The answers to these questions in this video are real and understandable. You will learn how to become familiar with the voice of God in your life if you follow the guidelines taught here.

The post How do I Distinguish God's Voice from Others? appeared first on Mormon Challenges.

Transcript

Good morning, my dear brothers and sisters. I invite your participation with me today during this devotional. How many of you have experienced confusion in your life regarding how prayers are being answered? By that I mean what voice is speaking to you? How many have been confused with regard to the difference between the Spirit of Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost? I believe that one of Satan’s main thrusts to destroy the Lord’s kingdom and his children would be to give to them a wrong conception, a wrong understanding in their minds regarding these matters. If I had a wrong or an inaccurate map of the city of Provo, and I wanted to find a particular destination, I would inevitably be lost. Not that I am not in the right territory, but that I have the wrong map or the wrong understanding of the territory. I wouldn’t really know where I was or where the place was that I intended to go. I believe that this has taken place with many people in our Church with regard to the subject of revelation and the functions of the Holy Ghost as differentiated from the functions of the Spirit of Jesus Christ.

Keep the Commandments

I was very interested in President Lee’s and President Kimball’s first press conference after they were made Presidents of the Church. The basic message which they gave to the world and to the Church was to keep the commandments. Keep the commandments. And, of course, if we study the messages of all of the prophets, that seems to be the burden of those messages . What would this mean in light of this subject focusing upon the role of the Spirit of Christ and the role of the Holy Ghost?

Let’s first examine the meaning of this message from the point of view of nonmembers of the Church. It seems that this message would have application for them: Keep the commandments. What are the commandments that they are familiar with? They are at least familiar with those in the Judeo-Christian tradition. They have received the Ten Commandments, and most of the laws of Western civilization are based upon those Ten Commandments. We are told in modern revelation that if people will follow the light that they have been given, it will lead them to the covenant gospel.

Let me quote from section 84 of our Doctrine and Covenants: “And the Spirit giveth light to every man that cometh into the world, that hearkeneth to the voice of the Spirit” (D&C 84:46). The Spirit of Jesus Christ is given to every person coming into the world, and particularly it will be manifested in those who have received the laws of God given through ancient prophets, particularly the Ten Commandments. “And every one that hearkeneth to the voice of the Spirit cometh unto God, even the Father. And the Father teacheth him of the covenant” (D&C 84:47–48). In other words, if people outside this Church will keep the Ten Commandments and follow their consciences, they will be led to the covenant gospel. Then when they enter into the covenant relationship with the Lord, they receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. They become members of his church and kingdom. For those who then are members of the Church and kingdom, what are the commandments of the Lord? They would comprise the Ten Commandments and the basic laws of the land. The Ten Commandments would be the predicate or the foundation for those laws. Plus, they would keep the covenants they have entered into in the ordinances of the gospel, the promises they have made which would give them a more educated conscience. They are more fully aware than anyone outside the kingdom of who they are and what their mission and role in life are and who God is and the role and mission of the Savior. That is a higher understanding, and it places, therefore, a greater responsibility or burden on them. They have a more educated conscience. They are more convicted by a feeling of guilt if they violate certain covenants of which the world is not even aware.

In addition to these general commandments and these Church principles and ordinances which apply to all members of the Church, they have the Holy Ghost. If they truly receive it, the Holy Ghost will give to them personal commandments. President Lee’s and President Kimball’s counsel to “keep the commandments” is such a distillation expression, because those who are not members of the Church will receive not only the general commandments which the world has received, but also the ordinances and principles of the gospel applicable to all members of the Church and, in addition, personal commandments from the Holy Ghost, giving guidance and direction in all of the activities and the affairs of their life. Their conscience is more educated than ever. They’re educated regarding the world’s enlightenment and the Church’s basic principles and doctrines, all of which is revelation—general revelation. But they are also educated with regard to personal revelation, personal commandments regarding each individual stewardship. We have been told many times by the Brethren words to this effect, that you and I as members of the Church have the same right to personal guidance and revelation in our area of jurisdiction, our stewardship, as the President of the Church has in his stewardship.

Let’s look at one more scripture with regard to the Spirit of Jesus Christ:

Which light [he’s speaking of the Light of Christ] proceedeth forth from the presence of God to fill the immensity of space—

The light which is in all things, which giveth life to all things, which is the law by which all things are governed, even the power of God who sitteth upon his throne, who is in the bosom of eternity, who is in the midst of all things. [D&C 88:12–13]

And the light which shineth, which giveth you light, is through him who enlighteneth your eyes, which is the same light that quickeneth your understandings. [D&C 88:11]

From this we learn that the Light of Christ is the creative and governing power for all things in this universe and for all of God’s creations. It is everywhere present.

What is really the power and spirit of God, we call the Light of Jesus Christ, and if it were to be withdrawn from us we would lose our life immediately. Moses experienced a time of a partial withdrawal, and he fell to the earth and for the space of many hours he did not even have his natural strength and he proclaimed: “Now . . . I know that man is nothing, which thing I never had supposed” (Moses 1:10). I believe that what the scientist calls nature is the Spirit of Jesus Christ. I believe that what the Catholic and Protestant worlds call God is the Spirit of Jesus Christ. And perhaps this is what all religions call God. It is everywhere present; it can dwell in a man’s heart. I believe that what the humanist would call decency and what the man on the street would call common sense is the Spirit of Jesus Christ. We all are partakers of the Spirit. The civilized world has the Spirit of Jesus Christ; and if the people obey it, they will be led to the covenant gospel probably through members of the Church and missionaries. They will pray in their own ways. I’ll never forget the great impression I had in the Irish Mission when I wrote to new converts to obtain an understanding of their background and their conversion process. It was almost universal that they had been praying in some way or hungering in some way, not necessarily in our way but in some way they were hurting and desiring something more, and many of them were trying to be truer to their consciences. They were being prepared by the Spirit of the Lord.

Listen to the Holy Ghost

Elder Bruce R. McConkie in a message to institute and seminary people on this campus several years ago used this physical illustration to distinguish between the Spirit of Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost. It was very instructive and impressive to me. He said, “The Spirit of the Holy Ghost could be compared to a radio transmitter; you and I, to the radio receivers. The radio waves would be the Spirit of Jesus Christ.” This physical symbol illustrates the difference. The Holy Ghost is a member of the Godhead who performs very specific functions on this earth—to sanctify, to guide, to witness, to testify of the Father and Son and things pertaining to their kingdom, and to confirm the promise of the Father when you and I enter into a covenant relationship in the waters of baptism. When we renew our covenants in other ordinances the Holy Ghost confirms the promise of the Father to us, his covenant children, that if we will live true we will have peace in this world and eternal life in the world to come. The Holy Ghost then would give us guidance, personal revelation, and personal commandments regarding the affairs of our lives. President McKay taught that to all members of the Church who are in the line of their duty the Holy Ghost normally speaks through their consciences. The Lord may choose many ways to speak, but it seems that the still, small voice, the enlightened conscience, or heart within a person would be the natural one for him to choose. However, it may require some other way to reach a man who is perhaps beyond the experience or the words of Christ which have been deposited within that conscience, or it may require the imposition of keys, priesthood powers, or certain other special blessings. The choice would lie in the Lord’s hands according to his purposes. But for most of us most of the time the Holy Ghost will speak through our consciences. The Spirit of Jesus Christ is the medium through which the Holy Ghost, this member of the Godhead, performs his unique and special functions (see Moroni 10).

I would like to ask four questions and ask you to ponder carefully the answers to these questions in your heart, your conscience. The still, small voice will give to you an inward awareness of these questions. You won’t hear a voice in your ear. You’ll feel it; you’ll sense it. There’s an awareness, particularly if you have educated your conscience through the teachings of the Church and prayer and scripture study.

