The Year in Review

Seasons Greetings.

I devote the final post of my first year to a brief recap of Mormon Redeeming Grace.

This year I have applied the doctrines of atonement and grace—plain and precious doctrines of the Mormon canon exhaustively explained in the book Redeeming Grace in the Canon of the Restoration—to prominent addresses and articles, old and new, in the restored church of Christ, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

I have done so, not as another disaffected malcontent, but in the role of an exasperated believer to demonstrate the considerable disconnect between the pulpit and the canon with regard to matters of soteriology, the study of salvation.

We Latter-day Saints should not be forced to choose between the pulpit and the canon. The fact that we are routinely put in this position is a testament to (1) a pervasive ignorance of the saving doctrines of the scriptures in the conventional wisdom and popular consciousness of the church, and (2) the crushing hold legalism exerts on the otherwise inspired intelligentsia and duly authorized servants of God, which crippling paradigm restricts the expansive parameters of the atonement and ignores the role of redeeming grace in the plan of salvation.

Legalism, the notion that we ascend by virtue of our individual mastery of the divine to heavenly realms, permeates the restored church of Christ.

Legalism obstinately holds to the outward facade of the letter and doggedly refuses to comprehend the spirit.

Legalism figuratively appraises the literal and literally appraises the figurative.

Legalism redefines, reinterprets, and reinvents the plain language of scripture and by so doing almost entirely prevents us from asking the right questions or proceeding from the right premises.

Legalism is much more comfortable with the cause-and-effect mechanisms of ephemeral earthly processes and institutions than the eternal sources and methods of the divine.

Legalism is a fragile house of cards that can endure only as long as misperceiving, misguided, and misunderstanding members of the governing quorums and rank-and-file bodies of the church insist on upholding the flawed model.

I have not yet discovered legalism’s genesis in the history of the Restoration, but the willfully embraced malady has been with us for at least 40 years. Someday the distracting house of cards will collapse, and the Restoration will fare much better in the aftermath of the welcome and long-overdue fall.

A layman contemplating the grandeur of the universe, I believe in God.

A disciple in view of the empty tomb, I believe in Christ.

A student of the word of God, I believe in the Prophet Joseph and the Restoration.

Years ago as I read, studied, and pondered the scriptures, I began to see the divergence of the pulpit from the canon. The more I tried to reconcile the discrepancy, the more I saw it, hidden in plain sight, unseen by eyes that should see, unfathomed by hearts that should know, and unacknowledged by minds that should comprehend.

And therein lies the cure to what collectively ails us and unduly separates us from more effectively understanding our own soteriology and speaking the language of Christianity. Unlike the House Republicans, let us Latter-day Saints get our message straight.

If you are one of the few members of the church who read this blog, then I want to make you uncomfortable. I want to drive you back to the canon of the Restoration and cause you to reconcile it with the pulpit, one person—one Matrix moment, one Allegory of the Cave epiphany, one born-again interpretational awakening—at a time until there is no more soteriological disagreement.

To this end, I write this obscure blog. I write the same thing in a hundred different ways, because at least one of my approaches will finally get through to you, just as the light ultimately dawned on me as I pondered the doctrines of salvation in our scriptures.

If you think that I am just another offended detractor, then judge. The proof, as they say, is in the pudding. Judge what you hear, read, and believe by the infallible standard of the canon of the Restoration.

The church will probably always have its dissidents, but what the church always needs is members who know the scriptures.

Be one.

Take the red pill.

This is not about the validity of the Restoration, the legitimacy of the members of the governing quorums of the restored church of Christ, the proper direction and leadership of the kingdom of God on earth, or a host of other important but irrelevant subjects.

This is about the plain meaning of the words in the canon of the Restoration.

The church of Christ has often struggled with one doctrine or another. In this generation, we struggle with the core doctrines of atonement and grace.

Many find the notion unthinkable that a disparity might ever exist between the pulpit and the canon. These individuals defer their own understanding to the leadership of the church. (God selects the leaders he wants, and invariably condones and upholds everything they say.)

Some are too busy and distracted to notice. (Who cares about doctrine? I have money to make, bills to pay, vacations to plan, children to discipline, calming meds to take.)

