III
Our Hope
A friend who is now a minister of a Protestant faith told me a little about his past. His family had joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints when he was a boy. He worked his way through Primary and was ordained to the Aaronic Priesthood. In his teenage years, he told me, a friend of his invited him to a summer Bible camp. There he came into contact with people who had given their lives to Christ and who spoke of the Master and of his cleansing and redeeming power over and over during the week. According to my friend, these were things he had heard very little about in our Church.
He indicated that the Latter-day Saints in his ward were lovely people, caring men and women, who tried really hard to live moral, upright lives. He said that although he had heard little of Christ, he had often heard such words as church and work and duties and commitment. He sensed a devotion to the Savior in his newfound Evangelical friends that he felt was missing among the Latter-day Saints. Consequently, he and other members of his family affiliated themselves with an Evangelical Christian church in their area. He rejoiced that he had “found Jesus.”
I listened to his story very intently and sensed his sincerity. I said soberly, “I’m sorry.”
He replied, “Bob, you don’t need to apologize.”
“Yes, I do need to apologize,” I responded. “I’m sorry you didn’t ‘find Jesus’ in our Church. I’m sorry that for whatever reason the Savior seemed to be difficult to find or hard to recognize. I’m sorry because I have found him, and you could have done the same.”
I know there are those within our faith who might suggest to my friend that perhaps he had been, to use the words of a popular song, “looking for Christ in all the wrong places.” And some might even, in a cynical moment, suggest that there must have been some standard of obedience, some Church requirement, that the family simply didn’t want to follow, and so they left.
I’m in no position to judge this family’s heart or motives, to know what they felt and sensed and what they didn’t. But I do know that our belief in Christ—who he is, what he has done, what he is now doing, what he will yet do, and how central he is to the faith and practices of the Latter-day Saints—must not be just the topic of reverent and private conversations. Otherwise, as someone has wisely suggested, the best kept secret in the Church will remain the gospel!
“Many years ago,” Elder Dallin H. Oaks stated, “a young Latter-day Saint enrolled in a midwestern university and applied for a scholarship only available to Christians. Both the applicant and the university officials were unsure whether a Mormon was eligible. After consulting a panel of theologians, they concluded that this Mormon was a Christian.
“When I first heard of that event over thirty years ago, I was shocked that anyone, especially a member of our church, would entertain any doubt that we are Christians. I have come to a better understanding of that confusion. I think we sometimes thoughtlessly give others cause to wonder. How does this happen?
“For many years I was a teacher of law. A frequent teaching method in that discipline is to concentrate classroom instruction on the difficult questions—the obscure and debatable matters that lie at the fringes of learning. Some law teachers believe that the simple general rules that answer most legal questions are so obvious that students can learn them by independent study. As a result, these teachers devote little time to teaching the basics.
“I believe some of us sometimes do the same thing in gospel teaching. We neglect to teach and testify to some simple, basic truths of paramount importance. This omission permits some members and nonmembers to get wrong ideas about our faith and belief.”1
Our hope and trust cannot be in ourselves, no matter how impressive our credentials or how stunning our achievements. We are mortal, and our imperfections and limitations are only too obvious. Nor must our trust or our hope be in programs, procedures, lists, formulas, or laws of spiritual success. As my friend Sheri Dew pointed out: “The Savior isn’t our last chance; He is our only chance. Our only chance to overcome self-doubt and catch a vision of who we may become. Our only chance to repent and have our sins washed clean. Our only chance to purify our hearts, subdue our weaknesses, and avoid the adversary. Our only chance to obtain redemption and exaltation. Our only chance to find peace and happiness in this life and eternal life in the world to come. . . .
“The Lord knows the way because He is the way and is our only chance for successfully negotiating mortality. His Atonement makes available all of the power, peace, light, and strength that we need to deal with life’s challenges—those ranging from our own mistakes and sins to trials over which we have no control but we still feel pain.”2
Some years ago I sat with my counselors in a bishopric meeting. It was drawing to a close because sacrament meeting would be starting in just ten minutes when a knock came at the door. A young woman from my ward asked if she could visit with me for a moment. I replied that we could chat for a bit, but sacrament meeting would be starting soon. She assured me that she needed only a minute or two.
