Everything I’m about to say begins with the premise that the Church is true—a phrase I actually don’t like very much. Let me tell you what I think it means for the Church to be “true”—beginning with what it doesn’t mean. For many years, we have done ourselves and our children a disservice by standing at the pulpit and too casually declaring the Church to be true without defining what that means—and by teaching our children to do the same in their testimonies and praising them when they do. The too-little defined notion that “the Church is true” allows people to read all kinds of things into it which they ought not—such as that prophets never make mistakes, or that prophets receive meticulously specific instructions from heaven, or that every policy or program introduced in the Church somehow constitutes doctrine, or that bishops and other local leaders will never offend you because of human error on their part. Those things happen, even in the true Church. In reality, we believe neither in the infallibility of prophets nor in the inerrancy of scripture, including the Book of Mormon—though we do rightfully sustain prophets as seers and revelators (and know that they will not lead us astray in any significant way)—and the Book of Mormon is true.
What does fully equate to “truth” with the Church are its most important teaching and its most important claim—both of which (am a witness) are true—and both of which should allow us to endure imperfections in the Church’s history, leaders, culture, and members, i.e. each other. The most important teaching of the Church is that salvation is through, and only through, Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ is the only way to complete reconciliation with our Heavenly Parents. He is the way to eternal family relationships. He is the only way to personal realization of all that we can ultimately become that is good. The most important claim of the Church is that Joseph Smith, his imperfect humanity notwithstanding, did receive an authority from heaven which is necessary for joining us to Jesus and realizing all the blessings available to us through Jesus. Possession of and stewardship for that essential authority resides today with fifteen living prophets who lead the Church.
Jesus is, in fact, our Savior. And the Church does, indeed, have the authority to bind us to Him, conditioned upon our devotion to Him.
I would like to speak today about the covenants that bind us to Jesus—and about one in particular—and about some of our flaws as members of the true Church—and about becoming a Zion people.
Becoming a Zion people is not an outdated notion from the 19th Century that the Church abandoned when it gave up on the United Order. It should be a major goal for you and me today. Major enough that we are frequently conscious of striving toward it. If we are not one, we are not His. And, quite often, we are not one.
Let me start with three questions about covenants. Every two years, endowed members of the Church should receive two very similar interviews as they seek to renew their temple recommends.
Question 1: What goes through the typical Church member’s mind when he or she hears this question in the temple recommend interview: “Do you follow the teachings of the Church of Jesus Christ in your private and public behavior with members of your family and others?” What should go through our minds? And to what “others” should we think that question is referring?
Question 2: In those same temple recommend interviews, how consciously do we respond to the question: “Do you keep the covenants that you made in the temple?” What covenants? To what did you agree when you were endowed? Specifically. To what did you agree when you were sealed? Specifically.
Question 3: Of the five covenants we make in the Endowment (obedience, sacrifice, the Gospel, chastity, and consecration), which one’s violation most commonly leads to broken marriages?
In my estimation, the law of Chastity receives extraordinarily disproportionate attention in the minds of Church members. The idea that it receives much attention is not, by itself, a problem at all. Chastity is very important and the consequences of breaking the law of chastity are significant and go beyond issues of broken marriages and unintended pregnancies. There’s more to it than that, including personal psychological damage to ourselves and others that is neither well understood nor taught. The real problem is that the other four covenants of the Endowment—and the covenants and commitments of marriage sealings—are too little emphasized because they are too seldom spoken of (including at home to our children), they are too little understood, and they are too seldom the subject of personal introspection.
Recently, this pair of questions was brought to me: Should a young man who indulges in pornography on Saturday prepare, bless, or pass the Sacrament on Sunday? And, whether he should or shouldn’t, what about the young man who treats his mother with unkindness or disrespect on Sunday morning? Should he administer the sacrament? Of course, none of us wants to be acting as the sacrament police. But those two questions should elevate in our minds the importance of being a disciple of Jesus Christ in significant ways in addition to chastity. (As an aside, those who struggle the most with the chastity might do well to focus on the other four covenants of the Endowment and find the strength that comes through them.)