A few embrace willful doctrinal schizophrenia. (Let someone else reconcile the myriad of incompatible interpretations. That is not my responsibility.)

Fine.

Do what you want.

As for my part, I am determined to start a fire—not the destructive fire of an arsonist, anarchist, or pyromaniac—but a bonfire, a signal fire because I am right (or rather, the writers of the canon of the Restoration are right).

If someone writes a blog that nobody reads, does it matter?

That remains to be seen.

Oh, heaven let your light shine down.

Merry Christmas.

Now, where did I put the matches?

What to Give Christ for Christmas

In response to the hypothetical question What can we give the Savior? I offer one suggestion that is consistent with the beautiful message of redeeming grace in the canon of the Restoration—

Before we concern ourselves with attempts to give something back to Jesus, perhaps we should first recognize that, given our particular standing as fallen, mortal beings, all we can do is choose to receive his gift.

Then, perhaps, we can proceed from there (wherever there is).

The Lord explains:

For what doth it profit a man if a gift is bestowed upon him, and he receive not the gift? Behold, he rejoices not in that which is given unto him, neither rejoices in him who is the giver of the gift. (D&C 88:33)

The positive restatement of this sentiment might be expressed like this:

What doth it profit a man if a gift is bestowed upon him, and he receive the gift! Behold, he rejoices in that which is given unto him, and rejoices in him who is the giver of the gift.

Of the 36 verses in the Book of Mormon that contain the word gift or one of its forms, how many do you suppose approve of the notion of our attempt to reciprocate and give gifts to the Lord?

Even well-intentioned legalism will not dampen my Christmas.

Redeeming Grace and the 16 Stones

I devote this post to the remarkable hidden metaphor of redeeming grace in the account of the brother of Jared and the 16 stones.

Here is the relevant excerpt from the Book of Ether:

And he cried again unto the Lord saying: … I have prepared the vessels for my people, and behold there is no light in them. Behold, O Lord, wilt thou suffer that we shall cross this great water in darkness?

And the Lord said unto the brother of Jared: What will ye that I should do that ye may have light in your vessels? For behold, ye cannot have windows, for they will be dashed in pieces; neither shall ye take fire with you, for ye shall not go by the light of fire.

…

And behold, I prepare you against these things; for ye cannot cross this great deep save I prepare you against the waves of the sea, and the winds which have gone forth, and the floods which shall come. Therefore what will ye that I should prepare for you that ye may have light when ye are swallowed up in the depths of the sea?

And it came to pass that the brother of Jared, (now the number of the vessels which had been prepared was eight) went forth unto the mount, which they called the mount Shelem, because of its exceeding height, and did molten out of a rock sixteen small stones; and they were white and clear, even as transparent glass; and he did carry them in his hands upon the top of the mount, and cried again unto the Lord, saying:

… Now behold, O Lord, and do not be angry with thy servant because of his weakness before thee; for we know that thou art holy and dwellest in the heavens, and that we are unworthy before thee; because of the fall our natures have become evil continually; nevertheless, O Lord, thou hast given us a commandment that we must call upon thee, that from thee we may receive according to our desires.

…

And I know, O Lord, that thou hast all power, and can do whatsoever thou wilt for the benefit of man; therefore touch these stones, O Lord, with thy finger, and prepare them that they may shine forth in darkness; and they shall shine forth unto us in the vessels which we have prepared, that we may have light while we shall cross the sea.

Behold, O Lord, thou canst do this. We know that thou art able to show forth great power, which looks small unto the understanding of men. (Ether 2:22-23, 25; Ether 3:1-2, 4-5; emphasis added)

We Latter-day Saints know this story.

Under the guidance of heaven, the brother of Jared, along with close family and friends, is preparing to travel from the Old World to the promised land of the Americas. The problem is that the eight barges, the “vessels” for the trip, are pitch black inside.

The Lord has prohibited the use of windows and fire, so the brother of Jared is very much in the dark.

What to do?