First question: What do I need to do to draw closer to the living Christ? Can we pause for a few seconds and seriously consider the answer from our consciences to that question? What do I need to do to draw closer to the living Christ?

Second question: What do I need to do to be a better member of my family? Think about your particular role: father, mother, son daughter, brother, sister.

Third question: What do I need to do to more fully magnify my Church membership and callings? If you are a male member who holds the priesthood, ask yourself what you can do to magnify your priesthood? Really listen and sense what your conscience is saying to you.

Final question: What do I need to do to more fully magnify my stewardship as a student here at Brigham Young University or as a faculty person or staff person, whatever role it may be?

How many here can honestly acknowledge that you know many things that perhaps you need to do in these categories? How many would also acknowledge that if you and I were to really do these things, marvelous results would take place in our lives. Why do we wait? What are we waiting for?

I really believe that what we sensed within ourselves today is personal revelation.

Our conscience is the repository of all that divine education, and if we really are still and listen to the answers to those kinds of questions which to me are the prioritized stewardships of our life, we will get this guidance. If an angel of the Lord were to come into this devotional assembly today and stand in the air, clothed in power and glory, and give to each of us the same messages that we have received from the still, small voice within, what would we think of that experience? I’m sure we’d be terribly impressed and perhaps go to our death beds testifying of it when constrained to do so. Yet I believe in a sense that that which you and I have received is of a higher order of revelation, less dramatic, but of a higher order of revelation than if an angel of the Lord from the other world were to give to us these messages. Angels minister by the power of the Aaronic Priesthood. The Holy Ghost ministers by the power of the Melchizedek Priesthood. Jesus said to his disciples, “More blessed are those who believe and have not seen than those who believe and have seen” (see John 20:29).

The Prophet Joseph once told a man who was critical of himself because he hadn’t come out of the waters of baptism prophesying and speaking in tongues as someone else had: “You had more believing blood.” He elucidated the point that those who are of the blood of Israel will often experience less dramatic physical kinds of manifestations than those who are being adopted into the blood.

I believe sometimes that as Latter-day Saints we are like fish who discover water last. We are so immersed in the element that we are unaware of its presence. We have been immersed in the revelations of the Lord in this dispensation. No dispensation can compare to this one. The level of light and knowledge about man’s true nature, our mission, and the full scope of ordinances that can be performed for the living and the dead in the temples of the Lord transcend that which has been given to any other dispensation. In a sense this is a dispensation of the Holy Ghost. We don’t experience the personal ministry of the Savior in our presence, but that isn’t as great as the Holy Ghost. The Savior even said to his disciples, “It’s necessary that I must go or the Holy Ghost will not come” (see John 16:7). You can imagine their feeling about that because every time the Savior would leave they would fall apart and desert him. There wasn’t one disciple that did not fall away—including, as we know, the chief disciple, Peter. But before he did finally leave them after his resurrection, he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Ghost” (see Acts 1:5–8). It’s possible to be given a gift and receive not that gift. They prayed, the scripture says. They stayed together and fellowshipped each other, read the words of the scriptures, and remembered the words of their Savior. Then on the day of Pentecost the Holy Ghost came like cloven tongues of fire. Then the real conversion processes, under the influence of the gifts of the Spirit, changed these otherwise weak men into indefatigable disciples, champions of the truth right to their martyrs’ deaths.

Nephi became so sensitive to the still, small voice that he could dialogue with it when he was commanded to slay Laban. He had such familiarity with that voice through long obedience that he knew it was the Lord’s voice. Laman and Lemuel had no familiarity with it. It required an angel to come to them and to shake them. The message had to break into their sensory world so that their senses could recognize what had happened. They were not changed before nor after the appearance of the angel. I believe many people in our Church are often “looking beyond the mark,” looking for some more mystical, dramatic, mysterious manifestation, and they may be denying all the while the true spirit of revelation of the Holy Ghost to their own souls.

I spoke at a devotional a couple of years ago at Ricks College, and a girl came up afterwards and said, “Brother Covey, what is the difference between a heartburn and a burning in the heart?” She was really asking, “How do I really know how God answers prayers? How do I know it’s not just me projecting my own wish and want onto God, feeling good about it, and calling it his answer?” That’s what she was asking, and I believe many of us have asked that question of ourselves.

I said to her, “When we had this little listening exercise, sister, did you feel or sense anything?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, “I know so many things I need to do to be a better person.”

“Then, sister, I suggest that you forget that question. Just do those things. If you do, you’ll become acquainted with the voice, and that will be the answer to your question. You didn’t like that answer, did you, sister?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She said, “I have no excuse anymore.”

A year later I spoke at another Ricks devotional on another subject. She came up afterwards and said, “Brother Covey, do you remember me?”

“I can’t quite place you.”

“I was the one that asked you about the heartburn.”

“Oh yes, whatever happened to you?”

She said, “I did those things. I took it seriously. I know very clearly the difference now between the true voice and the many other voices within and without.”

I said, “For instance, what did you do?”

“I really began to study the scriptures in a serious way. My prayers were most earnest and sincere and deep. I made reconciliation with certain individuals who I had thought I could just forget because I didn’t like them. I was more cooperative at home, more helpful. I stopped procrastinating as a student, practicing self-management by crisis. I used to put off studying all the time, but I became more conscientious. I realized this was a stewardship. I started doing genealogy work. I was more pleasant with my brothers and sisters. I didn’t speak back to my parents. I just became a less defensive person.”

On a Know-Your-Religion circuit in California this last year, this same girl came up to me and said, “Would you be interested in the third installment?”

I said, “I would.”

“I can’t believe the difference in my life once I started to realize that the Holy Ghost is my own guide if I will listen to him. I can receive personal guidance and revelation, and as long as I am true to it all things will work together for my good.” She bore her testimony. There was no confusion in her mind anymore.

President Lee spoke to a group of missionaries in England, and in answer to the question “What is the most important of all the commandments?” said, “The most important commandment is the one you’re having the greatest difficulty living.” You can see why. If a person would be true to the whispering of that still, small voice regarding some of those matters that you and I just heard, other things would happen. Many people who want to have answers to big decisions or intellectual dilemmas in their minds, but who are not really open and receptive to the whisperings of the Spirit in their hearts, will continue to remain confused in their minds. The principle is this: If you’re confused about a matter, be true to that which you know is right, and in the Lord’s time and according to his purposes you will be given enlightenment and understanding regarding the matter you were confused about. It may be a big decision or it may be an intellectual problem that you have on your mind.

A university in Arizona recently had what they called a “Religion in Life Week.” I was invited to be a religious representative of our Church along with other representatives of other churches. The second night there I was invited to speak to a sorority-fraternity exchange at the Chi Omega house on the subject of the new morality. I basically gave our Church’s approach to it: that chastity is an eternal law, that the “new morality” is really the old immorality, and so forth. I felt very alone because there seemed to be considerable difference in thinking. Two individuals were very articulate in expressing their opposition to my position. One, sitting in front, said basically, “Well, I don’t know. It seems to me that true, mature love gives more freedom than you’re giving it.”

I tried to reason and indicate what would happen if one were to take poison, even if he were unaware of it, and how also if one violated the law of chastity he would suffer great consequences. He argued against this, indicating that this didn’t give the kind of freedom that a careful, mature, responsible love would give people. I prayed and remembered the scripture in Revelations, “Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man will hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him and will sup with him, and he with me” (Revelations 3:20). So I asked them, “Would you listen for just a minute? Inwardly sense what might happen, what the real answer is to this question that we have tonight. I’ll ask a question, and you be still and listen. I’ll promise you, you will sense inwardly—you won’t hear it in your ear—that what I’ve been speaking about is true on this principle of chastity.” They became still. Some of them were looking around to see who was going to take it seriously. And I really pressed the point: “Just listen for one minute.” During that quiet minute I asked the question “Now, is chastity, as I have explained it tonight, a true principle or not?” Then I paused. At the end of a full minute, I turned to the fellow who had been the spokesman in front and I asked him, “My friend, in all honesty, what did you feel? What did you hear?