I have told the story ad nauseum of my first experience in the temple and my silent anger at the outset when I realized that nobody had prepared me—at all—for the significance of the covenants I would make. Nobody had told me what the covenants are called, let alone anything about their meaning or scope. Interestingly, and foolishly on my part, I repeated that experience when I went to the temple to be married. You could have asked me five minutes after my marriage what I had just agreed to and I would have said, “Beats me, but I’m married now.”
When I was endowed, I did what, by my observation, many people still do, although I hope none within our stake. I raised my hand and agreed to each covenant as it was presented to me with very little understanding. Of the five laws of the covenants, the law of chastity seemed clear enough to me and probably is to most people. The law of obedience should be clear to us, but sometimes seems not to be. Things get murkier with understanding the law of sacrifice. And then there’s the law of consecration and the question of whether it means anything at all today when we’re only asked to give 10% tithing, the United Order and polygamy have both been terminated, and nobody has asked us to pick up and move to Missouri. What should living the law of consecration actually mean in our lives today?
But the murkiest of all—the one that baffled me the most when I first heard it (which should have been long before I got to the temple—from both my parents and church leaders)—and the one that baffled me the most long after I heard it—is the Law of the Gospel? What is the Law of the Gospel?
In my view, it is the very one, which, either by semi-casual neglect or by outright violation, most often leads to divorce in our homes and to disunity (or “dis-Zion”) in our community.
Let’s start with the simplest and clearest answer to the question of what the Law of the Gospel even is.
In the temple, and in the publicly online Church Handbook, we are taught that “the Law of the Gospel” refers to “the higher law [Jesus] taught when He was on the earth.” Well, where’s the most obvious place to find that? Surely, it begins with the five instances in the last half of Matthew Chapter 5 where Jesus explicitly contrasts the lower law with His higher law. Let’s review those five briefly.
First, he says the low law was to not kill. The higher law is not only to resolve and eliminate anger, but to actively seek reconciliation—not just with those we’re upset with, but with those who are upset with us. “If thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath ought against thee; Leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way; first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift.” Of course, there is an altar here in the chapel. It represents the primary reason we’re here. Before I take the sacrament—and, young men, probably before I administer the sacrament in any way—I need to seek reconciliation with my spouse or children or neighbors or whoever.
Second, he says the low law was to not commit adultery. The higher law is a) to see people correctly—to see their humanity—to see their strengths and struggles—to see them with respect and empathy—and not as objects of sexuality; and, b) it is to keep ourselves on a higher plane, immersed in a higher set of influences in our lives. “If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out” and “if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee.” Instead of spending our time among things that offend the Spirit (and ought to offend us), we should be with those things that are “virtuous, lovely, of good report, or praiseworthy.”
Third, he says the low law was to not “forswear” ourselves. What does it mean to forswear ourselves? It means to break our promises. It means saying I’ll do something that is good and then not doing it. Or saying that I’ll not do something that is bad and then doing it after all. The higher law is to be simple, honest, and transparent—to be without guile. It is to not parse or twist language (whether our own or someone else’s) or get lost in debating what the definition of “is” is, for example. It is to be an open book—naked before the Lord—innocent and ingenuous toward each other.
Fourth, he says the low law was to get even with those who wrong us—to extract an eye, a tooth, or some other pound of flesh from him or her who has hurt us. The higher law is to return right for wrong, kindness for unkindness, compassion for offense. The higher law is to outgrow the childish defense of “Well, he hit me first.” The higher law says that I will act rather than be acted upon. My behavior will not be dictated by your behavior. I will be Christlike toward you no matter how you treat me. Christlike generosity will guide me. (Note that this does not mean we can’t and shouldn’t have healthy boundaries when needed. Sometimes they are.)
Lastly, he says the low law was to love our neighbor and hate our enemies—or, perhaps, to love our friends and not love (or worse) those who are different or who are outside our circles of friendship. The higher law is to love all, including the stranger and those whose ways are unfamiliar to us, even to the point of actively seeking good outcomes for those who might seek bad outcomes for us. To love all as Christ loves all. This is a high law and a high bar, indeed.
One who commits to live the Law of the Gospel makes a large commitment. He or she who actively and consciously strives toward living it becomes a happier person and a much greater blessing to those around him or her, especially to those we live with.