He decides to venture up “the mount Shelem” and “molten out of a rock sixteen small stones” that are “white and clear, even as transparent glass.” He takes the 16 stones to the summit of Shelem, calls on the Lord, and asks him to touch the stones so that they “may shine forth in darkness.”

The Lord approves the proposal, touches the stones, and the problem is solved.

Now, what is going on theologically behind this narrative?

Like many Latter-day Saints, I recently attended a Gospel Doctrine class in which we discussed the story of the brother of Jared and the 16 stones. The well-prepared instructor cited a quotation that caught my attention. Here is the source material from Chapter 50: Ether 1-5 of the Book of Mormon Student Manual (2009):

• The Lord wants us to grow and learn as we make our own decisions. He also wants us to take our conclusions to Him frequently for His confirmation. When the brother of Jared asked the Lord about the matter of light for the vessels, the Lord answered with a question of His own: “What will ye that I should do that ye may have light in your vessels?” (Ether 2:23). According to President Harold B. Lee (1899–1973), the Lord’s question was similar to saying the following:

“‘Well, have you any good ideas? What would you suggest that we should do in order to have light?’ …

“Then the Lord went away and left him alone. It was as though the Lord were saying to him, ‘Look, I gave you a mind to think with, and I gave you agency to use it. Now you do all you can to help yourself with this problem; and then, after you’ve done all you can, I’ll step in to help you.’”

After considering the possibilities, the brother of Jared demonstrated his great faith by asking the Lord to touch 16 stones and supply light. The Lord answered this plea and not only provided light for the vessels but gave this faithful man a vision unlike any other.

President Lee concluded: “This is the principle in action. If you want the blessing, don’t just kneel down and pray about it. Prepare yourselves in every conceivable way you can in order to make yourselves worthy to receive the blessing you seek” (Stand Ye in Holy Places [1974], 243–44).

According to President Lee, the Lord wants the brother of Jared to “do all [he] can to help [himself].” Once he has done all he can, the Lord will “step in to help” the brother of Jared.

President Lee is not alone in this interpretation. In the Book of Mormon Student Manual’s very next entry, there is a quotation from Elder McConkie, who very much agrees with President Lee and goes even further:

• Elder Bruce R. McConkie (1915–85) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles explained that the Lord requires us to use our agency as we seek His help. Regarding the brother of Jared’s experience, Elder McConkie said: “The Lord talked to him about it a little and then he said this: ‘What will ye that I should do that ye may have light in your vessels?’ (Ether 2:23.) In effect, ‘What are you asking me for? This is something you should have solved.’ And he talked a little more, and he repeated in essence the question: ‘What will ye that I should prepare for you that ye may have light when ye are swallowed up in the depths of the sea?’ (Ether 2:25.) In other words, ‘Moriancumer, this is your problem. Why are you troubling me? I’ve given you your agency; you are endowed with capacity and ability. Get out and solve the problem’” (“Agency or Inspiration?” New Era, Jan. 1975, 40–41).

According to Elder McConkie, the same Lord who provides or approves the plans and specifications for the construction of the barges (Ether 2:16), which plans and specifications the brother of Jared faithfully executes, informs him that the lack of light “is [his] problem.” McConkie argues that the brother of Jared is “endowed with capacity and ability” and therefore should be able to “solve the problem” himself.

Great.

From President Lee we get another erroneous appraisal of 2 Nephi 25:23, the most misinterpreted passage in the canon of the Restoration, which pervasive wresting has been with us for at least 40 years, and from Elder McConkie we get a healthy dose of so-called spiritual self-reliance.

Are these explanations truly compatible with the story of the brother of Jared and the 16 stones?

Do all you can do, after which the Lord fixes it?

Or, if you prefer—

Just do it yourself?

These two explanations sound an awful lot like the gospel we routinely preach today.

Put yourself in the shoes of the brother of Jared. You go into the barge, shut the door (or hatch, or whatever), and you are in absolute darkness, a total blackout.

You say to yourself, “I know how I can help solve this problem. I will carefully prepare some very shiny, translucent stones, and maybe they will help me see a little better.”

Is this how the brother of Jared does all he can do to solve the problem?

Is this how the brother of Jared actually solves the problem?