He said, “What I heard is not what I’ve been saying.”

I asked the other, “What did you hear?”

He said, “I don’t know. I just don’t know any more.” One stood up in the back independently, spontaneously, on his own, and said, “I want to say something to my fraternity brothers that I’ve never said before. I believe in God.” And he sat down. A completely different spirit was present. It softened everybody. They were very interested in the restored gospel and in the Book of Mormon. We invited many to the institute of religion and gave some books out.

Follow Five Principles for Educating Your Conscience

The final question I’d like to look at for just a moment is this: How do you educate your conscience? I suggest five principles. First, if you really want an educated conscience, feast regularly upon the words and the love of Jesus Christ. What does that mean? Seriously make a daily program to study the scriptures. Ponder the scriptures and meditate upon them. Be still. Perhaps you will read only one verse a day, but you’re going to read the word of the Lord. Memorize some of the scriptures. It’s like programming a computer. Get them into your heart. If you feast upon the words of Christ, then the Holy Ghost will bring to your remembrance the things you need to do, based upon the guidance that you have received on a moment-by moment basis. The Church will teach us principles, and the Holy Ghost will teach us specific practices and specific applications.

Second, when you pray, listen. Look on your prayers, not as a time to counsel the Lord, but as a time to take counsel from him. I really believe too many times we go down a checklist, in a sense, telling the Lord who, how, where, and when to bless and directing him around the universe and the heavens, instead of being still, sensing a relationship, listening, and then responding to what you hear. Feasting on the words and the love of Christ will instill the desire to listen.

Third, covenant. Commit to obey what you hear. Unify and marshal the will and the energy within you to say, “I take this stewardship. I will do these things.”

Fourth, keep the covenant. Keep the commitment.

Fifth, return and report. Give an accounting of your stewardship. You will feel the still voice say within you, “I commend you for your integrity. Very good, my son or my daughter. This labor is acceptable.” Then you progress to the next level and the next level.

If you have temptations toward impure thoughts, try these steps. Feast on the words and the love of Christ, then ask the Lord to give you a heightened awareness or sensitivity toward any tempting environments, and then commit to the Lord that the moment that sensitivity is given to you you will turn from it and do some worthy thing. Then keep your commitment.

One student said to me, “All my mature life I’ve had trouble with bad thoughts—even during my mission. Whenever I was asked the question ’Are you morally clean?’ I answered yes because I was considering my practices. But I always had some plaguing feelings about my thoughts.” We were walking into a final examination one day when he said, “Brother Covey, I can look you in the eye today and say, ’I am morally clean, right to my core.’” What did he do? For a period of several months he feasted on the words of Christ, asked the Lord for a heightened awareness of temptation, turned immediately at the very first onset of that temptation and did worthy things, went back to his divine purposes and his work. Elder Packer said, “Hum a hymn. Memorize a scripture.” And this young man did it. The Holy Ghost. I believe, purged much of that other disposition right out of his nature.

I express my testimony, dear brothers and sisters. With all my heart I believe that we are immersed in the revelations of the greatest dispensation, the restoration dispensation. I believe that we have available to us at any moment the whisperings of the still, small voice, the Holy Ghost, and that if we will take pains regularly to educate it and to train it, it will be a continuing source of personal revelation to us. My testimony is borne out of the Spirit of the living God to my soul. I know that this is true. I know that the Father and the Son appeared to the Prophet Joseph Smith and established the Church that teaches the gospel. I also know that it is possible to be active in the Church, in one sense at least, and not to be active in the gospel. To be active in the gospel is a continuous responsibility and stewardship of seeking and living by the Holy Spirit. I bear witness that you are God’s covenant children. We are all children of the promise. Our life is a mission, not a career. The Holy Ghost is to be used to bless all of our Father in heaven’s children. I testify also of Jesus Christ. I love the words: “I believe in Christ as I believe in the rising sun—not because I can see it, but because by it I can see everything else.” He is truly the life and the light of the world. He speaks to his prophet, President Kimball, and to each of us if we will but listen and educate our consciences. And I pray God that we will do so, in the sacred name of the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Stephen R. Covey was associate professor of organizational behavior and business management at Brigham Young University when this devotional address was given on 27 May 1975.

© Brigham Young University. All rights reserved.

The post How Do I Know It's From God and Not Just Me? appeared first on Mormon Challenges.

What if English speaking USA were being researched 2000 years from now as an ancient civilization and the people of that day had only broken the code of deciphering our language 150 years earlier. Imagine a researcher doing a paper on how this civilization used sports as entertainment. He finds interest in the excavation of a football stadium. Researchers at that site know that something called football was played there, but know very little about what it involved. In his research of what appears to be ruins of residences in the vicinity, he discovers a journal of what appears to be a sports enthusiast who writes a lot about football and even describes some of the rules. Because of this groundbreaking research, archaeologists assume that football involved a round ball that was to be advanced toward a goal net at either end of a long field mostly with the feet and without the use of hands. What the archaeologists have no way of knowing is that the writer of the journal was from England, and was a big soccer fan, even though he was living in Green Bay for a time.

In this case, the translation of the journal was perfectly accurate, but their assumptions were completely off base. There were many countries and cultures who used the Egyptian language anciently. We need to not be too hasty in jumping to conclusions about what is an accurate translation or interpretation of an ancient Egyptian document based on the small thumbnail sketch of those ancient civilizations which we have today.

The post How We Know Things appeared first on Mormon Challenges.

The post Do Challenges Bring us Closer to God? appeared first on Mormon Challenges.

Love is Not Blind: Some Thoughts for College Students on Faith and Ambiguity

Bruce C. Hafen

Thank you, President Oaks. It feels good to be back on this campus. If you were to ask our children where they are from, they would still say Provo. I do not know how many more years that will continue; we hope that they will become acclimated to Rexburg soon. Provo and Rexburg have much in common, not the least of which is that in these two cities are two great colleges. It has been a source of great satisfaction to me to notice the support and concern that BYU people have for Ricks College. I want you BYU people to know that the people at Ricks appreciate your interest.I also would like to share with you something I recently heard about students in the Church schools, so that we can be alert to what the enemy is saying. A friend of mine, a graduate from another school in this state, recently asked me if I knew the difference between a rooster, a patriot, and a coed who goes to an LDS college. I said that I did not know the difference, but that I had always wondered about that very question.

He said, “A rooster says ‘cock-a-doodle-doo,’ a patriot says ‘Yankee Doodle-doo,’ but a coed at Ricks or BYU says ‘Any dude’ll do.’” This obviously does not apply to us, except for the occasion on which I proposed to my wife here in Provo a number of years ago. At that time, at least, I was glad that there was some truth in that observation.

The title for my remarks today, brothers and sisters, is a simple one that will leave you wondering what I mean; I hope it will be clear by the time I have finished. The title is “Love Is Not Blind.”
When I was a law student, my wife and I attended a student ward in which most of the members were graduate students. We developed close friendships with many of those who were experiencing, as we were, the great expanding of our minds as we learned the tools of intellectual analysis and the expanding of our spirits as we drew close to the Lord through such experiences as marriage and the bearing of our first children.
One Sunday morning, the Elders Quorum in our ward held a special testimony meeting characterized by spiritual warmth and personal openness. During that meeting, a fellow law student related a boyhood experience that had occurred just after he had been ordained a deacon. He lived on a farm and had been promised that a calf about to be born would be his very
own to raise. One summer morning when his parents were away, he was working in the barn when the expectant cow began to calve prematurely. He watched in great amazement as the little calf was born; and then, without warning, the mother suddenly rolled over the little calf. He could see that she was trying to kill it. In his heart he cried out to the Lord for help. Not thinking about how much more the cow weighed than he did, he pushed on her with all his strength and somehow moved her away. He picked up the lifeless body of the calf in his arms and, brokenhearted, the tears running down his cheeks, he looked at it, wondering what had happened and what he could do. Then he remembered, he told us, that he now held the Priesthood and had every right to pray for additional help. And so he prayed from the depths of his boyish, believing heart. Before long the little animal began breathing again, and he knew that his prayer had been heard.

