Jacob 1 - That We Might Persuade Them to Come Unto Christ I'm taking an online economics class right now, which prompted me to think of the definition of economics in the context of the scriptures. Economics is the study of the allocation of scarce resources. In the case of Nephi and his successor Jacob, the plates upon which they engraved their record was a scarce resource. They were costly to make and difficult to engrave, and instilling a tradition of passing them through generations was surely cumbersome. Recognizing the great importance of spiritual things and the challenge of maintaining records, Nephi instructed Jacob to prioritize religious instruction saying, " if there were preaching which was sacred, or revelation which was great, or prophesying, that I should engraven the heads of them upon these plates, and touch upon them as much as it were possible, for Christ’s sake, and for the sake of our people" (Jacob 1:4). This priority was not only reflecte...
As part of our family tradition to celebrate Easter, I would like to document my testimony of Christ. Hopefully, by taking a few minutes each Easter to reflect on the things I know and believe about my Savior, I can chart the evolution of my testimony over a lifetime, and offer the most precious thing I have to my children and grandchildren.
What strikes me this year is how rare a possession it is to know Jesus Christ. When there are so many in the world that are agnostic, incredulous, or antagonistic, I feel almost burdened by the blessing I have to know that God lives and that His son literally atoned for my sins. I often wonder why I am blessed to know, and have never found a satisfactory answer. I cannot remember a day in my life in which I have not felt the evidence of His reality. Every day I feel the Spirit resonating through me and amplifying the spiritual dimensions of my life on earth. This is not normal, and I'm grateful. So profoundly and ineffably grateful. These feelings and their transformative power are my proof that He lives.
I am grateful for parents who inoculated me against cynicism, and for my innate comfort with ambiguity. As I've watched my gay friends and family get married, considered the role of women and the priesthood, reconnected with transgender friends, explored uncomfortable aspects of church history, followed the global refugee crisis, thought about loved ones battling cancer, given spare change to the homeless, witnessed sexism, witnessed racism, tried to raise children, and most recently read news stories about sexual misconduct of a church leader, I am in awe of the breadth, complexity, and nuance of the human experience, and the magnitude of God's redemptive work. I know that it is all within scope. This is the plan. The extremities of this world are circumscribed within Christ's power to heal, and all truth is encompassed in one eternal round. Most acutely, I feel that God wants me to love. That others exist simply as objects of my service and empathy. My role is narrow and pure, and I trust in Christ to sort the rest.
I think of Christ as The Architect, The Dancer, The Athlete, The Musician, The Parent, The Manager. He is the exemplar of every worthwhile attribute and endeavor. I see his hand in every beautiful thing, and know we can draw on his power to build better businesses, learn to bake sourdough, or take up calculus.
But what about the weird stuff? Did He really create the earth? Cause a flood? Part a sea? Did He really fasten an whip and drive out moneychangers? Walk on water? Turn water to wine? Did He really die and then reanimate and inhabit His perfected body? Can He make me whole? Yeah, I think so. And I'm willing to bet on the parts I'm not sure about, because He has never left my sincere petition unanswered or held back what I've wanted to know. I'm certain He lives, that His power heals and enables, and that He cares about my life. I'm a flaky and disappointing friend to Him, but He loved me first and won't let me go, so I will keep trying to be as He is. I love Him.
Image Credit: Christ in a Red Robe, by Minerva Teichert
Image Credit: Christ in a Red Robe, by Minerva Teichert
Comments
Post a Comment