy divine justice, and he certainly does not come to partially save us. Jesus comes to save us—completely, utterly, start to finish, absolutely and entirely. He comes to make intercession, and through his sinless atonement, to acquire the power to not only forgive us, but also elevate us to eternal realms of glory through the supernatural transformation of resurrection.

Faust relates a story from President Gordon B. Hinckley:

Some years ago, President Gordon B. Hinckley told “something of a parable” about “a one room school house in the mountains of Virginia where the boys were so rough no teacher had been able to handle them.

“Then one day an inexperienced young teacher applied. He was told that every teacher had received an awful beating, but the teacher accepted the risk. The first day of school the teacher asked the boys to establish their own rules and the penalty for breaking the rules. The class came up with 10 rules, which were written on the blackboard. Then the teacher asked, ‘What shall we do with one who breaks the rules?’

“‘Beat him across the back ten times without his coat on,’ came the response.

“A day or so later, … the lunch of a big student, named Tom, was stolen. ‘The thief was located—a little hungry fellow, about ten years old.’

“As Little Jim came up to take his licking, he pleaded to keep his coat on. ‘Take your coat off,’ the teacher said. ‘You helped make the rules!’

“The boy took off the coat. He had no shirt and revealed a bony little crippled body. As the teacher hesitated with the rod, Big Tom jumped to his feet and volunteered to take the boy’s licking.

“‘Very well, there is a certain law that one can become a substitute for another. Are you all agreed?’ the teacher asked.

“After five strokes across Tom’s back, the rod broke. The class was sobbing. ‘Little Jim had reached up and caught Tom with both arms around his neck. “Tom, I’m sorry that I stole your lunch, but I was awful hungry. Tom, I will love you till I die for taking my licking for me! Yes, I will love you forever!”’”

This moving story is an apt metaphor for salvation, yet there is nothing in this story that supports Faust’s interpretation of salvation. Little Jim does not bear all the punishment he can. Big Tom endures all of it. All Little Jim can do is come to Big Tom and express his gratitude.

This is, in essence, all we can do. All we can do is come to Christ, symbolically throw our arms around his neck, and exclaim, “I will love you forever for bearing the wrath of God in my stead and exalting me to heaven!” We can neither endure any portion of the punishment God inflicts upon his Son, nor contribute any measure of the redemptive power that raises us up in glory. All we can do is exercise our agency to come to him, which is hard enough already in this world, before we throw in the superfluous, additional burdens of our alleged quota of salvation, holiness, and perfection.

Non-Mormon Christians who believe they are “saved by grace alone” are correct.

Non-Mormon Christians who believe they come to Christ solely through the one-time tandem of belief and confession are incorrect.

Latter-day Saints who believe they are not “saved by grace alone” are incorrect.

Latter-day Saints who believe they save themselves in part by what they do in the gospel to come to Christ are incorrect.

Nephi is correct—we come to Christ and he saves us—if we will just interpret his words correctly.

Jeffrey R. Holland (A Prayer for the Children, April 2003) cites 2 Nephi 25:23, but focuses on Nephi’s intent to teach his children, and avoids the issue of salvation.

Dennis E. Simmons (But If Not …, April 2004) misapplies Nephi’s words to overcoming life’s challenges:

What does the Lord expect of us with respect to our challenges? He expects us to do all we can do. He does the rest. Nephi said, “For we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do” (2 Nephi 25:23).

Simmons argues that since we are saved after we “do all we can do,” then the Lord must surely dispense his earthly aid to us based on the same impossible standard, the benchmark that requires us to continually live on the outer boundaries of our capacity for good.

Bruce C. Hafen (The Atonement: All for All, April 2004) proclaims the so-called impossible Mormon gospel, a caricature of the restored gospel of Christ.

Hafen mistakes redeeming grace for enabling grace:

But growth means growing pains. It also means learning from our mistakes in a continual process made possible by the Savior’s grace, which He extends both during and “after all we can do” (2 Nephi 25:23).

If Hafen is right, then we learn “from our mistakes in a continual process” until we get everything right. Indeed, if we continue “learning from our mistakes” even after all we can do, then truly there is no limit to what we can do.

But this is not what Nephi is saying. He is not speaking of our incremental improvement on a fallen, mortal scale, but our ultimate sanctification and perfection by Christ. Nephi clearly separates what we can do from what Christ does. If we “believe in Christ” and through him become “reconciled to God,” then we are saved “by grace” (2 Nephi 25:23)—transformed and elevated to heaven. Unlike Hafen, Nephi does not apply redeeming grace to our efforts and what we do because he is preaching how we are to be ultimately saved in the kingdom of heaven.

There is no question that the Lord helps us in what we do, but Nephi is not talking about the assistance of enabling grace. His thoughts are firmly fixed on the means by which we rise in glory and dwell with God forever.

Hafen, like all legalists (accidental or otherwise), makes us coequal with Christ at the center of the plan of salvation. Jesus makes our salvation possible, but, with his help, we are charged with realizing it:

We need grace both to overcome sinful weeds and to grow divine flowers. We can do neither one fully by ourselves. But grace is not cheap. It is very expensive, even very dear. How much does this grace cost? Is it enough simply to believe in Christ? The man who found the pearl of great price gave “all that he had” (Matthew 13:46; see also Alma 22:15). If we desire “all that [the] Father hath” (D&C 84:38), God asks all that we have. To qualify for such exquisite treasure, in whatever way is ours, we must give the way Christ gave—every drop He had: “How exquisite you know not, yea, how hard to bear you know not” (D&C 19:15). Paul said, “If so be that we suffer with him,” we are “joint-heirs with Christ” (Romans 8:17). All of His heart, all of our hearts.

Hafen argues that with Christ’s help we can indeed “overcome sinful weeds,” and even “grow divine flowers.” Hafen sees in fallen, mortal beings the ability to directly approach the divine.

He raises an intriguing issue: How much does the grace of Jesus cost us?

Interestingly, Hafen’s assertion that “grace is not cheap,” that it is “very expensive,” accurately describes its acquisition by Christ. For Jesus, the price of redeeming grace is very expensive because its price is infinite. But for us, that same grace is actually free because salvation is free.

Salvation is free (2 Nephi 2:4).

Salvation is free to us because we cannot acquire it for ourselves. As fallen, mortal beings, we do not even possess the currency required to either purchase it outright or by installment. We cannot buy it. We cannot acquire it by contractual means or force of law.

Remarkably, the only way for us to obtain through grace what Jesus procures by atonement is to exercise our agency to come to him to freely receive his salvation.

This is, in fact, Nephi’s misunderstood conclusion (2 Nephi 25:23).

Hafen’s intractable self-serve view of salvation clashes mightily with Lehi’s vision of the tree of life, which is the preeminent symbol of redeeming grace in the canon of the Restoration.

For the souls traversing the path that leads to the tree (a symbol of God’s love for us in the manifestation of his Son), the question is not if they give their all, but rather if they endure in the path that leads to the tree, freely partake of its fruit, and then remain there, unmoved by the taunts and mockery of the world.

The difference between Hafen’s approach and Lehi’s vision is the difference between salvation by contract (and what a cumbersome contract it is!) and salvation by condescension.

There is no direct comparability between the divine all of Christ and the fallen shortfall of the rest of us.

If we must give like Christ gives, then no one is saved.

In the Lord’s famous perfect-day parable, the merchant indeed sells all that he has to acquire the pearl of great price, but the attainable aspect of this parable is that we pursue the pearl, and place nothing else above it.

The rich young man indeed balks at the Lord’s initial request to sell all that he has, and cuts short a conversation that should continue, but the same Lord does not ask the same thing of “rich” Zacchæus, “chief among the publicans” (Luke 19:2), who tells Jesus, “Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor” (Luke 19:8).

Why the different treatment? Might the difference have something to do with the rich young man’s cavalier assertion that he keeps “the commandments” (Luke 18:20) “from [his] youth up” (Luke 18:21), which commandments include the perfect-day requirement to “love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all they mind” (Matthew 22:37)?

If we want the riches of heaven, then we must endure in genuine faith, but we do not have to give “every drop.” Jesus has to do that. If we have to do that, then no one is saved.

Moreover, Paul is not arguing that we have to suffer like Christ suffers to be saved. Paul is preaching to the Christians of his day that if they pursue Christ, then they will more than likely pass through suffering. Our passing through these trials demonstrates the genuineness of our faith, and the legitimacy of our choice for the righteousness available to us in Christ.

Hafen takes commandments of the perfect day, many of which are characterized by the word all, and attempts to make them part of the attainable standards of salvation. But the commandment to love God with all is an ideal whose purpose is to teach us, an unreachable height that guides our practice of righteousness, and a potent reminder that we can find the holiness and perfection we seek only in Christ.

All is an unattainable ideal demonstrated by Christ, not an attainable benchmark of discipleship.

Christ gives all. We may think we give all, but all we can do is come to Christ.

With regard to salvation, there is no symmetry in our relationship with the Lord Jesus, no exchange of value for value, only the stark asymmetry of a one-sided astonishing atonement whose blessings freely flow to us fallen, mortal beings based on a merciful framework of attainable conditions.

Hafen presses his wobbly premise:

So we must willingly give everything, because God Himself can’t make us grow against our will and without our full participation. Yet even when we utterly spend ourselves, we lack the power to create the perfection only God can complete. Our all by itself is still only almost enough—until it is finished by the all of Him who is the “finisher of our faith” (Hebrews 12:2; see also Moroni 6:4). At that point, our imperfect but consecrated almost is enough.

Hafen argues that we progress spiritually with “our full participation” until we are able to “give everything,” and that same “full participation” is so good, so effective, so righteous, that our “all” is “almost enough”!

How about that?

With all our will and effort, we can “almost” attain the divine, such that Jesus merely becomes the “‘finisher.’”

Jesus is not only the finisher, but also the starter and everything in between where the subject at hand is salvation.

Hafen concludes his address:

May we not shrink when we discover, paradoxically, how dear a price we must pay to receive what is, finally, a gift from Him. When the Savior’s all and our all come together, we will find not only forgiveness of sin, “we shall see him as he is,” and “we shall be like him” (Moroni 7:48; 1 John 3:2; emphasis added). …

What Hafen describes as a paradox is the confused, jumbled, legalistic assessment of a salvation that we realize, with the help of the Lord, through our own will and effort.