After relating the story, the tears welled up in his eyes and he said to us, “Brethren, I tell you that story because I don’t know that I would do now what I did then. I think I might not expect the Lord’s help in that kind of situation. I am not sure that I would believe now, even if I relived that experience, that the calf’s survival was anything more than a coincidence. I don’t understand what has happened to me since that incident, but I sense that something has gone a little bit wrong.”

My friend in the Elders Quorum was not saying that he had lost faith in the Lord; rather, he was simply being very honest with us, I think, in sharing both the childlike and the sophisticated dimensions of his experience. This story reflects the thoughts and feelings that many of us experience, in our own way, during the college years. These thoughts and feelings are an important part of growing toward spiritual and intellectual maturity, as well as an important part of understanding both the strengths and the limitations of a college education.
Before entering college, most of us think of things for the most part in terms of black and white—there is very little gray in either the intellectual or the spiritual dimension of our perspective. Thus, most of the freshmen at places like BYU and Ricks have a wonderfully childlike optimism and loyalty that makes them more teachable and more pleasant than any other group of students. I consider it one of the great blessings of my life to be associated with so many young people at this point in their lives at Ricks College. It is typical of these young men and women to trust their teachers, to believe what they read, and to respond with boundless enthusiasm to invitations for Church service. Where else but in a student ward composed mostly of freshmen would you find a Church member so thrilled to be called by the bishop as the songbook coordinator, or perhaps the Relief Society Sunday morning orange juice specialist? As one returned missionary put it, one of the best things about a student ward composed mostly of freshmen and sophomores is that when a topic such as faith or repentance is raised for discussion nobody yawns.

As time goes on, however, new experiences may introduce a new dimension to a student’s perspective. In general, I would characterize this new dimension as a growing awareness that there is a kind of gap between the real and the ideal—between what is and what ought to be. To illustrate, I ask you to picture in your mind two circles, one inside the other. The inner boundary is the real, or what is; the outer boundary is the ideal, or what ought to be. We stand at the inner boundary, reaching out, trying to pull ourselves closer to the ideals to which we have committed ourselves. We become aware of the distance between these two boundaries when we sense that some things about ourselves or the circumstances we witness are not all we wish they were. At that point, some frustrations can arise. Let me offer some illustrations of what I mean.

Students at a large Church college may suffer disillusionment when they lose some great battle with the giant red-tape machine, or when they remain unknown and nameless to their student ward bishop for weeks or even months, or when they brush up against a faculty member whose Church commitments seem to them to be in doubt. At a more personal and spiritual level, perhaps an important prayer goes too long unanswered, or they suffer some devastating setback with grades, good health, or the prospects for marriage; and the heavens may seem closed in a time of great need. They may also become increasingly conscious of the imperfections of others, including parents, other Church members, or even a bishop or a stake president. As the historians say, when we become more familiar with those who have been our heroes we may begin to see their human limitations. Students may also begin to confront such controversial issues as the role of women in the Church and differing political views among Church members.
It is not uncommon for missionaries, too, to encounter this gap between the real and the ideal, perhaps because new missionaries generally make more idealistic commitments than they have ever before taken upon themselves. And yet, in spite of their most valiant efforts, they may find themselves more than once fighting back the tears of disappointment when the promised fruits of a positive mental attitude somehow elude them. There is a kind of poignancy in those moments when we first discover that there might be some limitations to the idea that we can do anything we make up our mind to do. I once gave everything I had to that proposition, in my determination to be the greatest shot-putter in the history of my junior high school. But I simply was not big enough—it really was hopeless.

Experiences such as these can produce confusion and uncertainty—in a word, ambiguity—and one may yearn with nostalgia for simpler, easier times when things seemed not only more clear but more under our control. Such experiences may bring about the beginnings of skepticism, of criticism, of unwillingness to respond to authority or to invitations to reach for ideals that now truly seem beyond one’s grasp. Not everybody will encounter what I have been describing, and I do not mean to suggest that everyone must encounter such experiences. But college students are probably more likely to encounter “ambiguity” than almost any other group.

The fundamental teachings of the restored gospel are potent, clear and unambiguous; but it is possible, on occasion, to encounter some ambiguity even in studying the scriptures. Consider for example the case—known to all of us—of Nephi, who slew Laban in order to obtain the scriptural record (see 1 Nephi 4:5–18). That situation is not free from ambiguity until the reader realizes that God himself, who gave the commandment “Thou shalt not kill” (Exodus 20:13), was also the origin of the instructions to Nephi in that exceptional case.

Consider also the case of Peter on the night he denied any knowledge of his Master three times in succession (see Matthew 26; Mark 14; Luke 22; John 18). We commonly regard Peter as something of a coward whose commitment was not strong enough to make him rise to the Savior’s defense, but I once heard President Spencer W. Kimball offer an alternative interpretation of Peter’s situation. In a talk on this campus in 1971, President Kimball, then a member of the Quorum of the Twelve, said that the Savior’s statement that Peter would deny him three times before the cock crowed might have been a request to Peter, not a prediction. Jesus just might have been instructing his chief apostle to deny any association with him in order to insure strong leadership for the Church after the Crucifixion. As President Kimball asked, who can doubt Peter’s boldness and willingness to stand up and be counted when he struck off the ear of the guard in the garden of Gethsemane. President Kimball did not offer this view as the only interpretation, but he did point out that there is enough justification for it that it ought to be considered. So what is the answer—was Peter a weakling, or was he so crucial to the survival of the Church that he was prohibited from risking his life? We are not sure. This is a scriptural incident in which there is some ambiguity inhibiting our total understanding.
Let us compare some other scriptural passages. The Lord has said that he cannot look upon sin with the least degree of allowance (D&C 1:31), yet elsewhere he said to the adulteress, “Where are . . . thine accusers? . . . Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more” (John 8:10, 11). There is indeed a principle of justice, but there is also a principle of mercy. At times these two correct principles collide with each other as the unifying higher principle of the Atonement does its work. Even though God has given us correct principles by which we are to govern ourselves, it is not always easy to apply them to particular situations in our lives.

We face concrete examples of that process every day as we attempt to fulfill our duties to family, Church, community, and professional concerns. A young mother who lives in this community and who has several children, a responsible Church position, and a busy and faithful husband, expressed her dismay as she tried to decide what should come first in her life and when. She was told, “Well, just be sure you put the Lord’s work first.”
Her reply: “But what if it is all the Lord’s work?”

Similarly, my wife and I have often wondered how we should deal with our children in one of the four thousand incidents not anticipated by any of the books on childrearing. Sometimes one of us has a clear feeling about what should be done, but often I find myself simply telling her, with great conviction and total confidence in her, “Well, my dear, just be sure you do the right thing.”

Church and family life are not the only areas where the right answer is not always on the tip of the tongue. If you would stretch your mind about the implications of ambiguity, you might think once again of the Vietnam War. Should our nation have tried to do more than it did, or less than it did? Or perhaps you could consider whether we should sell all we have and donate our surplus to the millions of people who are starving. You might also ask yourself how much governmental intervention in business and private life is too much. The people on the extreme sides of these questions convey great certainty about what should be done. However, I think some of these people are more interested in being certain than they are in being right.