After we had been seated for a few seconds, she said, “Bishop, I need to confess a sin.” I was startled with the suddenness of the statement, but, managing to maintain my composure, I responded, “That could take some time, couldn’t it? Shall we meet after the block of meetings today?”
She quickly responded: “Oh no! This will just take a second.”
I nodded and asked her to go ahead. She proceeded to describe in some detail a very serious moral transgression in which she had been involved. It was now about one minute before the meeting was to start, so I tried again: “Why don’t we get together after priesthood and Relief Society meetings?”
She answered, “Well, I don’t know why we would need to, unless it would be helpful to you, or something.”
Rather stunned, I indicated that such a meeting might prove beneficial to both of us. She agreed to return.
Three hours later, and after we had exchanged a few pleasantries, I asked her, “How do you feel about what has happened?”
She responded, “Just fine.” I must have shown my perplexity because she added, “For a number of hours I felt bad about what happened, but it’s okay now because I’ve repented.”
I couldn’t ask her the question fast enough, “What do you mean when you say that you have repented?” (She had explained to me earlier that the transgression had taken place on Friday night, and it was now Sunday afternoon.) At that point, she reached into her purse and retrieved a yellow sheet of legal-size paper. Pointing one by one to various headings that began with an R, she said, “I’ve done this, and this, and this, and this, and finally, I’ve confessed to you. I’ve repented.”
“It seems to me that you’ve skipped an R,” I said. “Perhaps your list is missing something.”
A startled but persistent look was in her eyes, and I noted a slight impatience as she said, “That can’t be. I have everything listed here!”
“No,” I insisted, “you’re definitely missing an R. The R you’re missing is Redeemer. You have no place for Christ on your list. I mean, what does Jesus Christ have to do with your transgression? What does what happened in Gethsemane and on Calvary two thousand years ago have to do with what happened to you two nights ago?”
She answered, “Jesus died for me. He died for my sins.”
To almost every question I asked thereafter she gave a perfect answer—at least, an apparently perfectly correct answer. She had been well trained, and her answers reflected an awareness of the doctrines associated with repentance. But the answers were all totally cerebral, straight from memory and mind—not from the heart. She obviously saw no real tie between her own ungodly actions and the infinite actions of a God. We spent a few hours together that day and many days thereafter—searching the scriptures, praying together, and counseling over the way back to the strait and narrow path. We talked often and intently about Jesus Christ.
That was a sobering experience, one that convinced me that we need to be reminded, very often, why in this Church we do what we do. Nephi summed it up: “We talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, . . . that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins” (2 Nephi 25:26; emphasis added).
Since that time, I have formulated my own list of R’s that point my mind to Jesus the Messiah and rivet my affections on him. There is nothing sacred about this list (how many items there are or in what order they appear) except that they direct my own heart to sacred things.
1. Resolving to come unto Christ. Some years ago it was not uncommon to see bumper stickers that read: “Jesus is the answer.” Answers are always much more appreciated when we know the question. As was the case anciently in Alma’s dealings with the Zoramites, so it is today—the great question in the religious world is whether there is a Christ and what role he does or should serve in our lives (Alma 34:5).
Those who labor tirelessly to lighten burdens and alleviate human suffering but at the same time deny that Jesus Christ is God or claim there is no need for a Savior in this enlightened age cannot have the lasting effect on society they could have if they drew upon the spiritual forces that center in the Lord Omnipotent. And those who focus on the moral teachings of Jesus but downplay his divine Sonship miss the mark dramatically. For some, Jesus stands as the preeminent example of kindness, the ultimate illustration of social and interpersonal graciousness and morality. A favorite text for this group is the Sermon on the Mount; their highest aspiration is to live the Golden Rule.
