“…if ye have faith, ye hope…”
Just a quick note here to celebrate a little epiphany I had through the simple wonders of the dictionary!
In our lesson on faith a couple of weeks ago, we included “hope” as one of five things inextricably linked with faith. But, as I admitted to the class, I didn’t really understand that very well because I frequently associate “hope” with things whose outcomes I question and fear. I hope, for example, that I won’t get sick following a couple of nights of inadequate sleep—but I fear that I will. Or I hope that my Mariners won’t give up the tying run in the 8th inning while I type this—but I fear that they will.
How can hope, with all its inherent risks and worries of failure be a component of faith, when faith includes confidence? Well. Turns out I don’t even know what the word hope means.
I Googled “definition: hope.” Up came three definitions (in maybe seven nanoseconds—eight max):
1. A feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen.
2. A feeling of trust.
3. Want something to happen or be the case.
There’s nothing in there about doubt and fear of failure! Then I thought, “I wonder what the word ‘hope’ meant during Joseph Smith’s time.” Of course, Google puts Webster’s 1828 dictionary at our fingertips at the speed of thought. Webster gives two definitions, the first of which includes this helpful explanation as if it were written just for me:
“Hope differs from wish and desire in this, that it implies some expectation of obtaining the good desired, or the possibility of possessing it. Hope therefore always gives pleasure or joy; whereas wish and desire may produce or be accompanied with pain and anxiety.”
His second definition says hope is, “confidence in a future event; the highest degree of well-founded expectation of good; as a hope founded on God’s gracious promises; a scriptural sense.”
So there you go. Or at least, there I go. Hope involves expectation, confidence, wanting something to happen and joy. It is not accompanied by pain and anxiety, two constant conditions of Mariners fans—and two conditions which should not be constants for believing, faithful members of the Church.
Hope and faith are perfectly compatible.
“By this ye may know…”
Let’s start with a multiple-choice quiz question. “How many R’s are there in repentance?” I’ll give you six options to choose from:
- Five: recognize, remorse, relate, resolve, and restore.
- Myriad dozens. To the five above, we could add: realize, regret, recite, report, renounce, restitution, repair, repay, recommit, restart, rely, reform, receive, reconcile, renewal, and on and on and ON… (If you don’t believe me, just try Google. There are at least a bazillion R’s.)
- One. There is literally one “R” in the word repentance. Ha ha
- Zero. There are no R’s in “change.”
- One. There is one “R” in “Christ.”
- Four. There are four R’s in “a broken heart and a contrite spirit.”
I’m really not a fan of the traditional lists of R’s associated with repentance. They certainly have value in helping us identify and discuss important concepts and some of those concepts are extremely important. But they’re often presented as “steps” in the repentance “process,” but the idea of “steps” invites thinking of repentance as a checklist, which seems like a mistake; and the idea of a process, while not incorrect reminds me of a flowchart and moving from one stage to another… which brings us right back to steps and checklists. No good.
I do like simplicity, though. Here are a few simple repentance-related concepts we discussed this last Thursday which seem important.
Christ. Just as Christ must be at the center of our faith if we want our faith to do anything for us salvation-wise, so much Christ be at the center of our repentance. For those who insist on lists of R’s, they key is to relate every R to the Savior. Checklist repentance often omits the most important things: the Savior, his atonement, our relationship to him, godly sorrow that relates to him… If he isn’t at the center of our repentance, our repentance will not work salvation.
Change. If we reduce the definition of repentance to a single word (I like to think that “faith” = “action,” for example), my choice would be “change.” We repent because we sin. Sin moves us away from God. To remedy that, we must change. Three things must change: our hearts (to replace pride with humility and rebellion with submission), our minds (to eliminate the erroneous thinking and rationalization that led us to accept sin as a desirable path), and our behavior (sins of commission must be stopped, sins of omission but be replaced with action; even sins involving thinking require behavioral changes).