Turning to one more fertile field to illustrate the naturalness of ambiguity, I remember Arthur King’s statement that most truly great literary works will raise some profound question about a human problem, explore the question skillfully and in depth, and then leave the matter for the reader to resolve. He added that if the resolution seems too clear or too easy either the literature is not very good or those reading it have missed its point. Take, for example, Dostoevsky’s novel The Idiot, which seriously raises the question of whether it is possible for a true Christian to love unselfishly. The main character of the story is a pure and good person who loves two different women in two different ways. One he loves as most men love women—she cares for him, she helps him, he is attracted to her romantically, and she could make his life very happy. The other woman, a pathetically inadequate person, he loves primarily because she needs him desperately and because he has a compassionate heart. Posing the dilemma of which of these two women the man should marry, Dostoevsky seems to ask if it is possible for mortal men to be honestly devoted to the unselfish ideals of Christianity. As you might expect, he leaves the huge question unresolved, forcing the reader to ponder if for himself.

I have intentionally tried to suggest a wide variety of instances in which the answers we seek are not as quickly apparent as we might expect. My suggestion is that some uncertainty is characteristic of mortal experience. The mists of darkness in Lehi’s dream are, for that very reason, a symbolic representation of life as we face it on this planet. Many things are, of course, very certain and very clear, as is so beautifully represented by the iron rod in Lehi’s dream; but, particularly to those who pursue a college education, there is enough complexity to make the topic of ambiguity worthy of discussion.
Given, then, the existence for most of us of a gap between where we stand and where we would like to be, and given that we will have at least some experiences that make us wonder, what are we to do? I believe that there are three different levels of dealing with ambiguity. There may be more, but I would like to talk in terms of three.

At level one there are two typical attitudes, one of which is that we simply do not—perhaps cannot—see the problems that exist. Some seem almost consciously to filter out any perception of a gap between the real and the ideal. Those in this category are they for whom the gospel at its best is a firm handshake, an enthusiastic greeting, and a smiley button. Their mission was the best, their student ward is the best, and every new day is probably going to be the best day they ever had. These cheerful ones are happy, spontaneous, and optimistic, and they always manage to hang loose. They are able to weather many storms that would seem formidable to more pessimistic types, though one wonders if the reason is often that they have somehow missed hearing that a storm was going on.

A second group at level one has quite a different problem with the gap between what is and what ought to be. Those in this category eliminate the frustration created as they sense a distance between the real and the ideal in their world by, in effect, erasing the inner circle of reality. They cling to the ideal so singlemindedly that they are able to avoid feeling the pain that would come from facing the truth about themselves, others, or the world around them. I suppose it is this category that is sometimes represented in the letters to the editor of the school papers at BYU and at Ricks where such shock is expressed that some person or some part of the institution has fallen short of perfection, leaving the writer aghast—“surely not at the Lord’s university.” One of the problems experienced by those in this group is that they seem unable to distinguish between imperfections that matter a great deal and those that may not matter so much. I think Hugh Nibley must have had them in mind when he spoke of those who think it is more commendable to get up at 5 A.M. to write a bad book than it is to get up at 9 A.M. to write a good book. It is obvious to Brother Nibley that the exact hour at which we arise is not as important as what we do once we are up.

I recall listening to a group of students as they discussed which of the two types of people I have just described offered the most appropriate model for their emulation. They felt that they had to choose between being relaxed and happy and carefree about the gospel, or being intense perfectionists. After listening to the discussion, I felt that both of these types suffer from the same limitation. It is not much of a choice to select between a frantic concern with perfection and a forced superficial happiness. Both perspectives lack depth, and their proponents understand things too quickly and draw conclusions from their experience too easily. Neither type is very well prepared for adversity, and I fear that the first strong wind that comes along will blow both of them over. This, I believe, is primarily because their roots have not sunk deep enough into the soil of experience to establish a firm foundation. Both also reflect the thinness of philosophy untempered by common sense. In both cases, it would be helpful simply to be more realistic about life’s experiences, even if that means facing some questions and limitations that leave one a bit uncomfortable. That very discomfort can be a motivation toward real growth. As someone has said, the true Church is intended not only to comfort the afflicted, but to afflict the comfortable.

I invite you, then, to step up to level two, where you see things for what they are; for only then can you deal with them in a meaningful and constructive way. If we are not willing to grapple with the frustration that comes from honestly and bravely facing the uncertainties we encounter, we may never develop the kind of spiritual maturity that is necessary for our ultimate preparations. It was Heber C. Kimball who once said that the Church has many close places through which it must yet pass and that those living on borrowed light will not be able to stand when those days come. Thus, we need to develop the capacity to form judgments of our own about the value of ideas, opportunities, or people who may come into our lives. We will not always have the security of knowing whether a certain idea is “Church approved,” because new ideas do not always come along with little tags attached to them saying whether the Church has given them the stamp of approval. Whether in the form of music, books, friends, or opportunities to serve, there is much that is “lovely, . . . of good report, [and] praiseworthy” (Article of Faith 13) that is not the subject of detailed discussion in Church manuals or courses of instruction. Those who will not risk exposure to experiences of life that are not obviously related to some well-known Church work or program will, I believe, live less abundant and meaningful lives than the Lord intends. We must develop sufficient independence of judgment and maturity of perspective that we are prepared to handle the shafts and whirlwinds of adversity and contradiction that are so likely to come along in our lives. When those times come, we cannot be living on borrowed light. We should not be deceived by the clear-cut labels some may use to describe circumstances that are, in fact, not so clear. Our encounters with reality and disappointment are in fact vital stages in the development of our maturity and understanding.

Despite the value of this level-two kind of awareness about which I have been talking, some serious hazards still remain. One’s acceptance of the clouds of uncertainty may be so complete that the iron rod fades into the receding mist and skepticism becomes a guiding philosophy. Often, this perspective comes from erasing the outer circle representing the ideal, or what ought to be, and focusing excessively on the inner circle of reality. When I was a teacher at the BYU Law School, I noticed how common it was among our first-year students to experience great frustration as they discovered how much our legal system is characterized not by hard and fast rules but by legal principles that often appear to contradict each other.

I remember, for example, one student in his first year who approached me after a class early in the semester to express the confusion he was encountering in his study of law. He said that he had what he called “a low tolerance for ambiguity” and had been wondering if part of his problem was that he had returned only weeks before from a mission, where everything was crisp and clear and where even the words he was to speak were provided for him. To feel successful, all he had to do was follow the step-by-step plan given him for each day and each task on his mission. Law school was making him feel totally at sea, as he groped for simple guidelines that would tell him what to do. His circumstance was only another example of what I have previously tried to describe as typical of college and university students early in their experience.

However, by the time our law students reached their third year of study, it was not at all uncommon for them to develop such a high tolerance for ambiguity that they were skeptical about everything, including some dimensions of their religious faith. Where formerly they felt they had all the answers but just did not know what the questions were, they now seemed to have all the questions but few of the answers. I found myself wanting to tell our third-year law student that those who take too much delight in their finely honed tools of skepticism and dispassionate analysis will limit their effectiveness in the Church and elsewhere, because they become contentious, standoffish, arrogant, and unwilling to get involved and commit themselves.

I have seen some of these people try out their new intellectual tools in some context like a priesthood quorum or Sunday School class. A well-meaning teacher will make a point that they think is a little silly, and they will feel an irresistible urge to leap to their feet and pop the teacher’s bubble. If they are successful, they begin looking for other opportunities to point out the exception to any rule anybody can state. They begin to delight in cross-examination of the unsuspecting, just looking for somebody’s bubble up there floating around so that they can pop it with their shiny new pin. And in all that, they fail to realize that when some of those bubbles pop, out goes the air; and with it goes much of the feeling of trust, loyalty, harmony, and sincerity so essential to preserving the Spirit of the Lord.