After we come to Jesus, endure in faith on his name, and he raises us up in eternal glory in a celestial resurrection, we will indeed “be like him” and “see him as he is …” (Moroni 7:48, 1 John 3:2). And we will know firsthand in that very moment the blessed asymmetry of salvation that will accrue to our everlasting benefit and happiness in the long day of eternity.

Paul K. Sybrowsky (“If Christ Had My Opportunities …,” October 2005) captures the essence of 2 Nephi 25:23 by purposely omitting its last part:

I know personally that our beloved Elder Neal A. Maxwell always sought to find the one. For, as Nephi, he labored “diligently to write, to persuade [all of us] to believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God” (2 Ne. 25:23). I know that Elder Maxwell made more than one call to those, even to the one, that he was trying to bring unto Christ.

Nevertheless, Sybrowsky does not escape his pedagogical burden by editing out what he should correlate, clarify, and expound.

Anthony D. Perkins (“The Great and Wonderful Love,” October 2006) correctly separates what Christ does from what we do, but mischaracterizes the latter by preaching the mistaken doctrine of best-efforts justification:

As you do your best to be obedient and repentant, you too can receive a place in the celestial kingdom through the Atonement and grace of Jesus Christ (See Titus 3:7; 1 Peter 5:10; 2 Nephi 2:6–8; 10:24–25; 25:23; Enos 1:27; Moroni 7:41; D&C 138:14).

The question is not if we do our “best,” but whether we come to Christ and endure in his attainable gospel. Few if any of us do our best all the time, if ever, which is why the best-efforts standard that Perkins uses to encourage us actually ends up condemning us. Ironically, Perkins inadvertently adds one more entry to his list of “snares” to avoid (“false inadequacy,” “exaggerated imperfection,” “needless guilt”).

None of the references Perkins cites support the doctrine of best efforts, but they definitely proclaim salvation by grace, and Moroni 7:41 runs parallel to a correct interpretation of 2 Nephi 25:23. Indeed, Perkins must wrest the last part of the most misinterpreted passage in the canon of the Restoration to sustain best-efforts justification.

Richard G. Scott (The Atonement Can Secure Your Peace and Happiness, October 2006) misunderstands the mechanics of atonement, and mistakes the perfect justice of heaven for atonement justice that mercifully exercises dominion over us fallen, mortal beings:

Each of us makes mistakes in life. They result in broken eternal laws. Justice is that part of Father in Heaven’s plan of happiness that maintains order. It is like gravity to a rock climber, ever present. It is a friend if eternal laws are observed. It responds to your detriment if they are ignored. Justice guarantees that you will receive the blessings you earn for obeying the laws of God. Justice also requires that every broken law be satisfied. When you obey the laws of God, you are blessed, but there is no additional credit earned that can be saved to satisfy the laws that you break. If not resolved, broken laws can cause your life to be miserable and would keep you from returning to God. Only the life, teachings, and particularly the Atonement of Jesus Christ can release you from this otherwise impossible predicament.

This explanation is legalism on parade (except, perhaps, for some of the last sentence).

The “mistakes” we make in life are water under the bridge. As children of the Fall, we are already under divine judgments arising from the perfect justice of heaven that take from us the hope of our first parents’ immortality, and condemn us to banishment in eternity from the light and love of God. The perfect justice of heaven cannot do anything else to us other than what it has already done because of the Fall.

Consequently, divine justice is not our friend, not until we can conform to its “eternal laws” (via celestial resurrection).

Scott continues:

The demands of justice for broken law can be satisfied through mercy, earned by your continual repentance and obedience to the laws of God. Such repentance and obedience are absolutely essential for the Atonement to work its complete miracle in your life. The Redeemer can settle your individual account with justice and grant forgiveness through the merciful path of your repentance. Through the Atonement you can live in a world where justice assures that you will retain what you earn by obedience. Through His mercy you can resolve the consequences of broken laws.

We have no debt to justice, the perfect justice of heaven. Jesus pays it all, for only he can do so (Alma 42:12, 15).

We have no “individual account with justice,” the perfect justice of heaven. Even if we did, there would be nothing we could do about it.

Moreover, the mercy of Christ does not pay, conditionally or otherwise, “our debt to justice when we repent and obey Him.” Mercy cannot rob justice (Alma 42:13, 25), remember? Both divine qualities can find their full expression only in Christ (Alma 42:15).

Scott presumes that we are capable of obeying “eternal laws” (literally, “God’s laws, the laws to which God himself conforms in eternity), and that the associated “blessings” accrue to us in a direct, causal sense because of our obedience.

Jesus makes atonement for us to subject us to himself (2 Nephi 2:10, D&C 19:2), and free us from the damning grasp of the perfect justice of heaven. Because of his atonement, we belong to him. Every good thing that we receive here and in eternity comes to us in him (Moroni 7:24).

Christ’s atonement changes the game.

Having satisfied perfect justice, Christ can mete out the blessings of his atonement to us in a manner and according to a framework to which fallen, mortal beings can adequately comply. His justice arises from the conditions of mercy (the “conditions of repentance,” shorthand for the attainable gospel, of Alma 42:13) he extends to us, an additional step that seals the acceptability of his sinless atonement to the perfect justice of heaven.

His justice, the justice of his gospel, operates differently from the perfect justice of heaven. This is why fallen, mortal beings, who have great difficulty obeying much of anything perfectly, can still find acceptance under the agreeable gospel of Jesus. This amazing result occurs for two primary reasons:

1. The principles of the attainable gospel are intangible—faith, repentance, enduring to the end, and so forth—and therefore spirit, not letter. Consequently, we can find a way to practice them that is acceptable to the Lord.
2. The ordinances of the attainable gospel, often referred to as the laws of the gospel, are the ideal repository for the otherwise intractable letter of the law. Remarkably, we comply with these laws by receiving the ordinances, not by perfecting executing our alleged letter-of-the-law obligations under the same.

As fallen, mortal beings we could not ask for a better arrangement.

Not surprisingly, after espousing the gospel of legalism, Scott also adopts the misguided notion of best-efforts justification:

… Our Master lived a perfect, sinless life and therefore was free from the demands of justice. He is perfect in every attribute, including love, compassion, patience, obedience, forgiveness, and humility. His mercy pays our debt to justice when we repent and obey Him. Since with even our best efforts to obey His teachings we will still fall short, because of His grace we will be “saved, after all we can do” (2 Nephi 25:23).

Jesus escapes the judgments of the Fall because he not only lives a “perfect, sinless life,” but also breaks free from the inherent condemnation attached to the full lineage of Adam and Eve. Jesus indeed has a mortal mother, but he is nevertheless divine because of his Father. The Lord, in effect, condescends from his throne, and comes into the fallen family line of our first parents. A sinless proxy, he makes atonement that not only satisfies the perfect, holy justice of heaven, but also confers upon him the power to elevate us to heaven after the manner of his own resurrection.

And, of course, Christ pays “our debt to justice,” the perfect justice of heaven, whether or not “we repent and obey Him.” We are in his hands now, and subject to the merciful framework of his gospel, which specifies that all but the sons of perdition—those who raise the sword against God after the similitude of the rebellious Lucifer—receive spiritual salvation to one degree or another (see D&C 76).

Everything we receive, however, comes to us directly because of Christ and his atonement.

Lastly, Scott presumes that our “best efforts” are required to receive a fullness of the grace of Christ, given that we are presumably saved “after all that we can do” (2 Nephi 25:23), and thereby falls prey to one of the common misinterpretations of Nephi’s almost universally misunderstood words.

Dieter F. Uchtdorf (Point of Safe Return, April 2007) presents a wonderfully conflicted and inherently inconsistent assessment of repentance:

It is not repentance per se that saves man. It is the blood of Jesus Christ that saves us. It is not by our sincere and honest change of behavior alone that we are saved, but “by grace that we are saved, after all we can do” (2 Nephi 25:23). True repentance, however, is the condition required so that God’s forgiveness can come into our lives. …

Uchtdorf ‘s first two sentences are a paragon of precision and truth. They bring to mind the Lord’s words to Adam (Moses 6:60) and Paul’s words to the Hebrews (Hebrews 9:12). Uchtdorf is properly recognizing that Christ is the true and only cause of salvation.

So whence cometh the egregious non sequitur of the third sentence?

Having correctly identified the sole source of salvation, Uchtdorf then does an abrupt, unwelcome about-face, and, as if paraphrasing Abinadi’s frequently misunderstood observation (Mosiah 13:28), argues that “our sincere and honest change of behavior,” in conjunction with the grace of Christ, does, in fact, save us.

So which is it?

The faulty interpretation of 2 Nephi 25:23 places the third sentence in obvious opposition to the other three, and there is no way to reconcile them.

We Latter-day Saints have long ceased to perceive this disharmony. We are blind to it. We have wrested 2 Nephi 25:23 for so long and with such untiring devotion that the gross deviation has become the standard. Like a mother who endures the incessant wailing of a bratty child, we do not even notice the astonishing dissonance anymore.

Claudio D. Zivic (After All We Can Do, October 2007) embraces the notion of all we can do as the daunting measure of the magnitude of our personal will and effort relative to our innate capacity.

He writes:

Nephi taught us clearly what we ought to do. He said, “For we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do” (2 Nephi 25:23).

I believe that the first thing we have to keep in mind in doing “all we can” is to repent of our sins. …

…

Another important principle to remember in doing “all we can do” is to look for and develop the opportunities that life within the gospel constantly offers us and recognize that the Lord has given us all that we have. …

Another thing that must be our permanent responsibility is to do “all we can do” to share the gospel of happiness with all mankind.

…

The final concept I want to share is that we should do “all we can do” until the end of our mortal probation.

I wonder if anyone in the restored church of Christ, or Christianity at large, finds any comfort whatsoever in the notion of measuring up to this standard of justification.

I wonder if Nephi ever questions the scriptural sanity of the multitudes who misinterpret his words, and do so with explanatory comments like, “Nephi taught us clearly what we ought to do.”

How “clearly” we miss the point.

Consider how blessed, encouraging, and doctrinally correct this address would have been had Zivic replaced the misinterpretation of “all we can do” (2 Nephi 25:23) with the directive to “believe in Christ, and … be reconciled to God …” (2 Nephi 25:23).