Confession. No, I’m not trying to replace the R-words with C-words, but I would like to say three things about confession. First, we need to regularly discuss our sins and shortcoming with Heavenly Father in prayer; we need to ask for forgiveness frequently. Second, when confession to a priesthood key holder is necessary, it is almost always a source of profound and immediate relief—if taken! (Bishops, by the way, are far more inclined to respect and appreciate, rather than be critical of or disappointed in, those who confess sins.) The alternative of shouldering our burden alone is a tragic one—completely unnecessary. Third, confession is best when it is complete. Sort of kind of confessing or mostly confessing is a lost opportunity which lengthens the bearing of the burden and retards healing.
Receiving. This is an R-word I really love. I am often reminded of D&C 88:33: “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.” Faith and repentance work together and faith, by definition, includes confidence. Faith in Christ, includes confidence in Christ. When I combine faith and repentance, I know that sincere efforts to change and correct my ways are received by our Father in Heaven; and I know that because my efforts alone are insufficient, the Savior does indeed make up the difference. I may receive the gift of forgiveness with humble confidence—and humility and confidence in the Savior may very harmoniously coexist.
I mentioned in class on Thursday that I had 13 repentance-related questions to pose for consideration and discussion. Having already commented on some of them above, I present them here as 10 questions. I won’t necessarily claim to know the answers, but if you have ideas, please drop a comment below!
- Which sins must I specifically repent of? Just the big ones? Are some (“smaller”) sins repented of in some kind of batch or general fashion? Do I need to repent for just being human and carnal by nature of my fallen state?
- Is it possible to just repent of one sin at a time? I can’t truly repent of one sin while holding on to another, can I? Is repentance an experience that involves all our sins?
- Sincere repentance includes godly sorrow and some level of pain, does it not? If so, how much work is the Savior doing and how much of it am I doing?
- Should active, worthy members of the Church who are careful covenant keepers also be engaged in daily, active, conscious repentance? If so, how?
- Is repenting of the same thing over and over again really repentance? The Savior commands us to forgive all people, even when they seek forgiveness for the same thing repeatedly. He also said, “As often as my people repent, I will forgive them (Mosiah 26:30).” How does the Lord feel about repeated attempts interrupted by repeated failures? How do we feel about those things we see in loved ones?
- Was the woman taken in adultery repentant? If so, she was definitely forgiven, right? Was she forgiven?
- Was the prodigal son repentant? If so, he was definitely forgiven, right? Was he forgiven?
- How do you convince someone who thinks they’re too far gone for the blessings of the atonement that they are wrong?
- Is it really true that an omniscient God literally forgets our sins when we repent or is that just a figurative expression to indicate that there will be no negative consequences from Him?
- When we repent, what is the actual mechanism that converts our repentance into God’s forgiveness? Is it a decision He makes according to His agency—His grace? Or is it automatic because He is bound?
I know of few things that bring joy and build testimony like repentance. Whether for sins relatively small or large, repentance is a sweet opportunity for each of us right now. Repentance is, in fact, a necessary ingredient for living after the manner of happiness.
Lastly, appreciation to Rod Terry for reminding us Thursday that the Sacrament ordinance each Sunday combines with our faith and repentance and the workings of the Holy Ghost to renew our baptism and its effects each Sunday. Sacrament meeting is sacred. We can indeed walk out of it each week reconciled to God and qualified for salvation, even for exaltation.
“I know the Lord. I am His witness.” Boyd K. Packer
Among the many things I eagerly look forward to in life (like family vacations, children returning from missions, Mariners games, every “next meal,” the opening night of really good movies…) is General Conference. I sometimes find myself between conferences counting the number of weeks to the next one. I love hearing the talks. I love feeling what I feel. And I particularly enjoy the messages from each of the twelve apostles.