In the temple, we are given a caution, even a strong warning, before we enter into the five covenants, including the covenant to live the higher laws contained in the Law of the Gospel. That caution is that God, as the scriptures say, will not be mocked.
How might I mock God? I mock God when I make covenants with Him that are really not important to me. I do not mock God when my sincere efforts prove imperfect. But I mock God when my efforts are half-hearted or unconscious or when I spend my time going through mental gymnastics to justify certain behaviors by the principles of the lower laws. I mock God when I believe that I am keeping my marriage covenants merely because I have not touched someone else sexually—when there is so much more to the marriage covenant than that! I mock God when I don’t strive to live all five of my Endowment covenants in my marriage and toward my spouse.
Meanwhile, the task of creating Zion is not a currently irrelevant task. Nor is it someone else’s job. It is ours. Today.
For 19th century Church members, this did not go well. The Doctrine and Covenants says they were “chastened and tried, even as Abraham.” Why? Because there were “jarrings, and contentions, and envying, and strifes, and lustful and covetous desires among them.” It’s impressive today that they could create so much disharmony back then without the help of social media, which I imagine Satan really loves today for its creations of jarrings, contentions, envy, strife, lustful desires, and covetous desires.
Sometimes, though, we don’t even need social media. While we may fool ourselves thinking we honor our temple covenants merely by not physically committing adultery, we find ways to generate anger or engender hostility toward our neighbor just because of differences of opinions or different perspectives or merely different demographics.
We ought to return frequently to the Law of the Gospel that we’ve agreed to keep and we ought not mock God by failing to return to it frequently. Here are some simple, practical examples of times we ought to especially step up to the Law of the Gospel…
- When I am on the brink of being unkind—in any way—toward my spouse.
- When my spouse has been unkind to me.
- When I see a kid at school that I have no real connection with.
- When I see a kid at school that my friends or others do or would make fun of behind their back.
- When my little brother or little sister wants to hang out with me.
- When my neighbor displays a political sign in his yard while I display an opposing political sign in mine.
- When my neighbor displays a political sign in his yard and I display none.
- When my neighbor wears a mask to church.
- When my neighbor doesn’t wear a mask to church.
- When my neighbor has a different opinion than I do about Highland City trails—and perhaps when my neighbor has been less than Christlike in his or her expression of his or her opinion.
- When my neighbor appears to be less righteous than me.
- When my neighbor appears to be more righteous than me—or when my neighbor appears to want to appear to be more righteous than me.
- When my neighbor’s Church status—whether fully active LDS, culturally LDS, proudly inactive LDS, Muslim, Christian, Atheist, or anything else—is different than my own.
The Law of the Gospel is about how we see and treat others—especially when our relationship is not naturally one of unity. It is about first being one with the Savior in those instances, and then using my agency to choose His type of response to my spouse, my brother or sister, or my neighbor—and by not allowing the “natural man” instincts within me to govern my behavior. The Law of the Gospel is not a Sunday-only behavior that gets suspended when the topic becomes political or cultural.
When the Savior explained the chastening of the early Saints, He said they were “not united according to the union required by the law of the celestial kingdom; And Zion cannot be built up unless it is by the principles of the law of the celestial kingdom; otherwise I cannot receive her unto myself.”
What might the eternal implications be for you or for me of our being unwilling to live Celestial laws toward each other right now?
Brothers and Sisters, whether you are male or female; married or single; white, black, or otherwise; gay, straight, or otherwise; democrat, republican, or otherwise; vaxxer or anti-vaxxer… Let us in each instance pursue Zion for ourselves and for our neighbors. Let us use our agency to choose the attitudes and behaviors that Jesus would choose. Let us drop our gifts at the altar when we must and seek reconciliation with those we have offended. Let us return kindness for unkindness. Let us love all.
And let us earnestly strive to understand, ponder, and live our covenants—even to the point of building up Zion and loving those very neighbors we haven’t yet learned to love or even to like.
Why should we pursue our covenants so eagerly? Because doing so is the path to personal contentment and goodness, and it is the path to the Celestial Kingdom where Celestial Laws are lived and we are among the beneficiaries.
The Church is true. It is true because it correctly teaches salvation through Jesus and because it actually has the power to bind us to Him, the humanity of priesthood key holders notwithstanding. It is, however, not merely in the entering into covenants through ordinances that binds us to Jesus. It is in our sincere efforts to live our covenants—and not just the Law of Chastity.