I do not criticize the thought that we should “repent of our sins,” “look for and develop the opportunities that life within the gospel constantly offers us,” or “recognize that the Lord has given us all that we have.” Rather, I question the interpretation that we must constantly realize our maximum potential “until the end of our mortal probation” in order to be saved.

No wonder so many faithful Latter-day Saints feel exhausted and burned out.

Jorge F. Zeballos (Attempting the Impossible, October 2009), referring to the Lord’s commandment to be perfect (3 Nephi 12:48), presents an unbearable, discouraging, and impossible paradigm of justification, and misunderstands the fundamental meaning of commandments of the perfect day (see Moroni 7:19-25).

After quoting King Benjamin, that “it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength,” and “it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize” (Mosiah 4:27), Zeballos offers this curious, nada que ver interpretation:

God will not require more than the best we can give because that would not be just, but neither can He accept less than that because that would not be just either. Therefore, let us always give the best we can in the service of God and our fellowmen. Let us serve in our families and in our callings in the Church in the best manner possible. Let us do the best we can and each day be a little better.

If King Benjamin had wanted to impart the doctrine of best efforts, then he would have said something like this:

And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent run as fast as he has strength, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order as well as possible.

Zeballos forgets that the perfect, infinite justice of God finds satisfaction only in the atoning sacrifice of Christ (Alma 42:15), which grants the Lord the autonomy to refashion the construct of justice within the amenable framework of his gospel (Alma 42:13), to which fallen, mortal beings like us can adequately and sufficiently comply.

Because of the intercession of Jesus, we are now subject to the parameters of his merciful gospel, with its incomprehensible rewards and mitigated punishments (see D&C 76), not the unmitigated, ruinous justice of a holy, perfect God.

The standard for us is not the “best we can give,” but whether or not we will freely come to the Son of God in the attainable path of his pleasant gospel.

Zeballos writes:

Salvation and eternal life would not be possible if it were not for the Atonement, brought about by our Savior, to whom we owe everything. But in order for these supreme blessings to be effective in our lives, we should first do our part, “for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do” (2 Nephi 25:23). Let us with faith, enthusiasm, dedication, responsibility, and love do all that is within our reach, and we will be doing all that is possible to achieve the impossible—that is, to achieve what for the human mind is impossible but with the divine intervention of our loving Father and the infinite sacrifice brought about by our Savior becomes the greatest gift, the most glorious of realities, to live forever with God and with our families.

There is little doubt that Zeballos interprets King Benjamin (and probably everything else) through the myopic lens of a wrested 2 Nephi 25:23. Like Uchtdorf, Zeballos correctly perceives that “we owe everything” to Jesus of Nazareth, only to then assert that “we should first do our part.”

The ideal of doing “all that is within our reach” is just that—an ideal that informs and guides our practice of the righteousness that demonstrates our choice to come to Christ. Fortunately, however, we can still fall short in living up to the ideal without forfeiting the highest blessings of the atonement.

The notion of “doing all that is possible to achieve the impossible” is a lofty target and and worthy goal as we deal with extraordinary exigencies and marvelous troubles that may come our way in our fallen, mortal existence, but this same notion fails miserably to properly comprehend salvation. We are better served by focusing on the Savior, and understanding that his function in the plan of salvation is to execute and realize the impossible, whereas our objective, in fact, is to perform the possible—our task is come to him.

Dallin H. Oaks (Two Lines of Communication, October 2010) continues to confuse and commingle elements of the attainable gospel of Christ with the impossible dictates of perfect-day covenants and commandments:

Because of what He accomplished by His atoning sacrifice, Jesus Christ has the power to prescribe the conditions we must fulfill to qualify for the blessings of His Atonement. That is why we have commandments and ordinances. That is why we make covenants. That is how we qualify for the promised blessings. They all come through the mercy and grace of the Holy One of Israel, “after all we can do” (2 Nephi 25:23).

Oaks proceeds to generally define the “conditions we must fulfill to qualify for the blessings” of the atonement of Christ.

Oaks does not differentiate attainable “commandments” from perfect-day “commandments,” or distinguish “commandments” from “ordinances.” Apparently we must obey all the “commandments” the same way we must receive all the applicable “ordinances.”

Oaks does not separate making (entering into) covenants from keeping covenants.

Oaks applies “all we can do” to the above regimen of commandment-, ordinance-, and covenant-keeping (or making), and partitions the salvation of the Lord into component parts, a sort of spiritual division of labor Adam Smith might recognize.

Stop for a moment and consider the startling fact that Jesus makes the same covenant we make at baptism. We covenant, among other things, to “stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places …” (Mosiah 18:9).  Nephi observes that by water baptism the Lord “witnesseth unto the Father that he would be obedient unto him in keeping his commandments” (2 Nephi 31:7).

Jesus sets the standard for covenant- and commandment-keeping, does he not?

Do we keep commandments like Jesus does?

Do we keep covenants like Jesus does?

Do you think Oaks really believes that he (or anyone else) measures up to that standard?

Is this the standard of performance by which we “qualify for the blessings” of the atonement?

For our sake, I hope not.

Can you discern the immense difference between the commandment to repent and be baptized, and the commandment to “stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places …” (Mosiah 18:9)?

Can you separate the commandment to believe in the Son of God (2 Nephi 25:23) from the commandment to be perfect (Matthew 5:48)?

Are they the same?

For Oaks, apparently, they are the same, and as long they are the same in the conventional wisdom of the restored church of Christ, we will continue to have difficulty understanding 2 Nephi 25:23 and comprehending the role of grace in the plan of salvation.

D. Todd Christofferson (The Divine Gift of Repentance, October 2011) is among those in the vanguard of General Authorities who believe and teach that 2 Nephi 25:23 sanctions the doctrine of Jesus making up the difference, the concept of a shared responsibility for salvation:

… It would mock the Savior’s suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane and on the cross for us to expect that He should transform us into angelic beings with no real effort on our part. Rather, we seek His grace to complement and reward our most diligent efforts (see 2 Nephi 25:23). …

For Christofferson, the grace of Jesus is insufficient (see the May 13, 2012 post, The Divine Gift of Repentance (Part 3)). We must lay a foundation and then build as much as we can before he can finish what we start, given that “we seek His grace to complement and reward our most diligent efforts.”

What Christofferson and others like him fail to realize is that “real effort on our part” in the plan of salvation functions to bring us to Christ so that he can save us.

The consummate irony here is that Christ does, in fact, raise us up—flawed, fallen, mortal beings who come to him—in a celestial resurrection in which we play no direct role in the future refashioning of ourselves to be able to endure and thrive in a celestial heaven (3 Nephi 28:36-40, Moroni 7:47-48, D&C 88:27-32, D&C 88:107).

Carl B. Cook (It Is Better to Look Up, October 2011) briefly refers to 2 Nephi 25:23, 26, but avoids the core message of these verses, and instead uses them to support the correct deduction that “prophets … lead us to God.”

David F. Evans (Was It Worth It? April 2012) expertly edits 2 Nephi 25:23, perhaps because he quietly questions its prevailing interpretation, and properly links it to 2 Nephi 25:26:

“We labor diligently … to persuade our children … to believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God. …

“… We talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins” (2 Nephi 25:23, 26).

Although Evans captures the essence of these verses, he adeptly avoids the intimidating task of interpreting the last part of 2 Nephi 25:23: “[F]or we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do.”

Evans is, if nothing else, a clever doctrinal tactician.

I do not fault him for that, but rather his clear (perhaps wise) evasion of the totality of 2 Nephi 25:23.

This concludes a brief review of the 34 General Conference addresses, and none of them—0 of 34—precisely and completely, correctly and comprehensively, expound 2 Nephi 25:23.

Perhaps I should give Robert L. Backman the credit he deserves, and come to a tally of 1 of 34.

His sermon, appropriately entitled “Jesus the Christ,” stands out from the rest. Backman leaves his peers in the dust with regard to the singular role of Christ in the procurement of our salvation, and our relative position with respect to our Lord and Savior in the plan of salvation.

Backman approvingly pairs 2 Nephi 25:23 with Ephesians 2:8-9. In this remarkable feat, he stands alone.

The only issues I take with him in his entire sermon are that he does not (1) explicitly connect “believe in Christ, and … be reconciled to God” with “all we can do” (2 Nephi 25:23), and thereby relate “through faith” (Ephesians 2:8) to “all we can do” (2 Nephi 25:23), and (2) clarify the perfect-day elements of C.S. Lewis’ wonderful quote about giving all of ourselves to Christ.

But the fact is that Backman knows Jesus in much the same way that believing non-Mormon Christians know him.

Christ helps us, but with regard to our salvation, he is not our Helper, Motivator, Assistant, or Enabler.

He is our Savior, our Lord, and our God.

This is the Jesus of the New Testament.

This is the Jesus of the restored gospel.

Back to the questions at the beginning of this post:

1. Why does Nephi write? Does he write to implore his people to save themselves? Does he write to instruct his people to do their best or do all they can do to save themselves? Why does he write?
2. Does Nephi argue that we are saved by what we do? Does he assert that what we do saves us? Does he allege that what we do directly and causally produces to any degree whatsoever our own salvation?
3. Does Nephi teach that we are saved by anything other than grace? Does Nephi devote his words solely to explain how we are saved, or does he both explain how we are saved and, like his father (Lehi) and brother (Jacob) define when we are saved (or lay claim to the hope of salvation)?

If we let Nephi define himself, then here are the answers he either explicitly or implicitly gives to these questions:

1. Nephi writes to “persuade” us to “believe in Christ, and … be reconciled to God.”
2. Nephi writes to “persuade” us to “believe in Christ, and … be reconciled to God” because Jesus is the only one who can save us fallen, mortal beings.
3. Nephi writes to “persuade” us to “believe in Christ, and … be reconciled to God” because, if Jesus is the only one who can save us fallen, mortal beings and we depend entirely on him for our salvation, then “all we can do” is come to him so that we can be saved by his grace.

Nephi plainly understands who saves us.

Do we?

Nephi understands that if we are not saved by grace, then we are not saved at all.

There are two separate and distinct divisions of responsibility in the plan of salvation.

Jesus, the divine Son of God, is responsible for one, and we fallen, mortal beings are responsible for the other.