As this weekend approached, the thought occurred to me to do a bunch of live tweeting to my army of Twitter followers during conference. That seemed a little weird, though. Instead, I decided to take a cue from Tim’s lesson to the YSAs last Thursday on preparing for conference and blog about it instead.
So here, in bullet format, are the things that resonated with me the most from conference. (This is not intended to be a play-by-play recap, but rather a few points that were especially meaningful to me.) Your list will, no doubt, be different than mine. That’s one of the beautiful things about hearing messages from dozens of inspired church leaders: we can all hear what we need to hear and we can each receive private and personal inspiration. I’d love to hear what words or messages resonated with you.
- I was particularly struck by two concepts raised by Elder Holland. First, he quoted the Savior saying that if our eye offends us we should pluck it out and if our hand offends us we should cut it off. I am reminded that the JST teaches that our eyes and hands are our friends and family. And I am reminded that we must be very careful regarding the level of influence that we grant to others. (Elder Hales also taught that we must be careful who we follow.) Second, he said that the Savior taught vigorously both the concept that we must be generous in our forgiveness of others and that we ought never condone sin. We must be careful about the sinner and the sin.
- I thought it was interesting for a member of the General Relief Society presidency to address pornography. I assume that is because of its horrible impact on wives and families, though there are many good reasons we should all be concerned about it, to be sure.
- Elder Anderson spoke of whirlwinds as challenges that help us grow. Elder Bednar spoke of “loads” that help us get spiritual traction. Muscles grow through resistance; spirits through opposition.
- There is divine purpose in the delayed positive consequences of good decisions and the delayed negative consequences of bad decisions to help us exercise faith (President Eyring).
- Elder Nelson: 50 million people can be wrong and we need to get used to being more starkly in the minority. Our response needs to be to let our faith more starkly show.
- Interesting that both Elder Hales and Elder Perry focused on obedience.
- Quentin L. Cook: we need to emphasize family history and ordinance work with young single adults.
- It’s probably not right to have favorites, but I always love Elder Oaks’ messages and speaking style. Notable ideas (to me) from his talk included: the presiding councils of the Church are not authorized to change the pattern of priesthood offices being held exclusively by men; women acting in their callings act with priesthood authority; the topic of responsibilities should get more play and the topic of rights should get less; quoting J. Reuben Clark: the role of women is as important as the priesthood, itself; and both men and women are endowed with the same priesthood power in the temple.
- I enjoyed Elder Hallstrom’s comments about claims of “that’s just the way I am” being an unnecessary, unproductive, and premature admission of defeat.
- Both Elder Hallstrom and President Uchtdorf spoke in the priesthood session of manhood and addressed selfishness, service/priorities, worthiness/addiction, and Christlike attributes. President Eyring also addressed aspects of manhood, including service and a profound commitment to honesty.
- I enjoyed hearing President Uchtdorf talk about the restoration being an ongoing event and emphasizing that we believe that many great and important things are yet to be revealed.
- President Uchtdorf’s talk about gratitude this morning was a game-changer. Replacing gratitude for things with gratitude as a disposition, a way of life, in whatever circumstances we find ourselves… This feels right! While it is OK to identify and be grateful for blessings, perhaps catching myself thinking of gratitude for things is a chance to check that my gratitude is, additionally, also independent of those things. If Nephi “praised him all the day long” (and Paul and Silas also sang praises while in chains in prison), I can do much better in this area!
- Saturday evening I said to myself, “We haven’t yet heard a talk on missionary work!” And then I immediately thought, “We haven’t yet heard from Elder Ballard!” Well, sure enough, Elder Ballard, who God sent to ensure I am never comfortable (among other, better reasons), spoke on that topic which pierces my soul every six months more than any other. I’ve got to do better with missionary work!!
- President Monson reminds me (as I’ve been reminded numerous times to too-little avail) that I need to see everyone properly—as a child of God and brother or sister—and that I need to see them with empathy and compassion and be kind. If I could just be more kind to everyone for heaven’s sake!!