A Roman Catholic philosopher wrote: “According to the theological liberal, [the Sermon on the Mount] is the essence of Christianity, and Christ is the best of human teachers and examples. . . . Christianity is essentially ethics.
“What’s missing here? Simply, the essence of Christianity, which is not the Sermon on the Mount. When Christianity was proclaimed throughout the world, the proclamation (kerygma) was not ‘Love your enemies!’ but ‘Christ is risen!’ This was not a new ideal but a new event, that God became man, died, and rose for our salvation. Christianity is first of all not ideal but real, an event, news, the gospel, the ‘good news.’ The essence of Christianity is not Christianity; the essence of Christianity is Christ.”3
We come unto Christ not only to be taught but to be transformed. He is not only our Example but also our Change Agent and our Benefactor. Jesus is not only a convenient resource but the vital and indispensable element in our quest for happiness here and eternal reward hereafter. There is no hope and no possibility of reconciliation with the Father except by and through the Savior.
Enos wrestled with his sins until he heard the voice of God declaring, “Enos, thy sins are forgiven thee, and thou shalt be blessed.”
“Lord, how is it done?” Enos asked.
The Lord answered, “Because of thy faith in Christ, whom thou hast never before heard nor seen. . . . Wherefore, go to, thy faith hath made thee whole” (Enos 1:5–8).
In the apogee of his agony, confronted and tortured spiritually through the medium of memory, Alma the Younger recorded:
“And it came to pass that as I was thus racked with torment, while I was harrowed up by the memory of my many sins, behold, I remembered also to have heard my father prophesy unto the people concerning the coming of one Jesus Christ, a Son of God, to atone for the sins of the world. Now, as my mind caught hold upon this thought, I cried within my heart: O Jesus, thou Son of God, have mercy on me, who am in the gall of bitterness, and am encircled about by the everlasting chains of death. And now, behold, when I thought this, I could remember my pains no more; yea, I was harrowed up by the memory of my sins no more. And oh, what joy, and what marvelous light I did behold; yea, my soul was filled with joy as exceeding as was my pain!” (Alma 36:17–20).
Indeed, Jesus Christ is the Source of solace. Jesus Christ is the Prince of Peace.
2. Being Reconciled to God through Christ. The Fall brought changes to the earth and to all forms of life on earth, changes both cosmic and individual. In the spiritual realm, individuals began life in a new sphere, a new state, a new kind of being. Whereas in Eden, Adam and Eve had enjoyed the blessings of a terrestrial, immortal condition in which things were not subject to death, after the Fall, in a fallen, telestial earth, all things began their steady decline toward dissolution. From modern revelation “we learn man’s situation at his first creation, the knowledge with which he was endowed, and the high and exalted station in which he was placed—lord or governor of all things on earth, and at the same time enjoying communion . . . with his Maker, without a veil to separate between.”4 After the Fall, however, Adam and Eve “heard the voice of the Lord from the way toward the Garden of Eden, speaking unto them, and they saw him not; for they were shut out from his presence” (Moses 5:4; compare D&C 29:41).
The Atonement is that divine act of mercy and grace and condescension by which our Father and God opens the door to reunion. In and through Adam, we partake of mortality and death. In and through Christ, our Mediator and Intercessor, we partake of immortality and the abundant life. By means of the Atonement, we are reconciled to the Father. By means of the Atonement, the finite is reconciled to the Infinite, the incomplete to the Complete, the unfinished to the Finished, the imperfect to the Perfect. The Atonement, as an act of grace, demonstrates the love of the Father for his children.
Jesus Christ, who lived a sinless and perfect life, claims of the Father “his rights of mercy which he hath upon the children of men” (Moroni 7:27). Jacob reminded us to “seek not to counsel the Lord, but to take counsel from his hand. For behold, ye yourselves know that he counseleth in wisdom, and in justice, and in great mercy, over all his works. Wherefore, . . . be reconciled unto him through the atonement of Christ, his Only Begotten Son, and ye may obtain a resurrection, according to the power of the resurrection which is in Christ, and be presented as the first-fruits of Christ unto God” (Jacob 4:10–11).