In the aftermath of the Fall, the sinless Savior passes through the atoning pain of condescension, and the fiery foundry of the wrath of God. Jesus acquires, through the selfless offering of his own spirit and body, the unassailable and unimpeachable power of salvation. By atonement, the Lord endures the punishment for the Fall and all our subsequent sins, and obtains the unquestionable prerogative to elevate us to his stature and perfection. Having satisfied the infinite demands of holy, divine justice, Jesus instructs us how to come him to receive a fullness of his mercy, grace, and salvation.

We fall, by virtue of our collective pre-mortal choice, executed by our first parents in Eden, and, now far enough away from the indisputable presence of God, demonstrate by the free exercise of our agency what we truly want. We choose whether or not to come to Christ in the attainable path of his gospel.

Our task is not to save ourselves as much as we are able to do so, an objective we cannot achieve, but to choose to come to Christ. We establish the legitimacy of this choice over the course of one short lifetime (or the similarly short sojourn in the pre-resurrection spirit world).

What Christ does and what we do are entirely separate and distinct in the plan of salvation.

We must clearly and plainly distinguish what Jesus does from what we do, or we will never properly understand Nephi, and never appreciate, grasp, or comprehend the precious grace of Christ about which Nephi writes.

Step back for a moment and consider the entirety of 2 Nephi 25. There is nothing in this chapter of the Book of Mormon that lends support to the notion that we directly participate in realizing our own salvation. Rather, the central focus of this chapter is Christ.

Nephi foresees the day when the Jews, among others, will “be persuaded to believe in Christ, the Son of God …” (2 Nephi 25:16). Nephi describes the atonement as “infinite for all mankind” (2 Nephi 25:16), which suggests that it is enough, all by itself, to intercede on our behalf, and provide Jesus the power to elevate us to heaven. Nephi refers to the account of Moses raising up a “serpent” to “heal the nations after they had been bitten by the poisonous serpents, if they would cast their eyes unto the serpent …” (2 Nephi 25:20). Nephi testitifes that “as the Lord God liveth, there is none other name given under heaven save it be this Jesus Christ … whereby man can be saved” (2 Nephi 25:20).

After explaining these things, Nephi records the most misunderstood passage in the canon of the Restoration, along with his additional commentary about Christ.

For we labor diligently to write, to persuade our children, and also our brethren, to believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God; for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do (2 Nephi 25:23).

We are saved by “grace,” which is why “all we can do” is “believe in Christ, and … be reconciled to God.”

And, notwithstanding we believe in Christ, we keep the law of Moses, and look forward with steadfastness unto Christ, until the law shall be fulfilled.

For, for this end was the law given; wherefore the law hath become dead unto us, and we are made alive in Christ because of our faith; yet we keep the law because of the commandments (2 Nephi 25:24-25).

Nephi does not argue that his people are saved by their obedience to the law of Moses. He acknowledges that “the law hath become dead unto us … yet we keep the law because of the commandments.” Nephi understands that people of all ages, if they are to be saved, “are made alive in Christ because of [their] faith.”

And we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins (2 Nephi 25:26).

If, in fact, we can eliminate our own sins and realize our own salvation insofar as we are able to do so, then why do our names not appear alongside the name of Christ in this verse?

If, in fact, we directly realize our own salvation insofar as we are able to do so, then there is a verse missing in the concluding portion of 2 Nephi 25 that should go something like this:

And we talk of doing all we can do, we rejoice in doing all we can do, we preach of doing all we can do, we prophesy of doing all we can do, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to look to themselves to do all they can do for a remission of their sins.

The irony is that we Latter-day Saints spend at least as much time preaching the above fictional verse as we spend preaching the real one.

Wherefore, we speak concerning the law that our children may know the deadness of the law; and they, by knowing the deadness of the law, may look forward unto that life which is in Christ, and know for what end the law was given. And after the law is fulfilled in Christ, that they need not harden their hearts against him when the law ought to be done away (2 Nephi 25:27).

Nephi’s assessment of the “deadness of the law” of Moses (reminiscent of Paul’s comments about the same in his epistle to the Hebrews) raises an important question: Why is there no “life” in the law of Moses?

The simple answer is that our obedience to law—any law—cannot save us. In the words of Lehi, “by the law no flesh is justified …” (2 Nephi 2:5). We are fallen, mortal beings already under sentence. Although we can do many things, we cannot save ourselves.

Nephi’s understanding of the law of Moses raises another important question: If the Lord creates an arduous, cumbersome framework of laws and performances whose ostensible outward meaning and actual purpose bear no apparent resemblance to one another, then might the Lord not employ a similar scheme in the formulation of the principles and ordinances, commandments and covenants of his gospel?

For many, even those among the General Authorities of the restored church of Christ, might the outward letter and symbol likewise mask the inward spirit and substance of the gospel, despite the advantageous plainness of the mission of Christ in our collective rearview mirror?

Might some (or many) members of the restored church of Christ still easily fall prey to legalistic, contractual appraisals of salvation?

And now behold, my people, ye are a stiffnecked people; wherefore, I have spoken plainly unto you, that ye cannot misunderstand. And the words which I have spoken shall stand as a testimony against you; for they are sufficient to teach any man the right way; for the right way is to believe in Christ and deny him not; for by denying him ye also deny the prophets and the law (2 Nephi 25:28).

What is the “right way”?

Perfect compliance with the law of Moses?

Perfect compliance with the teachings of Christ?

Doing all we can do to do whatever it is we think we can do?

No, no, no.

The “right way” is to “believe in Christ and deny him not.”

And now behold, I say unto you that the right way is to believe in Christ, and deny him not; and Christ is the Holy One of Israel; wherefore ye must bow down before him, and worship him with all your might, mind, and strength, and your whole soul; and if ye do this ye shall in nowise be cast out (2 Nephi 25:29).

Why does Nephi not argue that “the right way is to believe in Christ” and do all we can do ourselves to enhance, strengthen, and increase our own righteousness? Why does Nephi return to the singular, summarizing directive to “believe in Christ”? Where is the allegedly coequal component of our salvation, all we can do, in this verse?

Nephi tell us to worship Christ with “all [our] might, mind, and strength, and [our] whole soul.” Do you recognize this requirement? It is the subtle perfect-day rendering of the attainable “believe in Christ, and … be reconciled to God” (2 Nephi 25:23). The fact that Nephi restates his urgent proposal in the language of the commandments of the perfect day reaffirms his desire for us to come to Christ.

Why is Nephi not concerned in this verse with our doing all we can do to make ourselves better?

Why is Nephi not preoccupied in this verse with our fixing ourselves spiritually?

Why is Nephi not obsessing in this verse about our overcoming our own shortcomings, working out our own salvation, and doing all we can do to save ourselves?

Everything in this verse suggests that Nephi wants us to come to Christ—given that we are to “bow down before him,” and “worship him,”—for the simple reason that only Christ can save us.

In other words, Nephi understands the difference between what Christ does and what we do.

Given the surrounding context of the most misinterpreted verse in the canon of the Restoration, how can we honestly, objectively, and reasonably conclude that what Christ does and what we do are coequal components of salvation?

How can we believe that what we do plays a direct role in saving us?

How can we insist that what we do helps rescind the judgments decreed against us at the Fall, cleanse ourselves from sin, and elevate us to heaven?

How can we argue that Christ can only finish what we begin if we do all we can do to save ourselves first?

In each of the seven verses (2 Nephi 25:23-29) beginning with verse 23, Nephi tells us, in one way or another, to believe in Christ.

The command to believe in Christ is not a call to commingle what Christ does with what we do to achieve salvation.

The command to believe in Christ is not the establishment of an unattainable perfect-day standard of justification.

The command to believe in Christ is a convenient summary of the attainable gospel by which we come to Christ.

And, inasmuch as it shall be expedient, ye must keep the performances and ordinances of God until the law shall be fulfilled which was given unto Moses (2 Nephi 25:30).

Everything we do in the gospel we do to come to Christ. Even the central purpose of the law of Moses is to point us to Christ. From the very beginning, the Lord distinguishes between what he does and what we do (Moses 6:60). Nephi valiantly continues this tradition, if we will just open our eyes and see it.

For a more comprehensive discussion of the redeeming grace of Jesus, see Chapter 4: Distinguishing the Cause from the Conditions, Chapter 8: Saved by Grace, Chapter 10: By Condescension or by Contract?, Chapter 11: The Commandments of the Perfect Day, and Chapter 12: The Attainable Standards of Salvation in the book Redeeming Grace in the Canon of the Restoration (Amazon CreateSpace and Kindle).

Thanks Be to God

I devote this post to a translation of certain portions of the April 1, 2012 General Conference address, Thanks Be to God, given by Russell M. Nelson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Elder Nelson:

The attributes by which we shall be judged one day are all spiritual. These include love, virtue, integrity, compassion, and service to others. Your spirit, coupled with and housed in your body, is able to develop and manifest these attributes in ways that are vital to your eternal progression. Spiritual progress is attained through the steps of faith, repentance, baptism, the gift of the Holy Ghost, and enduring to the end, including the endowment and sealing ordinances of the holy temple.

Translation:

What does the definitively Mormon phrase eternal progression really mean?

Does it mean that—over decades, centuries, millennia, spans of time so large they have no name to us—we get progressively better, smarter, holier, more perfect, more important, more accomplished?

These relative concepts seem to be grounded in the inherent constraints of fallen, mortal experience.

What, exactly, is eternal progression?

If the Lord’s apparent use and ownership of certain divine words is any indication (D&C 19:4-12), then perhaps eternal progression means something entirely different from what we think it means.

If eternal life is God’s life, then what is eternal progression?

Does our practice of “love, virtue, integrity, compassion, and service to others,” together with our “faith, repentance, baptism, the gift of the Holy Ghost, and enduring to the end, including the endowment and sealing ordinances of the holy temple,” constitute part of our eternal progression?

Moreover, if we have already risen from the dead in a particular resurrection before we are “judged,” and if we are indeed judged by our post-resurrection “attributes,” then whose attributes do we possess at the time of our official examination before the bar of God?

If we rise in a resurrection of glory, then how much of who we used to be, in a mortal, fallen sense, remains?

I like the concept of eternal progression, but only the kind implied by D&C 19:4-12, not the variety germane to mortal processes and limitations and comfortable with the conventional wisdom of us Latter-day Saints.