If that begins to happen in your ward, in your home, or in your marriage, you might have begun to destroy the fragile fabric of trust that binds us together in all loving relationships. People in your ward may come away from some of their encounters with you wondering how you can possibly have a deep commitment to the Church and do some of the things you do.

I am not suggesting that we should always just smile and nod our approval, implying that everything is wonderful and that our highest hope is that everybody have a nice day. That is level one. I am suggesting that you realize the potential for evil as well as good that may come with what a college education can do to your mind and your way of dealing with other people.

The dangers of which I speak are not limited to our relations with others. They can becomes very personal, prying into our own hearts in unhealthy ways. The ability to acknowledge ambiguity is not a final form of enlightenment. Having admitted to a willingness to suspend judgment temporarily on questions that seem hard to answer, having developed greater tolerance and more patience, our basic posture toward the Church can, if we are not careful, gradually shift from being committed to being noncommittal. That is not a healthy posture. Indeed, in many ways, a Church member who moves from a stage of commitment to a stage of being tentative and noncommital is in a worse position than one who has never before experienced a basic commitment. The previously committed person who developed a high tolerance for ambiguity may too easily assume that he has already been through the “positive mental attitude” routine and “knows better” now, as he judges things. He may assume that being submissive, meek, obedient, and humble are matters with which he is already familiar, and that he has finally outgrown the need to work very hard at being that way again. Brothers and sisters, those are the assumptions of a hardened heart.

I once had an experience that taught me a great lesson about the way a highly developed tolerance for “being realistic” can inhibit the workings of the Spirit in our lives. When I had been on my mission in Germany about a year, I was assigned to work with a brand new missionary named Elder Keeler, who had just arrived fresh from converting—or so he thought—all the stewardesses on the plane from New York to Frankfurt. Within a few days of his arrival, I was called to a meeting in another city and had to leave him to work in our city with another inexperienced missionary whose companion went with me. I returned late that night.

The next morning I asked him how his day had gone. He broke into a big smile and said that he had found a family who would surely join the Church. In our mission, it was rare to see anybody join the Church, let alone a whole family. I asked for more details, but he had forgotten to write down either the name or the address. All he could remember was that the family lived on the top floor of a big apartment house. “Oh, that’s great,” I thought to myself as I contemplated all those flights of stairs. He also explained that he knew so little German that he had exchanged but a few words with the woman who answered the door. But he did think she wanted us to come back—and he wanted to go find her and have me talk to her that very minute. I explained to him that the people who do not slam the door in missionaries’ faces are not all planning to join the Church. But off we went to find her, mostly to humor him. He could not remember the right street either, so we picked a likely spot in our tracting area and began climbing up and down those endless polished staircases.

After a frustrating hour, I decided that I really needed to level with him. “Based on my many months of experience,” I said, “it is simply not worth our time to try any longer to find that woman. I have developed a tolerance for the realities of missionary work, and I simply know more about all this than you do.”
His eyes filled with tears and his lower lip began to tremble. (That elder was no dummy—he recently graduated from Boalt Law School at Berkeley.) I remember it so well—he said to me through those tear-filled eyes, “Elder Hafen, I came on my mission to find the honest in heart. The Spirit told me that that woman is going to join the Church, and you can’t stop me from finding her.”
I decided that I had to teach him a lesson. So I raced him up one staircase after another until he was ready to drop, and so was I. “Elder Keeler,” I asked, “had enough?”
“No,” he said. “We’ve got to find her.”
I began to smolder. I decided to work him until he pled with me to stop—then maybe he would get the message.
Then, at the top of a long flight of stairs, we found the apartment. She came to the door. He thrashed my ribs with his elbow and whispered loudly, “That’s her, elder. That’s the one. Talk to her!”

Not long ago, brothers and sisters, up on Maple Lane a few blocks from here, that woman’s husband sat in our living room. He was here for general conference because he is the bishop of the Mannheim Ward. His two boys are preparing for missions; his wife and daughters are pillars of the Church. That is a lesson I can never forget about the limitations of the skepticism and the tolerance for ambiguity that come with learning and experience. I hope that I will never be so aware of “reality” that I am unresponsive to the whisperings of heaven.

It seems to me that the most productive response to ambiguity, then, is at level three, where we not only view things with our eyes wide open but with our hearts wide open as well. When we do that, there will be many times when we are called upon to take some action when we think we need more evidence before knowing just what to do. Such occasions may range from following the counsel of the Brethren on birth control to accepting a home teaching assignment. Based on my experience, I believe that it is always better to give the Lord and his Church the benefit of any doubts we may have when some such case seems too close to call. I stress that the willingness to be believing and accepting in these cases is a very different matter from blind obedience. It is, rather, a loving and knowing kind of obedience.

The English writer G. K. Chesterton once addressed questions similar to those I have raised today. He distinguished among “optimists,” “pessimists,” and “improvers,” as he called them, which roughly correspond to my three levels of dealing with ambiguity. He concluded that both the optimists and the pessimists looked too much at only one side of things, and observed that neither of them can be of much help in improving the human condition, because people cannot solve problems unless they are willing both to acknowledge that a problem exists and yet retain enough genuine loyalty to do something about it.
More specifically, Chesterton wrote that the evil of the excessive optimist (level one) is that he will defend the indefensible. He is the jingo of the universe; he will say, “My cosmos, right or wrong.” He will be less inclined to the reform of things; more inclined to a sort of front-bench official answer to all attacks, soothing everyone with assurances. He will not wash the world, but whitewash the world.

On the other hand, the evil of the pessimist (level two), wrote Chesterton, is not that he chastises gods and men, but that he does not love what he chastises . . . [In being the so-called ‘candid friend,’ the pessimist is not really candid.] He is keeping something back—in his own gloomy pleasure in saying unpleasant things. He has a secret desire to hurt, not merely to help. . . . He is using the ugly knowledge which was allowed him [in order] to strengthen the army, to discourage people from joining it.

In going on to describe the “improvers” (level three), Chesterton illustrates by referring to women, who tend to be so loyal to those who need them.
Some stupid people started the idea that because women obviously back up their own people through everything, therefore women are blind and do not see anything. They can hardly have known any women. The same women who are ready to defend their men through thick and thin . . . are almost morbidly lucid about the thinness of [their] excuses or the thickness of [their] head[s]. . . . Love is not blind; that is the last thing that it is. Love is bound; and the more it is bound the less it is blind. [G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy (Garden City, N.Y.: Image Books, 1959), pp. 69–71.] Perhaps President Harold B. Lee was thinking of Chesterton’s point about women when he used to say, “Behind every great man, there is an amazed woman.”

Chesterton’s arranging of these categories makes me think of one other simple way to compare the differing levels of perspective that people bring to the way they cope with ambiguity. I think of the metaphorical image described in the hymn, “Lead Kindly Light.” At level one, people either do not or cannot see that there are both a “kindly light” and an “encircling gloom” or, if they perceive both, do not see any great difference between the two. At level two, on the other hand, the difference is acutely apparent, but one’s acceptance of the ambiguity between the light and the gloom may be so wholeheartedly pessimistic as to say, “Just remember that the hour is darkest just before everything goes completely black.”

How different are these responses from that calm but honest prayer of level three:
Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom;
Lead thou me on! . . . I do not ask to see
The distant scene—one step enough for me.
[Hymns, no. 112]

May I conclude with a simple little illustration of the response of one who stood at level three. He had passed from level one because his eyes were fully open to the reality, including some of the pain, of seeing things for what they were. Yet he had moved from a level two kind of realism to a third level where his mature perspective permitted what he saw with those wide-open eyes to be subordinated to what he felt in a wide-open heart.