- I could not help but get excited to hear that Elder Corbridge would be speaking, since he gave a few years ago what has become my all-time favorite conference talk. It makes sense that he would follow up his powerful testimony of the Savior with a powerful testimony of Joseph Smith, careful to place Joseph and the Savior in their proper relationship. Again, I enjoyed his style very much. And I enjoyed his list of eleven (by my count) key teachings that uniquely came to light through the Prophet.
Now, to try to become a better person and not let these ten hours fail to change me…
“If any man will do… he will know…”
It was said by the writer of Hebrews (which, if I understand correctly, may or may not have been Paul), that “faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” I’ve been hearing that phrase for decades and wondering what, exactly, it means. With the help of this Thursday’s YSA seminar, I think I’m getting closer.
Our LDS Bible Dictionary (which I am guilty of underutilizing) associates at least five things with faith:
- hope (of things unseen)
- confidence (or “assurance of the fulfillment of the things hoped for”)
- action (“true faith always moves its possessor to some kind of physical and mental action”—the “and” in that sentence is noteworthy)
- power (“when occasion warrants”), and
- belief (probably the most obvious—but not the only!—element of faith)
Further, the Bible Dictionary clarifies that “true faith must be based upon correct knowledge” and that if it is to “produce salvation,” faith “must be centered in Jesus Christ.”
So if I fail to hope and believe with confidence or if I fail to act on what I believe, my faith is (partially or entirely) absent or it is a type of false faith. Further, if my faith is based on something that isn’t true, it may still be faith, but it is not true faith—and if it is not centered on Christ, it will neither bring about a remission of my sins nor my salvation.
It is interesting to distinguish between “correct knowledge” and “perfect knowledge.” Alma taught that “faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things.” (Alma 32:21) The thing I believe in and act upon must be correct—and I must have a reason to believe it is correct, otherwise it could not be considered knowledge. (And heaven knows we do not believe in blind faith.) Yet my knowledge must be in some way imperfect, lest it be “perfect knowledge” and faith no longer present.
This confirms the idea that faith and agency are—as are testimony and agency—connected. Neither faith nor testimony involves perfect faith, so there is a strong element of choice involved with both. In fact, we come to earth to use our agency to choose faith—faith in redemption and even exaltation through Jesus Christ. In short, we must have reasons for what we believe and exercise faith in, yet those reasons will not be perfected to the point (in this life, at least) at which they squeeze out uncertainty and, hence, choice.
What is a bit baffling to me is why Evangelical Christians are so good at declaring their salvation with firm (to say the least) confidence whereas if you ask a Mormon “Have you been saved?” the answer is often a look of shock, confusion, uneasiness, or embarrassment. Why do we lack the willingness to answer that question positively? Is our faith in Christ partially or entirely absent?
Well, an easy answer is because none of us—Evangelical, LDS, or otherwise—is yet literally and permanently standing in God’s presence, so we cannot factually say that it has happened already. But Mormons struggle with that question even if it is placed in a future context: “How confident do you feel that, if your life ended today, you would end up exalted in the Celestial Kingdom after the Judgment?” Would it be inappropriate for me to look you in the eye in response to that question and answer firmly, “Completely confident”? I don’t think so. In fact, I think we usually ought to and that true faith even demands it (provided I’m not in violation of my covenants—which does not mean that I’m perfect).
So where does confident, assured faith come from? Well, the Bible Dictionary says it comes from learning (“hearing the testimony of those who have faith”) and doing (“obedience to the gospel”). It stands to reason that we must learn about something before we can believe in it and that the more we learn about it and understand it, the greater our reasons may become for believing in it. But learning must also be accompanied by action. Faith is not faith without action; faith without works is very much dead; and without action our learning becomes seriously obstructed.