Born Again

I devote this post to examine how General Conference addresses in the restored church of Christ since 1971 define and use the theologically important phrase born again (you can find all 57 sermons at lds.org).

My purpose is to determine how many of the 57 addresses explain being born again the same way the scriptures define and use it.

If you are a Latter-day Saint, do you know what being born again is?

(If you are a non-Mormon Christian, then I expect you already know the correct answer from your study of the New Testament.)

Fifty-three General Conference addresses either do not conform to the canon of the Restoration with regard to the doctrine of being born again, or do not specifically define that important phrase—

Sterling W. Sill (Great Experiences, April 1971) believes that he can be born again repeatedly. He writes: “I discovered that I could be reborn as many times as I desired, and that each time I could be reborn better.” I imagine that mothers everywhere are glad this assertion does not hold true with regard to physical birth.

Bruce R. McConkie (The Lord’s People Receive Revelation, April 1971) associates being born again with receiving revelation through the gift of the Holy Ghost via the ordinance of confirmation.

John H. Vandenberg (“Turn Heavenward Our Eyes,” October 1971) quotes the Lord’s commandment to Adam to be “born again” (Moses 6:59), but does not comment on it.

Eldred G. Smith (Why Do Latter-day Saints Build Temples? October 1972) quotes the Lord’s words to Nicodemus, “Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God” (John 3:3), but does not distinguish this spiritual rebirth from the required ordinances of baptism and confirmation.

Bernard P. Brockbank (Entrance into the Kingdom of God, October 1972) also quotes the Lord’s words to Nicodemus (John 3:3), but, like Eldred G. Smith, seems to conflate spiritual rebirth with the outward ordinances.

Franklin D. Richards (The Continuing Power of the Holy Ghost, April 1973) quotes the Lord’s words to Nicodemus: “That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.  Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye must be born again” (John 3:6-7), but mistakes the inward act of being born again with the outward ordinances of baptism and the laying on of hands for the gift of the Holy Ghost. Elder Richards writes that “[f]aith in the Lord Jesus Christ, repentance, and baptism by water are prerequisites to receiving the Holy Ghost.”

Boyd K. Packer (Behold Your Little Ones, April 1973) clearly associates being born again with water baptism. He writes: “When we come out of the water, it is like being born again, and we are clean.”

Sterling W. Sill (Birth, April 1975) reiterates his previous contention of multiple spiritual rebirths. He writes that “no one is limited to merely two births,” “we can be born again as many times as we please,” and “each time we can be born better.” He does, however, correctly glimpse the potential power of the highest resurrection, the consummate bestowal of redeeming grace foreshadowed by the experience of being born again: “And if we live as we should, then on some future Easter morning, we may be born again into his presence to live with him in the celestial kingdom throughout eternity.”

Marion D. Hanks (You, Too, Must Know, October 1975) writes that “Jesus is the Christ, and … through him the penitent can be born again,” and refers to Alma’s recollection of his own born-again experience (Alma 36), but does not comment on what it means.

Marion G. Romney (According to the Covenants, October 1975) mistakes being converted with being born again. He writes: “While conversion may be accomplished in stages, one is not really converted in the full sense of the term unless and until he is at heart a new person. Born again is the scriptural term.” Romney considers being born again as a condition achieved at the end of a process of conversion.

John H. Vandenberg (To Cleanse Our Souls, October 1975) again quotes the Lord’s commandment to Adam to be “born again” (Moses 6:59), and again fails to explain what it means.

President Spencer W. Kimball (Seeking Eternal Riches, April 1976) teaches that we “must be born again and again in order to know the full course of human happiness,” but creatively uses the phrase born again to refer to the natural progression of mortal life, not spiritual rebirth (“When the first baby is born, a mother is born and a father is born and grandparents are born.”).

Marion G. Romney (The Light of Christ, April 1977), referring to the Lord’s conversation with Nicodemus (John 3:1-10), explains that “[o]ne is born again by actually receiving and experiencing the light and power inherent in the gift of the Holy Ghost,” and therefore, having earlier distinguished the Holy Ghost from the gift of the Holy Ghost, plainly equates being born again with the outward ordinance of confirmation.

Bruce R. McConkie (The Ten Blessings of the Priesthood, October 1977) argues that being born again is a blessing that comes to “[t]hose who magnify their callings in the priesthood.”  He writes that they “are born again; they become new creatures of the Holy Ghost; they are alive in Christ.” McConkie asserts that to be “sanctified by the Spirit unto the renewing of their bodies” via the priesthood covenant (D&C 84:33) is to be born again.

Ezra Taft Benson (“May the Kingdom of God Go Forth,” April 1978) equates the Lord’s statement to Nicodemus, “Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God” (John 3:3), with “guidance and inspiration of the Holy Ghost,” without which “there will be some who will see nothing more to the progress of the Church than a social curiosity.”

James E. Faust (The Refiner’s fire, April 1979) associates being born again with the refiner’s fire of “cruel and hard” circumstances like those faced by the famed Martin Handcart Company crossing the plains in late summer. He writes: “In our extremities, it is possible to become born again, born anew, renewed in heart and spirit.” He equates being born again as the result of a “trial of faith,” a process, and observes that “[t]rials and adversity can be preparatory to becoming born anew.”

Bruce R. McConkie (The Coming Tests and Trials and Glory, April 1980), commenting on the difficult day ahead, gets the sequence right, but not specify what he means by being born again. He writes: “Amid it all believing souls are born again, their souls are sanctified by the power of the Spirit, and they prepare themselves to dwell with God and Christ and holy beings in the eternal kingdom.”

Marion G. Romney (The Book of Mormon, April 1980) uses the phrase born again without defining it. He writes: “We must obtain a continuing supply of this water [a reference to the Lord’s words to the woman of Samaria at the well in John 4:14] if we are to resist evil and retain the blessings of being born again.”

Marion G. Romney (“Except a Man Be Born Again,” October 1981) equates being born again with a “process of divine revelation.” He quotes the dialogue between Jesus and Nicodemus (John 3:2-6), and concludes from it that to be born again is to “know God the Eternal Father and Jesus Christ, whom he has sent” via revelation in the same way the apostles know the Lord.

Mark E. Petersen (Believers and Doers, October 1982), quoting Alma’s born-again experience (Mosiah 27:25-26), includes it in a laundry list of actions we do to develop “within our own selves the very traits of character which make [Christ] what He is.” Petersen observes: “In it all, and above all, we need to develop Chirstlike hearts. We must have a change deep within us.”

F. Burton Howard (Repentance, April 1983) views being born again as the result of a process of repentance. After describing a 24-year-old who loses his way in the church, Howard explains that “repentance is not a free gift,” “is not for the fainthearted or the lazy,” and “requires a complete turning away from wrongdoing and a set of new works or doings which produce a new heart and a different man.” Howard concludes his address with the observation: “By repenting, my young friend became a new person. He was born again of the Spirit.”

Ezra Taft Benson (What Manner of Men Ought We to Be? October 1983) teaches that to be born again is to “become like Jesus Christ” and “emulate His way of life in our lives,” and then explains that we “must be “‘born again’ (John 3:3) and put aside worldly lusts and former behavior unsuited to the Christlike character.”

Bruce R. McConkie (What Think Ye of the Book of Mormon, October 1983) asserts the doctrinal superiority of the Book of Mormon over the Old and New Testaments, and argues that “Alma’s sermons on faith and on being born again surpass anything in the Bible,” which is quite remarkable, given the apparent difficulty we Latter-day Saints have understanding what being again actually means. The Book of Mormon is the strongest proponent of the Bible (1 Nephi 13:35-39), which includes the writings of Paul, who, by displacement or disregard, is one of our favorite targets in the restored church of Christ.

Ezra Taft Benson (Born of God, October 1985) directly addresses the subject of being born again. Quoting former President McKay, Benson agrees that being born again is a “‘changed feeling’” that “‘is real,’” but then associates it with applying the teachings of Jesus to our daily lives, and “‘an entire revolution’” of the “‘inner man,’” a “‘fundamental and permanent change’” of our ongoing “‘thinking, feeling, and acting with reference to spiritual things.’” Quoting former President Kimball, Benson equates being born again with “‘a transformation.’” He distinguishes being born again spiritually from the “physical ordinance of baptism and the laying on of hands,” but then separates the “change of heart” from being “born again,” and describes them as “processes.” Benson ends his address with this critical ordering of events: “May we be convinced that Jesus is the Christ, choose to follow Him, be changed for Him, captained by Him, consumed in Him, and born again …”

President Ezra Taft Benson (Cleansing the Inner Vessel, April 1986) refers to Marion G. Romney’s earlier indefinite statement about being born again (The Book of Mormon, April 1980).

WM. Grant Bangerter (What It Means to Be a Saint, April 1987) confuses being born with an outward covenant like baptism by which we take upon ourselves the name of Christ, and explains: “If, then, we understand that we are born again, having taken upon us the name of Christ, the big question is: Do we act like it?” (The question is valid, even if the definition of being born again is not.)

President Ezra Taft Benson (The Book of Mormon and the Doctrine and Covenants, April 1987) briefly refers to Alma’s message to the members of the church in Zarahemla “about being born again and the need for them to experience a ‘mighty change’ in their hearts,” but does not elaborate further on what it is.

James M. Paramore (Seek the Blessing of the Church, April 1988) correctly relates the story of the born-again experience of Alma (Mosiah 27:24-26), but then explains that the “Church is necessary to help us to change our lives, to become new creatures.”

Robert E. Sackley (A More Excellent Way, October 1988) explains that to be born again is to be “totally converted to the gospel of Jesus Christ” and do “all that we can to fulfill those covenants we make in becoming His disciples,” and then illustrates this point with the born-again experience of Alma, son of Alma (Mosiah 27:24-26).

Hartman Rector, Jr. (The Resurrection, October 1990) teaches that we are born again when we receive “the laying on of hands of an elder of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints at the same time we are received into the Church,” and cites three passages of scripture that do not support this conclusion (John 1:12, Ether 3:14, Alma 5:49).

David B. Haight (Linking the Family of Man, April 1991) fails to distinguish being born again (John 3:3) from receiving the ordinances of water baptism and confirmation (John 3:5), and uses the dialogue between Jesus and Nicodemus to defend proxy baptism for the dead in the temples of the Restoration (I take no issue with the necessity of ordinance work on behalf of the dead).