If you’re not sure if “the Church is true,” do three things: study the precepts taught in the Book of Mormon, actively strive to live them, and seek to live the covenants extended to us in the temple. When you do those three things, the Holy Ghost will tell you in His way in His time (probably without fanfare, but in a way that you’ll understand), that the Church is true. Once you’ve received that spiritual message, its impact on you will fade as you continue the experience of living in a fallen world full of all manner of temptations and explanations—unless you continue living in those ways that invite the Holy Ghost into your life.
May we learn to understand and keep our covenants, and may we create a Zion community.
In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
A week ago, we discussed salvation being a free gift available to us through the grace of Christ—but one that must be received and, hence, does not come without condition. He requires us to be completely committed—“all in,” as they say. He requires our whole hearts and all that we have and are. Consider:
“And it came to pass, that, as they went in the way, a certain man said unto him, Lord, I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest. And Jesus said unto him, Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head.
“And he said unto another, Follow me. But he said, Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father. Jesus said unto him, Let the dead bury their dead: but go thou and preach the kingdom of God.
“And another also said, Lord, I will follow thee; but let me first go bid them farewell, which are at home at my house. And Jesus said unto him, No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.” (Luke 9:57-62)
For what it’s worth, here’s my translation of the original Greek text in plain Juchau English…
“A random man comes up to the Savior and says to Him, ‘I’m committed to you. I will go anywhere you want me to go and do anything you want me to do.’ To which the Savior replies, That’s great, really great—but you must understand what it’s like to be sincere about being with me. It will not be the least bit easy and there will be little if any rest. You’re going to have to buckle up, big time.’
“Then the Savior says to a different man, ‘Follow me.’ And the man says, ‘Yes, of course, but first I must tend to my father’s funeral.’ And the Savior replies, ‘There are no ‘buts’ in following me. Following me comes first—ahead of the otherwise most important things in your life, including your family. Come now, right now, and help my cause.’
Then a third man says to the Savior, ‘I’m committed. I’m in. But before I really get started, I need to run tell my family good-bye.’ The Savior shakes his head sadly and says, ‘You must not have heard the previous conversation. There are no ‘buts.’ There are no false starts. You’re in or you’re out and if you’re in you’re all in—in which case you’re going to be with me for a long time—otherwise…not so much.’”
The Savior expects this kind of commitment from us. And he expects us to publicize and formalize our commitment through actual covenants made with him in sacred and symbolic rites, such as baptism and others in LDS temples. Through these covenants we promise to follow the Savior, keep His commandments, remember Him always, and steadfastly strive to be like Him. They’re not casual promises—at least they shouldn’t be, which He made clear, Himself, in Luke 9.
Of course, promises made must be promises kept. Or… hmm… how true is that, really? I fell short of perfection well before I promised the Savior that I would strive to be like Him and making those promises didn’t fix all my imperfections, unfortunately. I’m still impatient, rude, lazy, and myriad other bad things much too often. What if I don’t really keep completely my promise to follow His commandments and be like Him?
Well, this is where we come back to the heart. “I, the Lord, require the hearts of the children of men.” He wants our promises to be sincere. He wants our commitment to represent true dedication. He wants us to give our all in frank and honest effort to show that our whole hearts, minds, and souls are with Him. But He knows we will fall short and so He agrees to forgive our follies if we strive with sincerity—and even to forgive our more significant sins if we return our hearts to Him and reset ourselves on the path of honest striving after we have erred. It is the best deal ever offered to anyone at any time.
I cannot earn my salvation. If I had to, it would be utterly hopeless. Only the Lord can give it to me. He will do that if I receive HIm: if I commit to Him and if I am truly sincere and devoted in my efforts to follow Him. If my commitments are real and my efforts sincere, I can enjoy knowing that, in fact, I don’t have to be perfect today (or even tomorrow) and I, along with the Lord, can tolerate with patience the time it takes before He, ultimately, makes me complete. THIS is what living after the manner of happiness is all about. I’m going to swing for the fences, miss, and still circle the bases. He’s going to lead me around them.
[A topic for another day is the formality of those commitments and the authentic authority under which they are required to be made.]