What do you think? Do your shiny rocks bring any light to the darkness? Does your alleged solution do anything at all to illuminate the deathly gloom?

The brother of Jared might as well bring his shoe to the Lord, or a lump of coal, or a chicken, because all these solutions, along with a handful of sparkling diamonds, fail equally badly. They all have at least one thing in common—they do absolutely nothing to solve, in a direct and casual sense, the problem.

Might the brother of Jared know something that President Lee and Elder McConkie do not mention or otherwise marginalize?

What is the remarkable hidden meaning of redeeming grace and salvation in the account of the brother of Jared and the 16 stones?

The Lord expressly forbids the brother of Jared from using the works of his hands or his efforts to provide the requisite light.

What might this imply with regard to salvation?

Might this not propose that the works of our hands and the efforts of fallen, mortal beings are useless with regard to the successful completion of our itinerary to heaven?

Might we not find ourselves in most unusual circumstances in fallen mortality, which circumstances, by nature, not only grant us true freedom, but also strip from us any and all ability to effectively confront and overcome the monumental problems of the Fall and its aftermath of sin and imperfection?

The brother of Jared recognizes the immanent futility of his own works. Where he comes with the 16 stones before the Lord, the brother of Jared declares: “[W]e know that thou art holy and dwellest in the heavens, and that we are unworthy before thee; because of the fall our natures have become evil continually.”

He acknowledges that he is “unworthy” by virtue of “the fall.” He is inherently, intrinsically, innately unable to solve this problem. Moreover, the brother of Jared does not pretend that he contributes in any way to the ultimate solution to this problem.

The enlightened man does, however, avail himself of the one thing that fallen, mortal beings can do: “O Lord, thou hast given us a commandment that we must call upon thee, that from thee we may receive according to our desires.”

What do you want, brother of Jared?

What do we want, fallen, mortal beings?

Do we want the righteousness of heaven provided for us in the Son of God, or do we want something else?

The brother of Jared takes his meager but meaningful offering of otherwise useless faith and places it before the Lord. By so doing, the wise man demonstrates what he wants.

And in like manner, so do we.

What a pleasing, glorious illustration of the redeeming grace of Jesus!

The Lord—not the brother of Jared, not fallen, mortal human beings and the sum total of all our ingenuity, resourcefulness, and talent—the Lord God of Israel, alone, unaided, reaches out and gives light, divine light, the light of redeeming grace to us, if that is what we want.

The brother of Jared testifies: “O Lord, thou canst do this.” The brother of Jared knows how to distinguish the cause of salvation from the conditions on which it comes to fallen, mortal beings.

Should we not do the same?

The brother of Jared can build seaworthy barges (Ether 2:16-18) and provide for their ventilation (Ether 2:19-20). Were these two examples applicable to the matter of redemption, then they would effectively argue for the shared burden of salvation that regularly sounds from the pulpits of the Restoration.

Only in the miraculous provision of light do we find an apt metaphor for our salvation in Christ.

We can with heaven’s help build all the earthly barges we want and in them put as many holes as we desire, but if we want eternal life, then we must come, according to the word of the Lord, with an offering of faith to him, for only he possesses the infinite offering of that most valuable of all gifts.

What is the soteriological meaning of the account of the brother of Jared and the 16 stones?

Come to Christ and find salvation in him.

For a more comprehensive discussion of the roles of the Savior and us in the plan of salvation, see Chapter 4: Distinguishing the Cause from the Conditions in the book Redeeming Grace in the Canon of the Restoration (Amazon CreateSpace and Kindle).

A Baptismal Talk for Sydney

I devote this post to memorialize the talk given by my daughter Sydney at her baptism on November 10, 2012.

Sydney, always remember the astonishing tree of life, the preeminent symbol of redeeming grace in the canon of the Restoration.

Here is the complete text:

In the Book of Mormon, we have Lehi’s account of his vision of the tree of life. Please note, however, that the tree Lehi sees is not the tree of life in Eden, but another tree of the same name, which tree God plants outside Eden so that the tree can be available to everyone who is a fallen, mortal being. This second tree of life, whose fruit is “most sweet” (1 Nephi 8:11), is actually very different from the first tree of life, whose fruit is bitter.