Charles Didier (Testimony, October 1991) refers to Alma’s command to be born again (Alma 5:49), but does not define the expression, and only mentions the concept to demonstrate that because Alma has a “testimony,” he shares it with others.

J. Richard Clarke (The Lord of Life, April 1993), referring to John 3:1-10, observes that the “intellectual Nicodemus was impressed with the miracles of Jesus; but even with extensive knowledge of the scriptures, he could not grasp the doctrine of spiritual rebirth, the transformation of the human soul, what is means to be born again.” Clarke testifies that “through Jesus Christ we can be born again. We can change. We can change completely. And we can stay changed.” Clarke does not precisely define being born again, but his added references to changing “completely” and remaining “changed” clearly allude to a process view of spiritual rebirth.

Russell M. Nelson (Children of the Covenant, April 1995) equates acceptance of the gospel and water baptism with being born again. He writes: “When we embrace the gospel and are baptized, we are born again and take upon ourselves the sacred name of Jesus Christ.”

Russell M. Nelson (Perfection Pending, October 1995) teaches the importance of ordinances in the gospel, and refers in his Footnote 28 to the words of the Prophet Joseph: “Being born again, comes by the Spirit of God through ordinances.” Although this statement seems to settle the issue, and inseparably join the experience of being born again to the ordinances of salvation, the Prophet Joseph has more to say on the matter, and the Book of Mormon he translates provides the definitive and decisive commentary on this important doctrine. I address the substance of the Prophet Joseph’s comments on being born again in the book Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith after this summary of conference addresses.

Joseph B. Wirthlin (Christians in Belief and Action, October 1996) equates being born again with the ordinances of water baptism and confirmation. He writes: “The Savior commanded that we all must be born again: ‘Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God’” (John 3:5).

James E. Faust (“Search Me, O God, and Know My Heart,” April 1998) teaches that being born again comes from covenants and ordinances. Like Russel M. Nelson, Faust quotes the Prophet Joseph: “‘Being born again, comes by the Spirit of God through ordinances.’” Faust further teaches that “[c]ovenants are not simply outward rituals; they are real and effective means of change.”

Dallin H. Oaks (Have you Been Saved? April 1998) fails to distinguish the substance of John 3:3 from the symbols of John 3:5, mistakes being born again for entering into “a covenant relationship with our Savior by being born of water and of the Spirit and by taking upon us the name of Jesus Christ,” and erroneously quotes Alma’s born-again experience as support (Mosiah 27, Alma 36) for this conclusion. Oaks reaffirms his thesis by declaring that our “covenant relationship with our Savior puts us in that ‘saved’ or ‘born again’ condition [one alleged non-Mormon-Christian appraisal of justification] …”

Carol B. Thomas (Spiritual Power of Our Baptism, April 1999) writes that “[b]aptism is our spiritual rebirth.”

James E. Faust (What It Means to Be a Daughter of God, October 1999) correctly teaches that “[t]o be a daughter of God also means that you have been born again,” but does not explain the meaning of this experience other than to refer to the words the Lord tells the born-again Alma (Mosiah 27:25).

Dallin H. Oaks (The Challenge to Become, October 2000) correctly sets up his explanation of being born again by calling it an “introductory experience the scriptures call being ‘born again,’” but then falls back into the view that we undergo spiritual rebirth in “the waters of baptism and by receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost,” and calls on Mosiah 27:25, Alma 5:49, and 1 Peter 1:23 for support where they have none to give.

James E. Faust (Born Again, April 2001) equates being born again with the ordinances of water baptism and confirmation, fails to distinguish the inward substance of John 3:3 from the outward symbol John 3:5, and concludes his address by fusing the two concepts, such that we are “born again of the water and of the Spirit through baptism and receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost.” Faust is undoubtedly paraphrasing the Lord’s explanation to Adam:

… [I]nasmuch as ye were born into the world by water, and blood, and the spirit, which I have made, and so became of dust a living soul, even so 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; … (Moses 6:59).

This is the only use of the phrase born again in the canon of the Restoration that seems to apply to the ordinances, given that we “must be born again into the kingdom of heaven, of water, and of the Spirit.” Are there indeed only two steps (born again of water, born again of the Spirit) in the Lord’s instructions to Adam, or are there actually three steps (born again, born of water, born of the Spirit)?

In the unique case of Adam, the first man, there is a reason the Lord associates being born again with the ordinances of water baptism and confirmation.

He establishes his metaphor of choice for spiritual awakening—physical birth, a confluence of water, blood, and spirit—and then follows the pattern of this metaphor in his explanation of spiritual awakening—a symbolic confluence of water (the commandment of water baptism), blood (the saving and sanctifying blood of Christ), and spirit (the justifying Spirit of God, inwardly received by being born again, and outwardly received in the ordinance of the laying on of hands for the gift of the Holy Ghost).

After hearing and believing, Adam “[cries] unto the Lord” (Moses 6:64) and is born again, just like Alma cries out to the Lord and is born again, and just like we must cry in faith unto the Lord and be born again.

But Adam’s born-again experience is realized amid a unique, otherworldly, astonishing administration of the ordinances of salvation.

Adam, the first man, is “caught away by the Spirit of the Lord,” “carried down into the water,” “laid under the water,” and “brought forth out of the water” (Moses 6:64). The “Spirit of God” descends upon Adam and he is “born of the Spirit” and becomes “quickened in the inner man” (Moses 6:65). A voice from heaven declares: “Thou art baptized with fire, and with the Holy Ghost” (Moses 6:66).

Faithful Adam is born again, his spiritual awakening triggered by crying unto the Lord in faith (just like ours is), but realized amid a supernatural regimen of ordinances that blurs the line between the inward substance and outward symbol. Indeed, the substance and symbol merge together as Adam receives the “Spirit of God” and is simultaneously “born of the Spirit” and “quickened in the inner man.”

Some of us are indeed born again through faith at the time of our symbolic receipt of the gift of the Holy Ghost via the ordinance of confirmation. But I daresay that most of us are not. Alma, son of Alma, is likely born again well after his receipt of the ordinances. If Nicodemus truly becomes a disciple of Jesus, then the faithful Pharisee is likely born again before his receipt of the ordinances, since the learned man must first see before he will have the desire to enter.

Henry B. Eyring (True Friends, April 2002) speaks of being born again as the desired eventual result of our walk with the Lord in this life. Eyring writes that “in time we can become an example of a disciple who is born again through the Atonement,” a process that “may be gradual,” “hard for us to discern in ourselves,” yet still “real.”

Dale E. Miller (Bringing Peace and Healing to Your Soul, October 2004) equates the born-again experience with conversion. He explains that “[c]onversion does not normally come all at once, even though the scriptures give us dramatic accounts,” but rather “comes in stages, until a person becomes at heart a new person.”

Russell M. Nelson (Jesus Christ—the Master Healer, October 2005) sets forth the sequence of events that marks our path to the Lord. Nelson places them in this order: (1) faith, (2) repentance, (3) baptism, (4) testimony, and (5) enduring conversion. He writes that “[c]onversion includes repentance and obedience,” and conversion “brings a mighty change of heart,” the point at which a “true convert is ‘born again.’”

Russell M. Nelson (Repentance and Conversion, April 2007) explains that to “repent fully is to convert completely to the Lord Jesus Christ and His holy work.” Nelson further explains that to “repent fully” and “convert completely” occur when we are born again, “converted and focused upon our journey to the kingdom of God.”

David A. Bednar (Ye Must Be Born Again, April 2007), more than any of his peers in the governing quorums of the restored church of Christ, proclaims the alleged process of being born again. He writes that repentance and the ordinance and covenant of baptism, among other worthwhile endeavors, are “the first basic steps in the process of being born again.” He explains that we “are born again as we are absorbed by and in the gospel of Jesus Christ …” Referring to the miraculous born-again experience of the people of King Benjamin, Bednar argues that the “spiritual rebirth described in this verse [Mosiah 5:7] typically does not occur quickly or all at once; it is an ongoing process—not a single event,” despite the fact that every one of King Benjamin’s subjects (except young children) experiences the transcendent, singular experience of spiritual rebirth. Bednar declares several times that being born again is a “process.” He contends that we are “progressively … purified and sanctified as [we] are washed in the blood of the Lamb … born again, and receive the ordinances and honor the covenants that are administered by the authority of the Melchizedek Priesthood.” Bednar insists that “[p]urifying and sealing by the Holy Spirit of Promise constitute the culminating steps in the process of being born again.” After erroneously citing Alma 5:49 to support his process view of spiritual rebirth, Bednar concludes his address by avowing that “[t]hrough faith in Christ, we can be spiritually prepared and cleansed from sin, immersed in and saturated with His gospel, and purified and sealed by the Holy Spirit of Promise—even born again,” which conclusively places spiritual rebirth at the end of an arduous, lengthy, and holy quest for the divine.

David A. Bednar (Clean Hands and a Pure Heart, October 2007) again equates being born again with our “spiritual journey.” He writes that “as we are born again and strive to always have [the Lord’s] Spirit to be with us, the Holy Ghost sanctifies and refines our souls as if by fire …” Bednar explains that the objective of the process of being born again is for us to “stand spotless before God.”

Russell M. Nelson (Salvation and Exaltation, April 2008) teaches that being born again, like salvation, is an “individual matter,” but does not define being born again.

D. Todd Christofferson (Born Again, April 2008) focuses on being born again as receiving the initial ordinances of salvation, and does not distinguish the inward substance (John 3:3) from the outward symbol (John 3:5).  He refers to the compelling born-again experiences of the people of King Benjamin (Mosiah 4-5) and Alma (Mosiah 27, Alma 36), and accurately observes that “spiritual rebirth originates with faith in Jesus Christ, by whose grace we are changed,” but then remarkably teaches that, after we come to Christ in the path of the gateway ordinances of salvation, fully rely on Christ, and, like Adam, are ‘quickened in the inner man’ (Moses 6:65), if we are “not yet fully born again,” then we are “certainly well into the path of spiritual rebirth.” Christofferson alleges that “[b]eing born again, unlike our physical birth, is more a process than an event,” and “engaging in that process is the central purpose of mortality.”

Dieter F. Uchtdorf (The Love of God, October 2009) equates being born again with our continuing walk of discipleship, in which we “become more pure and holy.”

