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...
Each year at Easter Bren and I celebrate by recording our testimonies of Jesus Christ. Each year they are different and each year brings out new depth and nuance to the reality of His life and the miracle of His atonement.
This year as I taught our children more about Jesus and the events that took place during the last week of His mortal ministry, I was acutely aware of how willingly they believed what I was teaching them. They accepted as absolute truth the paintings I showed them, the stories I told them, and the video representations we watched together. The weight of my role as a parental gave me pause as I considered the impact these teachings would have on their lives. How can I be sure that what I am teaching them is true?
Parents tell their children half truths all the time without any dire ramifications. The Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, Leprechauns, and the Elf on the Shelf are all innocent enough. But for a moment I thought, "What if none of this is true?" What if all of this is just a beautiful, kind-hearted fairy tale designs to help us behave. I stared more closely at paintings portraying the Savior's life and wondered, "Are these just illustrations in the greatest bedtime story ever written?"
There are no first-hand accounts of many events in the New Testament. Mary and Joseph did not keeps journals, at least not that we know of. How do we know the details of Christ's forty days in the desert, or the precise words he uttered in his intercessory prayer. These events were recorded years after they happened based on verbal accounts, and have been relayed through countless retellings and translations over the course of two millennia. Even accepting that every word is true, the scriptures omit far more than they could possible record about the life of Jesus and His gospel.
Said another way, this year I realized that I do not know what my Savior's face looks like. That even the most confident strokes of a master painter's brush can only capture an imagination of Him. I guess it shouldn't matter, but somehow the realization that none of the hundreds of representations I have seen of him could be His actual likeness saddened me.
I long to see Him again. And although I have forgotten the shape of His face, I have seen my salvation. I have felt it by the power of the Spirit on mountain trails and staring at waterfalls, in classrooms and concert halls, in my car on the way to work, or watching the sunrise from my office. I have found it in hundreds of prayers, in countless bursts of insight and comfort. I have felt it wash over me in the temple, and on this day while taking the sacrament. Just as it did in a nothing town in the desert two thousand years ago, salvation happens in quiet, private moments. I have experienced a universe of the Spirit that no one else, not even Bren, will ever be privy to. This is my treasure. This is what I cannot deny. This is how I know Him. This is how I know that these events literally took place, in the intimate settings of country hillsides, synagogues, gardens, and a borrowed tomb.
We see dimly, making out only the vaguest outline of the shadows recorded in sacred texts. But the whispers of my God in the private chambers of my heart reverberate and crescendo into a symphony. I know Jesus Christ lived and died for me and is my literal Savior. I know he has power over heaven and earth and is mighty to save. I have experienced the transformative power of His gospel in my life and it is the thing I am most sure of.
Image Credit: The Resurrected Jesus Christ, by Harry Anderson
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