The man in this case is my own father, who died about fifteen years ago. At the time of this incident, he was in his mid-fifties and was very involved in his professional life and in other heavy obligations that frequently took him out of his hometown for several days at a time. He was tired. At a much earlier time in his life, he had served for ten years in a stake presidency and had fulfilled numerous other assignments for the Church. One day his friend Brother Whitehead approached him to say the stake presidency had called him. Brother Whitehead had told the presidency he would accept the assignment only if my father would act as his first counselor.

It is one thing to be called as a counselor in the bishopric when one is young and full of fresh enthusiasm to learn about leadership in the Church, and when one’s time is not heavily committed. One might understandably have a somewhat different attitude at a later time in life. Let me share with you the inner thoughts of my father’s heart as he wrote them that day in his personal journal:
My first reaction was, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me . . . I know something of the work required of a bishopric; it is a constant, continual grind; there is no let up . . . I am busy and my state affairs demand what spare time and energy I have. In some respects I am not humble and prayerful enough; I have not always been willing to submit unquestioningly to all the decisions of the Church . . . but neither do I feel that I can say no to any call that is made by the Church, and so now I add to my first reaction, ‘nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt.’ I will resolve to do it as best I can. There will be times when I will chafe under the endless meetings, but I am going to get in tune with the program of the Church in every way. I do not intend to get sanctimonious, but I know there must be no reservations in my heart about my duties and responsibilities. The work of the Church will have to come first. It will not be hard for me to pay my tithing and attend regularly, as I have been doing that. But I will have to learn, I suppose, to love the Deseret News, or at least the Church Section, as much as I love the Tribune . . . I will have to get to the temple more often . . . I will have to become better acquainted with the ward members and be genuinely interested in them and their problems . . . I will have to learn to love every one of them and to dispose myself in such a way that they might find it possible to feel the same toward me. Perhaps in my weak way I will have to try and live as close to the Lord as we expect the General Authorities to do.

Perhaps my appreciation for understatement and my personal knowledge that my father was an honest man makes that statement seem to me a more striking example of dealing humbly with ambiguity than it really is. But his statement stirs me to want to be as childlike as my education has taught me to be tough-minded—wise as serpents and harmless as doves, I believe the Savior called it.

All I ask, then, brothers and sisters, is that we who go to college may be honest enough and courageous enough to face whatever uncertainties we may encounter, and that we try to understand them and do something about them. Perhaps then we will not be living on borrowed light. We love the Church; we love our faith. We may not understand everything in the universe, but that does not diminish our love. “Love is not blind; that is the last thing it is. Love is bound; and the more it is bound, the less it is blind.” In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
Brigham Young University 1979 Speeches

Love Is Not Blind:
Some Thoughts for College Students on Faith and Ambiguity
Bruce C. Hafen
Bruce C. Hafen was president of Ricks College when this devotional address was given at Brigham Young University on 9 January 1979.

The post Love is Not Blind: Reconciling Faith and Ambiguity appeared first on Mormon Challenges.

Faith has been the subject and quest of billions of people over thousands of years. It has been pursued under the umbrella of many different religions and theologies. It has been gained and lost by some, gained and preserved by others. And some feel they have never found it at all.

Faith was addressed repeatedly by Jesus in various contexts. He often encouraged faith by speaking of His Father and His attributes, of the scriptures and the prophets and of the importance of His Church, it’s foundation of apostles, and the essentialness of the ordinances to be administered under the direction of His Church.

The initial question, when dealing with the subject of faith, is probably faith in whom or faith that what. Joseph Smith taught that to have strong faith, it requires an accurate understanding of the divine attributes of God, that He is our Father and we are His children, that he loves us and is merciful, that He is forgiving and also just, and many other wonderful attributes. Jesus also taught these attributes by exemplifying them Himself.

Notwithstanding, we sometimes have improper expectations of God and Christ. We might expect God to answer our prayers, even when we ask the wrong questions or ask for the wrong things. We might expect God to answer us in a certain way and not recognize His actual answers in another way. We might expect Him to solve our problems or prevent the wrongs in the world. And further, we might expect that God would only inspire or confirm truth for those baptized in His Church. All of these would be improper expectations and could prevent or undermine our faith in God and His gospel as the recipe for lasting and deep happiness.

Jesus also frequently spoke of the prophets and their writings. He knew them well and used them as a defense against the temptations of Satan. He quoted them to His apostles and disciples. But he never suggested that we use them as our role models. If they were to be our role models, why was Peter selected as an apostle even though he would deny Christ three times? Why was Peter selected even though he had negative feelings about gentiles that would require a strong vision to change? Why did Paul the apostle have disagreements with Peter about various matters? Why did Paul and his missionary companion have serious enough disagreements that they had to separate? Clearly, Christ and the Father are to be our role models, and the Prophets and apostles are to point us to them.

Notwithstanding, we sometimes have improper expectations of the scriptures and the prophets. We might expect prophets to know all of the truth or have answers to all the questions, whether or not the subjects might help us draw closer to God. We might expect prophets to be historians, which they are not. Instead, they have come from all walks of life. We might expect them to not be affected by their times and culture, which would be unrealistic. We might expect them to speak out against all the wrongs of their day, notwithstanding the extreme intervention it would require from God to protect them and His people. These improper expectations of prophets and the scriptures can also prevent or undermine our faith in Deity and their gospel as the recipe for lasting and deep happiness.

Jesus chose the apostles, ordained and taught them and sent them out to teach and bless the people. The Church was organized partially and more fully under His post mortal direction. The apostle Paul taught of the various callings, starting with Christ as the chief corner stone and the apostles as the foundation. The ordinances of baptism and confirmation, baptisms for the deceased, and the administration of the sacrament were regularly performed. It was clear that Christ’s Church was to be a community of believers, would be believers and inquirers. It was to be the means of teaching and blessing the people, of bringing them closer to God.

Notwithstanding, we sometimes have improper expectations of Christ’s Church. We think to require that the messages from the pulpit, the classes and the prayers always inspire and feed us. We forget that to worship is to give a contrite spirit and a broken heart and witness of this to God through the sacrament. We forget that worship is more to give than to receive, to share and nurture others instead of requiring it from others. And the Church of Christ provides these opportunities. It places people of different circumstances in close proximity in which we learn to love, to build bridges across our differences. The Church provides the ordinances and the associated covenants to help us become pure and develop these capacities. However, if we fall into the “give to me” or “feed me” wrong expectations of the Church, this can prevent or undermine our faith in Deity and their gospel as the recipe for lasting and deep happiness. We will receive from the Church, but mostly as we give to God and serve others.

Modern day theologian, Terryl Givens, summarizes these concepts by saying that he believes the chief impediments to the development and maintenance of faith are improper expectations of God, of the prophets, and of Christ’s Church. He also teaches that when these improper expectations are corrected, great truths are learned.

As Joseph Smith learned the true nature of God and what to expect of Him, learned the proper role of prophets and the scriptures, and the proper role of the Church to help us worship by giving to God and our fellow-men, Joseph Smith also learned remarkable truths that were revolutionary to the Christian teachings of the mid 1800s. These truths answered challenges with which theologians had struggled for millennia. Professor Givens describes these truths as follows:

1.  Contrary to the long standing beliefs that God was a God without body, parts or passions, Joseph Smith taught that God the Father grieved before the flood. He wept over the condition of His children; their loss of familial love, the violence among His children and their unwillingness to choose Him as their Father and try to follow His ways. Joseph Smith taught of a God that suffers our pains and grief that, in fact, suffered so deeply that He bled at every pore, so deep was His sorrow for all mankind. God’s passions were indeed core to His nature and we need to understand and feel this in order to exercise proper faith and trust in Him

2.  Contrary to common Christian beliefs of his time, Joseph Smith taught that man lived with God in the pre-earth life, and that man, although in a less progressed state, has been eternal. We cannot blame God for creating us a certain way. Instead God takes us and helps us progress from an Intelligence to a Spirit, to a Mortal Body, and finally to a Resurrected Being, glorious or not so glorious, depending on our personal choices.