Francisco J. Viñas (Things Pertaining to Righteousness, April 2010) understands the Lord’s command to be born again (Mosiah 27:25) as entailing our “conversion to the truth, and adherence to the principles of righteousness.”

C. Scott Grow (The Miracle of the Atonement, April 2011) observes that his brother “chose to repent, to conform his life to the teachings of the Savior, and to literally be born again through the power of the Atonement,” the blessed result of this series of events.

Four General Conference addresses—that is correct, four, 4 of 57, four in more than 40 years of preaching from the pulpit in General Conference—conform to the canon of the Restoration with regard to the doctrine of being born again—

L. Tom Perry (“When Thou Art Converted, Strengthen Thy Brethren,” October 1974) quotes the marvelous born-again experience of Alma, son of Alma (Mosiah 27), associates being born again with being converted, and presciently acknowledges that “conversion is not an end, but a beginning of a new way of life.” Although conversion is broader than the experience of being born again, L. Tom Perry correctly perceives that being born again is indeed “a beginning of a new way of life.” Bravo.

L. Tom Perry (The Kingdom of God, April 1979) again refers to Alma’s born-again experience (Mosiah 27), and observes: “Alma’s life was changed. From this time forth the scriptures record that he went forth not to destroy the Church, but now to build it up, and he became a mighty leader in this land.” Again, I say, Bravo.

L. Tom Perry (“Serve God Acceptably with Reverence and Godly Fear,” October 1990) returns to the theme of being born again, quotes for a third time Alma’s born-again experience (Mosiah 27), and observes that “Alma was born again. He was a new creature. His heart had changed.” Perry writes that “Alma’s experience had enabled him to understand the glory of God and also ‘godly fear.’” For a third time, I say, Bravo!

Perry is not known as a preeminent theologian, yet he does not confuse, mix up, or distort the experience of being born again. Unlike many of his peers, Perry does not explain the text away, dismiss the plain meaning of words, or wrest the language of the canon to conform to the prevailing conventional wisdom. He remains true to the text (Mosiah 27) in his explanation of the doctrine of being born again.

Keith B. McMullin (The Power of the Aaronic Priesthood, October 2011) understands the doctrine of being born again, the spiritual rebirth, perhaps more than anyone else who refers to this doctrine in General Conference since 1971. McMullin stands alone in his precise, scripturally correct explanation of being born again, a teaching he directs to the youth of the Aaronic priesthood.

Take note of the striking contrast to the other addresses that I cite in this post (except those by L. Tom Perry) in the following excerpt with regard to being born again:

What can a deacon, teacher, or priest do to receive the spirit of revelation and magnify his calling? He can live so as to enjoy the cleansing, sanctifying, and illuminating power of the Holy Ghost.

The importance of this is found in these words from Alma: “Now I say unto you that this is the order after which I am called, … to preach unto … the rising generation … that they must repent and be born again.” When one is born again, his heart is changed. He has no appetite for things evil or unclean. He feels a deep and abiding love for God. He wants to be good, to serve others, and to keep the commandments.

President Joseph F. Smith described his experience with this mighty change: “The feeling that came upon me was that of pure peace, of love and of light. I felt in my soul that if I had sinned … it had been forgiven me; that I was indeed cleansed from sin; my heart was touched and I felt that I would not injure the smallest insect beneath my feet. I felt as though I wanted to do good everywhere to everybody and to everything. I felt a newness of life, a newness of desire to do that which was right. There was not one particle of desire for evil left in my soul. I was but a little boy, it is true, … but this was the influence that came upon me, and I know that it was from God, and was and ever has been a living witness to me of my acceptance of the Lord.”

So we call upon you wonderful young brethren to diligently strive to be “born again.” Pray for this mighty change in your life. Study the scriptures. Desire more than all else to know God and to become like His holy Son. …

McMullin carefully separates the born-again experience of the young Joseph F. Smith from his receipt of the ordinance of water baptism, which he receives as “a little boy” immediately before his inward spiritual rebirth. McMullin encourages all the youth of the Aaronic priesthood, who have already received the ordinance of water baptism, to “pray for this mighty change [and] … [d]esire more than all else to know God.”

McMullin, perhaps without realizing it, is confronting the compounded mistakes of an echo chamber of error within the popular consciousness of the Latter-day Saints. He is shouting from the rooftops that all of us must want to find and know God, and that we must be born again like Alma as a young man, President Joseph F. Smith as “a little boy,” and others in the Book of Mormon—Nephi, son of Lehi (1 Nephi 2:16), the people of King Benjamin (Mosiah 4:1-3, Mosiah 5:2-4), King Lamoni (Alma 18:40-42, Alma 19:6), along with his wife (Alma 19:12-13, 29-31), household (Alma 19:33-34), father (Alma 22:15-18), his household (Alma 22:23), about 300 would-be murderers of Nephi and Lehi, sons of Helaman (Helaman 5:42-45, 50-52), and Mormon himself (Mormon 1:15)—who are born again.

McMullin is arguing that they are not the exception.

They are the rule.

If we never have the desire to genuinely and sincerely cry unto the Lord, then we will never know God.

We can go through the motions. We can immerse ourselves in the so-called process of the gospel, but unless and until we cry unto the Lord and receive our own personal witness that there is a God who loves us, we will never begin the inward spiritual journey that leads to heaven.

Being born again does not mean that we no longer make mistakes, stumble, or even fall.

Being born again is not the culmination of a lifetime of self-purification and devotion.

Being born again does not mean that we become completely Christlike.

Being born again is the beginning of our spiritual walk of discipleship with the Lord, not the end of that journey.

Being born again is our first personal witness of the goodness and reality of the Lord that transcends the natural world and all of its wisdom.

We are born again when we seek the Lord for the first time, in sincerity and genuine desire, and he answers us, regardless of whether we have received any or all of the ordinances of salvation, or entered into any or all of the covenants of the restored gospel of Christ.

Jesus does not make a mistake where he employs physical birth as a metaphor for spiritual awakening. We make a mistake where we convert being born again into a long slog whose itinerary calls for our expert arrival at a destination we can never reach by force of our own will and effort.

Believing non-Mormon Christians (not posers) know the initiatory experience of being born again, even if they are not yet members of the restored church of Christ.

Do we?

What they lack is the complete set of the attainable standards of salvation (and the authority to administer them), which includes the ordinances the Lord places in the strait and narrow path that leads to him.

We are the alleged keepers of these truths and the associated authority, so how do we explain the fact that we do not understand what being born again is?

There are three statements by the Prophet Joseph in Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith that contain the phrase born again—

Under the heading Every Man an Agent for Himself (p. 10):

Every man lives for himself. Adam was made to open the way of the world, and for dressing the garden. Noah was born to save seed of everything, when the earth was washed of its wickedness by the flood; and the Son of God came into the world to redeem it from the fall. But except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. This eternal truth settles the question of all men’s religion. A man may be saved, after the judgment, in the terrestrial kingdom, or in the telestial kingdom, but he can never see the celestial kingdom of God, without being born of water and the Spirit … [and] … unless he becomes as a little child, and is taught by the Spirit of God. (emphasis added)

In the first reference (p. 10), the Prophet Joseph, subtly referring to the dialogue between Jesus and Nicodemus (John 3:3, 5), employs the word see twice, where Jesus uses two words, see (John 3:3) and enter (John 3:5). The Prophet Joseph is intent on proving that the ordinances of baptism and the laying on of hands for the gift of the Holy Ghost are a prerequisite for our entry into the highest heaven (“the celestial kingdom of God”), and does not address the important distinction between being born again to see, and being “born of water and the Spirit” to enter, the “kingdom of God,” the celestial heaven.

There is no question that Jesus distinguishes between being “born again” and being “born of water and the Spirit” because the Lord uses two different verbs, see and enter, to describe the distinct results of a differentiated pairing of actions.

Nicodemus is a man consumed by the law of Moses. This faithful Pharisee can understand his acceptance by God and eventual inheritance in heaven only in terms of the outward letter of that law. But Jesus tells Nicodemus that he must be “born again” to see heaven, the heaven made accessible to us only through the Son of God. Nicodemus must be “born again” to understand the hidden spiritual realities underpinning the law of Moses, or he cannot escape the legalistic boundaries of the letter that law, or comprehend who is speaking with him.

Why would Nicodemus ever think beyond the exterior of the law of Moses if he could not see past it? He must be “born again” to see heaven (and the one who prepares it for him) before he will have any desire to enter heaven via the prescribed portal of the ordinances of salvation.

The Prophet Joseph does not address the distinction between being “born again” (see) and being “born of water and the Spirit” (enter) in his statement, although he does recognize that we must be “taught by the Spirit of God.” We can only be “taught by the Spirit of God” if we are “born again.” Otherwise, the gospel takes on no more meaning and significance than any other intellectual subject of substance that speaks to our mind but not our spirit.

Under the heading Angels Do Not Have Wings (p. 162):

Being born again, comes by the Spirit of God through ordinances. An angel of God never has wings. … (emphasis added)

The first sentence of the above paragraph is remarkably out of place, given the subject matter that precedes and follows it. I wonder if the person in charge of recording this teaching got it right. Regardless, this isolated sentence—quoted by Russell M. Nelson and James E. Faust—is not exactly the ideal foundation on which to base the argument that to be born again is to receive the ordinances of salvation.

The Prophet Joseph is acknowledging the importance of the ordinances of salvation, not disregarding the important difference between being “born again” (John 3:3) and being “born of water and of the Spirit” (John 3:5), even if he says in a compressed one-sentence summary (encompassed about by ideas having nothing to do with spiritual rebirth) that being “born again … comes by the Spirit of God through ordinances.”

The ordinances of salvation are the outward performances and symbols of the inward performance and substance of being born again (and later rising in the celestial resurrection), which conclusion is entirely supported by the Book of Mormon, a book the Prophet Joseph describes as “the most correct of any book on earth” (p. 194).