3. Being Renewed in Christ. The Book of Mormon is a powerful invitation to come unto Christ and be changed. Indeed, one who chooses Christ chooses to be changed. The plan of salvation is not just a program bent on making bad men good and good men better, though it certainly does that, but rather it is a system of salvation that seeks to renovate society and transform the whole of humankind.
Those who are dead to the things of the Spirit must be quickened, made alive, or born again in order to enter the realm of divine experience. This rebirth is not optional but required. Elder Bruce R. McConkie wrote: “The spiritual birth comes after the natural birth. It is to die as pertaining to worldliness and carnality and to become a new creature by the power of the Spirit. It is to begin a new life, a life in which we bridle our passions and control our appetites, a life of righteousness, a spiritual life. Whereas we were in a deep abyss of darkness, now we are alive in Christ and bask in the shining rays of his everlasting light. Such is the new birth, the second birth, the birth into the household of Christ.”5
The new birth is the means by which “the dark veil of unbelief” is removed from our minds and by which the “light of the glory of God” infuses joy into our souls (Alma 19:6). It is the process by which we “lay aside every sin, which easily doth beset [us], which doth bind [us] down to destruction” (Alma 7:15). It is the only way whereby we can receive the image of Christ in our countenances (Alma 5:14).
This renewal is a conversion from worldliness to saintliness, from being lured by the lurid to being enticed by holiness. It comes to us by virtue of the cleansing blood of Jesus and through the medium of the Holy Ghost, who is the Sanctifier. After hearing their king’s powerful address, the people of Benjamin “cried with one voice, saying: Yea, we believe all the words which thou hast spoken unto us; and also, we know of their surety and truth, because of the Spirit of the Lord Omnipotent, which has wrought a mighty change in us, or in our hearts, that we have no more disposition to do evil, but to do good continually” (Mosiah 5:2; emphasis added; compare Alma 19:33).
The conversion experience was real. It was born of the Spirit. It was of God. Surely as time passed and as the people grew into that meaningful spiritual union with Christ of which the prophets speak, there was little in the world to recommend itself to them, for their desires were to please the Almighty and enjoy his approbation. We do not suppose, however, that the people of Benjamin never sinned again; that was impossible in this fallen sphere. No, they sinned and made mistakes thereafter, but they didn’t want to. And, thanks be to God, we will be judged not only by our works but also by the desires of our hearts (Alma 41:3; D&C 137:9).
The testimony of Alma the Younger is vital. Having lain immobile for three days and three nights and having come face to face with the heinous nature of his sins, he awoke to a new life. Alma “stood up and began to speak unto them, bidding them to be of good comfort: for, said he, I have repented of my sins, and have been redeemed of the Lord; behold I am born of the Spirit. And the Lord said unto me: Marvel not that all mankind, yea, men and women, all nations, kindreds, tongues, and people, must be born again; yea, born of God, changed from their carnal and fallen state, to a state of righteousness, being redeemed of God, becoming his sons and daughters; and thus they become new creatures; and unless they do this, they can in nowise inherit the kingdom of God” (Mosiah 27:23–26; emphasis added).