So as my friend Newell recently taught me, it is a cycle: if I am willing to experiment and exercise faith in something I’ve learned by acting on it, through that action I will learn more, which learning will prompt me to act more, which will in turn teach me more, and so on and so on and so on. There is a “virtuous cycle” of learning and acting and being obedient to what we learn. But when I cease either learning or acting correctly on that learning, I cease spiraling upward and commence sliding backward into a spiral descent.
Jesus taught clearly and succinctly the relationship between faith and action and learning and doing: “If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine….”
Learn. Do. Exercise agency through hope and belief. Exercise confidence and a sense of assurance in that hope and belief. And power will follow—if, when, and as needed by our Father in Heaven—but in any event to the producing of our salvation if our faith is centered on Christ.
Such faith is liberating. The alternative of “faith in nothing” leads to hopelessness. And the alternative of “faith in myself” leads to high stress, a lack of assurance, and ultimately failure. Faith in Christ, however, including acting on it as best we can, results in confident assurance.
So with respect for my Evangelical friends who don’t believe me and for my Mormon friends who think such statements are inappropriate… I, for one, am not yet saved. But I’m going to be. And you can bank on it.
On Growing Up
I sure am glad that my parents encouraged me (and my siblings) to grow up.
I think I was about ten years old when I got my first job: delivering The Northshore Citizen to maybe 50 or 60 homes in our neighborhood every Wednesday morning. Seems like I split the job with my sister, but my early-onset Alzheimer’s leaves me a little uncertain. Wasn’t long after that, though, that I definitely got my own daily route. I spent about four years unwittingly distributing a lot of liberal propaganda (known then and now as The Seattle Times) to my neighbors, most of whom probably appreciated it (the propaganda, that is).
“Daily,” of course, meant daily: 365 days a year. Mercifully, there were three or four of them each year on which I made it home dry. I remember the dark, wet night I stepped on a nail as I ducked under some dripping rhododendron bushes to get to the Harkenon’s house. It was hard to tell if that sucking sound (and feel) was the nail coming out of my foot or my sneaker coming out of the mud. Saturdays and Sundays—and every Christmas and New Year’s Day (thank goodness for sobriety)—were delivered in the mornings. Nothing like a 5 a.m. wake-up call every weekend morning to try to make an old man out of a young man. School seemed like a pretty desirable place compared to delivering papers in the cold, dark, and rain.
When I was fifteen, my buddy Jeff (who already had a driver’s license) and I were on our way to a church softball game. (I often played catcher and not particularly skillfully. He sometimes enjoyed a little too much watching me get blown up on the occasional play at the plate. We had a competitive stake.) Anyway, he needed to stop by his workplace—as a dishwasher at the prestigious Inglewood Country Club—to pick up his check, since his Trans Am drank a lot of gas. Curious to see the insides of such a posh place, I went with him. Before long, we found his crusty old boss, who summarily dismissed him (on suspicion of breaking some rules, which Jeff vehemently denied) and then looked at me, squinting narrowly, and said, “Son, you want a job?” I said, “Sure,” and after the game Jeff dropped me off for my first night of work.
Those nights cleaning up after country club party-goers sometimes ended at two or three or even four in the morning, depending on how late the evening’s festivities lasted. Calling and waking my parents for a ride home at such hours seemed a bit much—and they rather agreed—so I usually walked. It was just a couple of miles (but, yes, it actually was uphill). The inevitable rain seemed to cleanse my spirit to a certain extent—and that wasn’t all bad after spending the evening in a country club bar kind of environment.
That job didn’t last long, though, as I soon got hired by Jeff’s brother-in-law to work at his art and picture framing store. I cut frames, glass, and mattes—mostly tens of thousands of mattes—after school and full-time in the summers for about three years. Some Saturday mornings (yes, 5 a.m., again), he took us waterskiing. And…
Well, the story of jobs just keeps on going, but I’ll quit boring you. The point is: my parents encouraged responsibility, financial independence, and, to a large extent, emotional independence from my early years. They also encouraged independent thinking, thankfully, but that’s a story for another day.