But that is the subject for another talk. What is important now is that Lehi sees a tree whose fruit is “desirable to make [us] happy” (1 Nephi 8:10).

Now, in his dream, Lehi finds himself in a “large and spacious field” (1 Nephi 8:9). Once there, he sees the tree, “that tree of life” (1 Nephi 15:36), the tree with the desirable fruit. He wants to eat the fruit because he wants to be happy. So what does he do? He walks to the tree, reaches for the fruit, and takes a bite, probably several bites. The fruit is wonderful. It makes him happy.

Lehi wants his family to try the fruit. He looks around and sees his wife, Sariah, and two of his children, Nephi and Sam. They are close enough to hear Lehi, so he yells at them to come where he is so they can get a taste of the wonderful fruit. They listen to him and come and eat the fruit.

Lehi realizes that there is actually a path that leads to the tree. This path has a rod of iron that acts as a kind of handrail. Apparently, Whoever planted the tree in the large and spacious field wants everyone to be able to come to the tree, whether they are marathon runners, mountain climbers, or bus drivers. Whether they are survivalists, extreme-sports enthusiasts, or short-order cooks. Whoever they are or whatever they do, the One who planted the tree wants everyone to be able to come to the tree.

Lehi looks at the path. It is not particularly difficult. It apparently begins no more than a shout away from the tree. It does not go on for miles and miles and miles. It is not steep (if anything, the path might actually be slightly downhill, since a river flows toward the tree). It does not lead up the frightening slopes of an imposing and formidable mountain. It is not a treacherous path. It is not covered with slippery ice or slick oil. It does not have broken glass, rusty nails, or other things that might hurt us if we stepped on them. It is not uneven or jagged. It does not have any hidden pitfalls, dangerous cracks, or telltale signs of neglect.

Sure, the path leading to the tree is a “strait and narrow path” (1 Nephi 8:20), but the purpose of this design is to get us from Point A to Point B, not to make the journey any more difficult than it has to be. Consequently, the path is not a trail of tears or a thoroughfare of thorns. This path is the “path of the low valley” (2 Nephi 4:32). This path is a “plain road” (2 Nephi 4:32). It is a pleasant path.

And this pleasant path leads to the tree of life. An angel tells Nephi that the tree represents the love of God. Of course, for us fallen, mortal beings, the love of God is manifest in Jesus. For us, Jesus is the tree of life. Lehi wants to go to the tree because the tree is Jesus. Lehi knows that only Jesus has the fruit that makes us happy. That fruit is eternal life: a life with God, a life of happiness, a life that goes on and on in the long day of eternity.

You will remember from Lehi’s vision that Lehi does not pay for the fruit. He doesn’t buy it with money. He doesn’t purchase a ticket to eat the fruit. He doesn’t argue or bicker over the price, because for Lehi, there is no price. Lehi doesn’t have the kind of money required to buy this fruit. But Jesus does, and the fruit costs him more than we can imagine. What’s more, he gives it away for free, if we come to him.

Maybe you’ve wondered why Jesus is a tree in Lehi’s vision. Why a tree? Why not a soaring eagle who brings the fruit in a basket to us while we wander all over the great and spacious field and do whatever we want? Why not a ferocious grizzly bear, a swift horse, or a roaring lion? In Lehi’s vision, Jesus is a tree because the whole reason we are in a great and spacious field to begin with is for us to be able to choose what we want. If we want to be happy, then we will freely choose to come to the tree, and the tree will freely give us its fruit. In other words, if we want the righteousness of heaven made available to us in Christ, then we will freely choose to come to him, and he will freely give us eternal life.

But we have to choose. That’s why Jesus is a tree firmly rooted in the earth. That’s why he remains still while we move around in Lehi’s vision. True, Jesus comes down to us in our fallen world, but we have to come to him.

Finding the path that leads to Jesus is important. Entering that path is even more important.

I am happy that today I formally enter that path through the ordinance of baptism, just like Jesus showed us during his life on earth.

May we all find the path, walk in it, arrive at the tree, eat the fruit, and be happy.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.