President Ezra Taft Benson noted that “we must be careful, as we seek to become more and more godlike, that we do not become discouraged and lose hope. Becoming Christlike is a lifetime pursuit and very often involves growth and change that is slow, almost imperceptible.” Then, speaking of the sudden spiritual transformations of such notables as Alma the Younger, Paul, Enos, and King Lamoni, he added: “We must be cautious as we discuss these remarkable examples. Though they are real and powerful, they are the exception more than the rule. For every Paul, for every Enos, and for every King Lamoni, there are hundreds and thousands of people who find the process of repentance much more subtle, much more imperceptible. Day by day they move closer to the Lord, little realizing they are building a godlike life. They live quiet lives of goodness, service, and commitment. They are like the Lamanites, who, the Lord said, ‘were baptized with fire and with the Holy Ghost, and they knew it not’ (3 Nephi 9:20).”6
4. Being Reinstated in the family of God. The Fall distances us from righteousness and alienates us from the family of God. The Atonement provides the means not only for forgiveness of sins but also for reinstatement into the royal family. Benjamin acknowledged this marvelous truth when he commended his people for their willingness to renew their baptismal covenant and come again unto Christ: “And now, because of the covenant which ye have made ye shall be called the children of Christ, his sons, and his daughters; for behold, this day he hath spiritually begotten you; for ye say that your hearts are changed through faith on his name; therefore, ye are born of him and have become his sons and his daughters. And under this head ye are made free, and there is no other head whereby ye can be made free. There is no other name given whereby salvation cometh; therefore, I would that ye should take upon you the name of Christ, all you that have entered into the covenant with God that ye should be obedient unto the end of your lives” (Mosiah 5:7–8; emphasis added; compare 27:25).
Just as a newborn human infant enters a family relationship through birth into mortality, even so the new birth, the birth of the Spirit, becomes an avenue to life within the family of the Lord Jesus Christ. Christ is thus the Father of our awakening into newness of life, the Father of our resurrection, the Father of our salvation. We take his name upon us and seek to be worthy of his holy name. As members of his family, we are expected to know who we are and act accordingly—to keep his commandments with fidelity and devotion and to take seriously our divine birthright as Christians. As the seed of Christ, we hearken unto the word of the prophets, look to Jesus, our Lord, for redemption, and publish peace after the manner of the Prince of Peace (Mosiah 15:11–18). He is the Shepherd, and we are the sheep of his fold. “Behold, I say unto you, that the good shepherd doth call you; yea, and in his own name he doth call you, which is the name of Christ; and if ye will not hearken unto the voice of the good shepherd, to the name by which ye are called, behold, ye are not the sheep of the good shepherd” (Alma 5:38).
5. Relying upon the merits and mercy of Christ. The Book of Mormon teaches that we are saved by merit but that merit is not our own. “Since man had fallen,” Aaron explained to the father of Lamoni, “he could not merit anything of himself; but the sufferings and death of Christ atone for their sins, through faith and repentance, and so forth” (Alma 22:14; emphasis added).
This passage requires a bit of explanation. Of course we are expected to receive the ordinances of salvation, work faithfully in the kingdom, perform acts of Christian service, and endure faithfully to the end. Of course we are expected to do the works of righteousness. These things are necessary—they evidence our covenant with Christ to follow him and keep his commandments. They are necessary, but they are not sufficient.
The prophet Abinadi delivered a scathing denunciation of Noah and his priests, particularly of the manner in which they feigned allegiance to the law of Moses but refused to live in harmony with its moral precepts. Further, he corrected their false impression that salvation could come by the law alone. “I say unto you,” he declared, “that it is expedient that ye should keep the law of Moses as yet; but I say unto you, . . . that salvation doth not come by the law alone; and were it not for the atonement, which God himself shall make for the sins and iniquities of his people, that they must unavoidably perish, notwithstanding the law of Moses” (Mosiah 13:27–28).
Elder Bruce R. McConkie suggested a latter-day application of Abinadi’s words:
“Suppose we have the scriptures, the gospel, the priesthood, the Church, the ordinances, the organization, even the keys of the kingdom—everything that now is down to the last jot and tittle—and yet there is no atonement of Christ. What then? Can we be saved? Will all our good works save us? Will we be rewarded for all our righteousness?
“Most assuredly we will not. We are not saved by works alone, no matter how good; we are saved because God sent his Son to shed his blood in Gethsemane and on Calvary that all through him might ransomed be. We are saved by the blood of Christ.