3.  Joseph Smith taught that, contrary to the universal belief that mankind was responsible for Adam’s fall and transgression, we are accountable and responsible only for our own transgressions or sins. He taught that those who die without the law are innocent and, contrary to all Christendom of his day, such innocent children and adults receive an opportunity for full salvation. And this was through vicarious salvation, such as baptism for the dead (children not requiring such for they were totally clean already) as referred to in 1 Corinthians 15:29.  Joseph Smith taught of a God who had devised the capacity and had the desire to save the entire human family. He taught that there is a way that all of God’s children can be born of the water and of the Spirit, as Jesus declared was required for a man to enter into the kingdom of God (John 3:5). And this was one of the key purposes of God’s temples, to provide vicarious ordinances that the deceased, from the Spirit world, could choose to accept or reject.

4.  Heaven will consist of the most sublime human relationships. Marriage and family can be eternal through temple sealings. But this requires real and deep faith in God the Father and in His Son Jesus Christ. It requires faith in the gospel of salvation through Christ’s atonement and it requires a willingness to listen to the Holy Ghost. It requires humility to pray, to try to pray for the right things so God can answer us without misleading or unduly crutching us. It requires a willingness to make only Christ one’s role model. At the same time, it requires a willingness to follow the counsel of the prophets, to cease trying to find fault with them, but instead to chasten oneself as did Daniel of old before he received revelations from God. It requires that the disciple of Christ live without having all of one’s questions answered and being patient in Christ until answers come in this life or the next, trusting that all the truth will fit together. And it requires that we give of ourselves to God and each other in great kindness and love, that we build the condition of oneness through Christ’s Church.

Indeed, a proper understanding of the nature of God and the eternal nature of man, the proper role of prophets and Christ’s Church is critical to our development and preservation of our faith. We must accept God’s commitment to free agency, that allows us to harm each other, to serve each other and to eventually build Zion (a people pure of heart that are filled with love to be one of heart). We must accept accountability for our own thoughts, feelings and actions. We must chasten ourselves and grow with Christ’s help. We must not try to chasten the prophets. Along the way, through Christ’s Church, the prophets will teach us about the nature of God, how we can become more like Him, and provide us the ordinances and the temples so that we can receive our Father in Heaven’s choicest blessings, the endurance of our most sublime human relationships for eternity.

The post Obtaining and Preserving One's Faith appeared first on Mormon Challenges.

The post “Alone” Trailer appeared first on Mormon Challenges.

In any religious endeavor there are always reasons to doubt along with the reasons to believe. Because religion involves humans at every level here on earth, there are weaknesses in every religion. But there are also virtues and truths in almost all religions or belief systems. Even the New Testament is not shy about revealing the weaknesses of the church at that time. It was not perfect then, so why should we expect it to be now? Latter-day Saints are taught to not take any man’s word for anything, but to study it out in their own minds and test it spiritually. Why not assume that God will lead us to truth in the long run if we are sincere and continue in faith? There is no reason to fear truth, so why not humble ourselves and keep searching, never assuming we know all there is to know about anything?

The post Alone appeared first on Mormon Challenges.

Although the process described above is the most common in decision making meetings of leadership councils of the church, individual situations demand variations as directed by the spirit. The important thing to remember is that the church is directed by Jesus Christ and he has appointed a specific order of revelatory authority. Although a presiding officer strives for as much input as possible from the council, he is the one ultimately responsible for the final decision. Below is an example from the life of Joseph Fielding Smith from the Teachings of the Presidents of the Church lesson manual covering his teachings.

“At one point in Joseph Fielding Smith’s service as an Apostle, the First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve Apostles were engaged in an ongoing discussion about a difficult question. Elder Smith had expressed a strong opinion about the issue. One day President Heber J. Grant, who was then the President of the Church, came to Elder Smith’s office. President Grant explained that after prayerfully considering the issue, he had felt impressed to recommend an action that differed from Elder Smith’s views. Immediately Elder Smith voiced his support for President Grant’s decision. He later declared, “So far as I am concerned, when the President of the Church says the Lord has manifested to him or inspired him to do anything, I would support him fully in that action.”

The post Dictatorial vs. Open, Inspired Council in LDS Leadership appeared first on Mormon Challenges.

Several years ago, my sister and her husband began to experience a crisis of faith. They had started studying the arguments of the skeptics and were becoming persuaded.  They began to question whether the foundational claims of Christianity were true and whether there was a God at all. They frequently came to me with difficult questions. At first, I was reluctant to engage because I did not want to focus all my spiritual energy on negative things. However, my sister and her husband felt that I could not understand them or help them if I did not engage meaningfully in their journey. So for the next 10 years, I read much of what they wanted me to read and tried to provide them with satisfactory answers. I felt like I was playing spiritual “whack-a-mole” — where doubts and questions (the moles) would pop up and I would try to hit them down. With enough study, I could answer many of the questions and doubts that arose, but there were some that I could not. Moreover, the questions never stopped coming. The whole process was like spiritual poison to me. Although I was never shaken in my underlying testimony, I felt sapped of my spiritual strength. It was harder to pray and harder to study scriptures in the right spirit. Then one day, I had an epiphany. People choose to believe or not to believe. The idea initially repulsed me. If faith is merely a choice, then how can I be confident that my faith is based in truth? However, the more I wrestled with the idea, the more I understood that I could choose to feed my faith or I could choose to feed my doubts, and that choice would usually be outcome-determinative. In many ways, my choice to believe is like my choice to love my wife. Love truly is a choice as much as it is a feeling. In saying that I have chosen to love her, I am not saying that I have forced myself into feeling affection for her. Rather, I am saying that in every marriage, there are things the partners choose to do or not to do—to serve each other, to play together, to dream and plan together, and to build a life together. We can choose whether we will focus on each other’s faults (which every partner has) or whether we will focus on the things that brought us together in the first place. We can choose to try to enhance the good in each other or we can choose the opposite. And if I choose to nurture my relationship with my wife, at the end of the day, I do not find myself saying: “Well, the only reason I love her is because I chose to love her -I mean how satisfying is that?” Rather, I find myself saying: “I love her because we have a full spectrum of marvelous experiences together, and we are now welded so closely that we truly are one.” Love fostered in this way is real, and the fact that I deliberately chose to do the things that strengthened the relationship does not alter the depth of my affection, nor does it lessen how meaningful and satisfying the relationship is. The same is true for choosing to believe. I can choose to serve others, to study scriptures, to forgive others, to pray sincerely in my quiet times, to share my faith, to fast, to attend church, to keep promises and to do all the other things that make it more likely that I will have spiritual experiences. I can also look for the hand of God in my life. However, I can also choose to focus my mental and spiritual energies identifying and amplifying my doubts and concerns, and/or I can choose to allow work or other activities to simply crowd out the activities in which God would likely be my companion. If I do choose to believe, at the end of the day, I do not end up saying: “Well, the only reason I believe is because I chose to have faith.” Rather, I have found myself saying: “I have faith because I have had a lifetime of spiritual experiences of all different varieties, and the fact that I deliberately chose to have the developmental experiences that have kept me close to the Lord does not alter the depth of my faith, nor does it alter how fulfilling my relationship with God has become.” We all have choices every day, but the choice to believe or not to believe, the choice to feed one’s faith or to feed one’s doubts, is imbued with deep moral significance. In the end, whether I have faith or not says much more about me than it says about the state of the evidence on any particular point. Thus, I have chosen to build my life on the things I know rather than on the things I do not know, and to choose the light rather than the darkness. In so doing, I have found ample reasons to believe, and I have found joy, direction and meaning in my life.

The post Feeling Lasting, Satisfying Faith. appeared first on Mormon Challenges.