Under the heading Man Must Be Born Again (p. 264):

Nicodemus came to Jesus by night, and said unto him, Rabbi, we know that thou art a teacher come from God: for no man can do these miracles that thou doest, except God be with him. Jesus answered and said unto him, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again he cannot see the kingdom of God. Nicodemus saith unto him. How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter the second time into his mother’s womb and be born?~Jesus answered, Verily, verily I say unto thee. Except a man be born of water, and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God. This strong and positive answer of Jesus, as to water baptism, settles the question: If God is the same yesterday, today, and forever: it is no wonder He is so positive in the great declaration: He that believes and is baptized shall be saved, and he that believes not shall be damned! … (emphasis added)

This time, the Prophet Joseph distinguishes between the see of being “born again” and the enter of being “born of water, and of the Spirit,” but again focuses, as before, on the necessity of the ordinances of salvation. “This strong and positive answer of Jesus,” the Prophet Joseph explains, “as to water baptism,” (emphasis added) “settles the question … He that believes and is baptized shall be saved, and he that believes not shall be damned!”

The Prophet Joseph is not arguing that being “born again” is the same as being “born of water.” The Book of Mormon, which the Prophet Joseph calls the “keystone of our religion” (p. 194), never equates the two. He is arguing that “water baptism” is a vital and necessary prerequisite to our entrance into the “kingdom of God.”

Even the Index and Concordance of Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith applies the prevailing bias to being born again, given that the related entry includes page 360, wherein the Prophet Joseph discusses the ordinances of baptism, but never employs the phrase born again.

I leave it to you to discern if the Prophet Joseph really believes that the transcendent experience of being born again resides in the outward ordinances of the gospel, our gradual walk of discipleship and incremental improvement on a fallen, mortal scale, or the actual acquisition of a Christlike character, contrary to the compelling references in the Book of Mormon to the critical defining moment of faith that ushers in our first spiritual experience, as God reveals himself to us.

The Prophet Joseph knows this watershed experience as well as any anyone. As a fourteen-year-old boy (who has not received any of the ordinances of salvation), young Joseph retires to the woods to pray for the first time, and is born again. In response to his petition of faith, he comes to know God in a deeply personal and intimate way through a sublime vision that marks the beginning, not the end, of the young man’s spiritual journey.

The critical distinction between the inward substance of John 3:3 and outward symbol of John 3:5 is subtly apparent yet readily manifest in the superlative account of spiritual rebirth in the Book of Mormon—the born-again experience of Alma, son of Alma.

Alma grows up as the son of the high priest of the church of God. Alma’s friends are the privileged sons of King Mosiah. Alma undoubtedly has access to the best of everything, from expert instruction in the law of Moses and the gospel of Christ, to education and training in the temporal affairs of the kingdom.

There is little question that Alma, likely as a child of sufficient age, receives the outward, symbolic ordinances of water baptism and the gift of the Holy Ghost by the laying on of hands. Moreover, there is little doubt that Alma knows firsthand the spiritual power that attends the person and preaching of his father.

But for whatever reason, the young Alma, accompanied by the wayward sons of Mosiah, chooses iniquity, and resists the Spirit of God.

Unlike Saul of Tarsus, who believes that he furthers the Lord’s work by persecuting the Christian heretics, unbelieving Alma knows exactly what he is doing as he goes about seeking to destroy the church and otherwise rebelling against God.

Struck down by an angel, Alma endures an out-of-body experience with the pains and punishment of hell, completely apart from the light and love of God.

Alma, recalling this harrowing experience, writes:

And it came to pass that as I was thus racked with torment, while I was harrowed up by the memory of my many sins, behold, I remembered also to have heard my father prophesy unto the people concerning the coming of one Jesus Christ, a Son of God, to atone for the sins of the world.

Now, as my mind caught hold upon this thought, I cried within my heart: O Jesus, thou Son of God, have mercy on me, who am in the gall of bitterness, and am encircled about by the everlasting chains of death (Alma 36:17-18).

Forced to confront the inescapable reality of good and evil, and the heavy burden of his misspent and wasted years, Alma does what fallen, mortal beings must do if we want to be saved in the kingdom of God. With a sense of urgency and genuine purpose, Alma utters the most impassioned, sincere sentence of his life: “O Jesus, thou Son of God, have mercy on me, who am in the gall of bitterness, and am encircled about by the everlasting chains of death.”

Alma continues:

And now, behold, when I thought this, I could remember my pains no more; yea, I was harrowed up by the memory of my sins no more.

And oh, what joy, and what marvelous light I did behold; yea, my soul was filled with joy as exceeding as was my pain!

Yea, I say unto you, my son, that there could be nothing so exquisite and so bitter as were my pains. Yea, and again I say unto you, my son, that on the other hand, there can be nothing so exquisite and sweet as was my joy.

Yea, methought I saw, even as our father Lehi saw, God sitting upon his throne, surrounded with numberless concourses of angels, in the attitude of singing and praising their God; yea, and my soul did long to be there (Alma 36:19-22).

In plain confirmation of the words of Jesus to Nicodemus (“[E]xcept a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God”), born-again Alma sees heaven, “the kingdom of God.”

Alma explains that because of his supernatural experience he is “born of the Spirit” (Mosiah 27:24), “born of God” (Alma 36:23), and “born of God” and “filled with the Holy Ghost” (Alma 36:24).

The Lord tells Alma that we “must be born again … born of God, changed from [our] carnal and fallen state, to a state of righteousness, being redeemed of God, becoming his sons and daughters” (Mosiah 27:25), “become new creatures” (Mosiah 27:26) and that “unless [we] do this, [we] can in nowise inherit the kingdom of God” (Mosiah 27:26).

In the verses above, “born of the Spirit,” “born of God,” and “born again” refer directly to the inward substance of spiritual rebirth. Indeed, if we have the symbols of the ordinances, but not the substance of spiritual rebirth, we will not “inherit the kingdom of God.”

Although born of the Spirit can refer to either the inward substance of spiritual rebirth or the outer symbol of the laying on of hands for the gift of the Holy Ghost (Alma says that he is “born of the Spirit”; Jesus uses the phrase “born of water and of the Spirit” to describe the ordinances of salvation, given the pairing of “water” and “Spirit”), born again most directly refers to the inward substance of spiritual rebirth, the mighty change of heart that occurs from spiritual awakening, which is why Jesus distinguishes being “born again” (John 3:3) from being “born of water and of the Spirit” (John 3:5).

Ultimately, we must both experience the inward substance and receive the outward symbols if we want salvation. We must first “see the kingdom of God” (John 3:3) in order to “enter into the kingdom of God” (John 3:5).

We may not, like Alma, either suffer the pains of hell or gain an explicit vision of heaven during our mortal sojourn, but when we are born again, like Alma, we gain sublime, intimate knowledge of the goodness of God, and we catch a glimpse of heaven. Indeed, when we are born again, we see the kingdom of God for the first time.

The Lord plainly tells us that we must be born again like Alma is born again. We must cry unto the Lord in faith to open the eyes of our spiritual understanding and see what truly is.

Alma’s inward born-again experience is separate and distinct from his receipt of the outward ordinances of salvation. Adam’s inward born-again experience coincides with his receipt of the outward ordinances of salvation.

I suspect that most of us are more like Alma than Adam. Consequently, unless we distinguish the substance from the symbol, we will not seek the former because we will mistake it for the latter.

Being born again is the dramatic turning point to which Elder L. Tom Perry correctly and consistently refers without distortion in his three General Conference addresses, assessments vastly superior to those offered by his contemporaries and fellow members of the governing quorums of the restored church of Christ.

Being born again is the vital supernatural experience that Keith B. McMullin—the least of the General Authorities of the restored church of Christ (all the way down at the bottom right-hand corner of the hierarchal organization chart)—alone correctly describes, defines, and teaches in General Conference after more than 40 years of mischaracterization, misunderstanding, and misinterpretation.

I am pleasantly surprised and frankly overjoyed that someone among the General Authorities of the restored church of Christ has finally freed the captive construct of being born again from the legalistic bonds of the outward letter of the gospel, and the interminable, hopeless, defective notion of an impossible process that somewhere a long, long way off in the infinite horizon terminates in a salvation that we acquire for ourselves through our own enabled will and effort.

Better late than never.

We Latter-day Saints have some catching-up to do.

For a more comprehensive discussion of how the uniquely Mormon scriptures define being born again, study the canon of the Restoration, and see Chapter 12: The Attainable Standards of Salvation in the book Redeeming Grace in the Canon of the Restoration (Amazon CreateSpace and Kindle).

Was It Worth It?

I devote this post to a translation of certain portions of the April 1, 2012 General Conference address, Was It Worth It? given by Elder David A. Evans of the First Quorum of the Seventy of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Elder Evans:

… Within our homes we should follow the pattern given by Nephi when he said:

“We labor diligently … to persuade our children … to believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God. …

“… We talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins” (2 Nephi 25:23, 26).

Translation:

I am pleasantly surprised and very much intrigued by Elder Evans’ selective editing of 2 Nephi 25:23, and his concatenation of the most misinterpreted verse in the canon of the Restoration to one of the most messianic, 2 Nephi 25:26.

Given the way we mistakenly interpret 2 Nephi 25:23, Elder Evans rightly omits its concluding statement, “[F]or we know that it is be grace that we are saved, after all we can do.” I suspect that he carefully trims Nephi because the erroneous commingling of what we do and what Jesus does gets in the way of the plain and precise invitation to come to Christ.

I take it that Elder Evans has no particular desire to teach his children that they must meet Jesus halfway (or somewhere else) along the road that leads to salvation. I infer that Elder Evans is not an enthusiastic proponent of the doctrine of best efforts. I speculate that, deep down, he does not believe in a shared, cooperatively realized salvation.

What is remarkable about his constructed quotation is how closely it now resembles Ephesians 2:8-9.

What is significant about his address is how carefully it avoids the language of legalism.

Stripped of impossibly ponderous baggage, the message of Jesus becomes beautiful, brings hope, and makes us whole again.

This is the Jesus of 2 Nephi 25:23-26, rightly interpreted.

This is the Jesus I teach my children.

This is the Jesus to whom we come to receive a fullness of grace and salvation.

This is the Jesus whom we approach through agency on the pleasant path of the attainable gospel.

This is the Jesus who saves us by condescension, not contract.

Perhaps someone in the Seventy knows the same Jesus I know.

For a more comprehensive discussion of the Jesus who saves us, the Jesus of the Restoration, see Chapter 4: Distinguishing the Cause from the Conditions and Chapter 8: Saved by Grace in the book Redeeming Grace in the Canon of the Restoration (Amazon CreateSpace and Kindle).