Of course, there were also chores growing up. (By “growing up,” I’m referring to the 14-year period we were given to turn 18 years old.) Tuesday nights were mine to do the dishes. We actually had a dishwasher, but we never used it. My parents said it was broken, but years later, I’m increasingly suspicious about just how broken it really was. When I was eleven or twelve or so, my mother taught me how to do laundry. I had a hard time remembering which colors to wash in which temperatures, so I made a chart and nailed it to the wall of our unfinished laundry room. It hung there for probably close to 30 years.
My biggest chore, though, may have been our vegetables. (And by “vegetables,” I am not referring to the three rows of our model vegetable garden I was expected to weed every day of the summer.) Mother served at least two vegetables at every dinner and the rule was you had to eat two of them and no less. I’m pretty sure the zucchini, lima beans, spinach, and occasional brussel sprouts were all calculated to be encouragement for us to achieve independent living at the earliest possible age.
Leaving home and going to college was a foregone conclusion. I don’t recall ever considering an alternative. My older brother went off to college after high school. So did my older sister. Three months after graduating from high school, my parents drove me down to Provo, where, believe it or not, I met my new roommate, Shannon. Shannon, you’ll be relieved to know, was not only male, he acted and sounded a lot like Rocky Balboa, only more educated. I wrote my parents a letter most weeks and called home some weeks. When my freshman year was done, I went home and cut another gazillion mattes before leaving on my mission. The rule was you needed to pay for everything you could.
My mother has never forgiven me for this (though having conspired with my father to turn me into an independent adult at an early age, she really has no one to blame): after my mission, I was home for a week and then never lived at home again. And that’s not because I disliked my home or my family—I come from the greatest family on the planet! And who doesn’t want to live 15 minutes from Dick’s Drive-In and 30 minutes from the Seattle Mariners?! It was just time to be the autonomous adult they’d taught me to be.
Why do I mention all this? Well, last Saturday Becky and I were asked to teach a class on helping young women prepare for adulthood—college, missions, the temple, career, marriage, etc. So I’ve been thinking a lot about the role parents play in helping their children become successfully independent—which I guess I would define as having both an understanding of how to live after the manner of happiness and the desire and motivation to independently do so. (Which seems easier to do if you have some practice at it before the actual moment arrives.)
As I mentioned to one of the classes Saturday, I think it is common for young children in our church to hear about “families being together forever” and picture themselves in heaven as little children with their loving parents forever with them and taking care of them, maybe even holding them. I think, though, that there may be parents with the same vision, hoping against wisdom that little Johnny and Suzy will stay their little Johnny and Suzy forever and continuing to nurture an environment that will keep them physically, emotionally, or financially dependent. It seems my parents tended to see me as the adult I would become more than the child I was—and, like I said, I’m glad they did.
In the family Becky and I lead today, we don’t speak so much about achieving emotional, spiritual, and financial independence (though everyone understands that’s the goal; it’s even written in our family plan) as much as we talk about “building character.” Most things that our kids should do but don’t want to do are about (at least as they hear it from us) “building character.” Truth is, we’re trying to build independent adults who know God’s plan and can independently achieve happiness and who have as much character as they are willing to develop.
A favorite scene from five or six years ago gives me great hope. It was early on a weekday morning in the middle of the summer, maybe 6:30 or 6:45. Must have been July. It was one of those nothing-but-blue-sky Utah summer mornings that starts out quite warm. I was getting ready to go to work and, for some reason, glanced out the bedroom window which faces our backyard. There was our son, bent over pulling weeds in our, well, modest vegetable garden. He’d figured out that the faster you get your work done, the cooler the temperature you can work in and the more quickly you can start playing. I suppose the bad news is that our kids won’t be kids forever. But if my parents were right, that’s actually the good news.
Living "after the manner of happiness" 