“To paraphrase Abinadi: ‘Salvation doth not come by the Church alone: and were it not for the atonement, given by the grace of God as a free gift, all men must unavoidably perish, and this notwithstanding the Church and all that appertains to it.’”7
6. Retaining a remission of sins. It is a marvelous thing to know that through the cleansing power of the blood of Christ we may obtain a remission of our sins and thus stand spotless before God. The promise of forgiveness is indeed a miracle, a wondrous act on the part of a merciful and omniloving God. We know we are forgiven as the Spirit of the Lord returns and as joy and peace of conscience fill our souls once more (Mosiah 4:1–3). And yet we stand each day, as it were, precariously on the edge of a cliff—we are subject to subsequent sin. How can we, without trifling with repentance, remain pure?
The Book of Mormon prophets provide the answer. They speak of remaining in a justified condition, of maintaining or retaining our spotless standing before God even though we make mistakes. Like the people of Benjamin, we may err after our covenant with the Master, but we have no desire to do so. That is, our heart, our affections, our desires have all been surrendered unto Christ, and we have no desire to stray from our binding covenant with him. As we endure to the end through living constantly in a state of repentance with an ever-present desire to be transformed in Christ, the Savior holds us guiltless (3 Nephi 27:16; compare D&C 4:2).
Benjamin explained two means by which the Saints are enabled to retain a remission of sins from day to day. First of all, he said, “As ye have come to the knowledge of the glory of God, or if ye have known of his goodness and have tasted of his love, and have received a remission of your sins, which causeth such exceedingly great joy in your souls, even so I would that ye should remember, and always retain in remembrance, the greatness of God, and your own nothingness, and his goodness and long-suffering towards you, unworthy creatures, and humble yourselves even in the depths of humility, calling on the name of the Lord daily, and standing steadfastly in the faith of that which is to come, which was spoken by the mouth of the angel. And behold, I say unto you that if ye do this ye shall always rejoice, and be filled with the love of God, and always retain a remission of your sins; and ye shall grow in the knowledge of him that created you, or in the knowledge of that which is just and true” (Mosiah 4:11–12; emphasis added; compare Moroni 7:42–44).
Acknowledgment of God’s greatness and goodness, recognition of our absolute ineptitude without divine assistance, surrender to the sobering verity that our spiritual condition is bankrupt without the Atonement—these are the necessary conditions for redemption in Christ, the means whereby we retain a remission of sins from day to day. To the degree that we bow in humble reverence before the Lord Omnipotent and trust in his incomparable might, surely to that degree we open ourselves to the sweet enabling power we know as the grace of God.
Second, the means of retaining a remission of sins is set forth by King Benjamin after his lengthy plea to the people of God to care for the needy: “And now, for the sake of these things which I have spoken unto you—that is, for the sake of retaining a remission of your sins from day to day, that ye may walk guiltless before God—I would that ye should impart of your substance to the poor, every man according to that which he hath, such as feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and administering to their relief, both spiritually and temporally, according to their wants” (Mosiah 4:26; emphasis added; compare Alma 4:10–14). Perhaps these two matters are really one—that is, the more we look to the Lord, humble ourselves before him, freely acknowledge his goodness and grace, and strive to be like him, the more we are prone to look to the welfare of our brothers and sisters about us. Being filled with the love of God results in meaningful and lasting service to the children of God.
6. Rejoicing in Christ. Jacob surely sang the song of redeeming love (Alma 5:26) when he gloried in the wisdom, goodness, greatness, justice, mercy, and holiness of our God (2 Nephi 9:8–20). Ammon boasted not in his own strength but in the infinite power of his Lord: “Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things” (Alma 26:12).
I rejoice that Adam fell that we might be (2 Nephi 2:25; Moses 6:48)), and because of that fall, we enter mortality to undertake the second phase of our eternal journey. I rejoice in the Fall, for it called forth the Atonement, the means whereby our hearts might be cleansed and our souls transformed and prepared to dwell with Christ and our Eternal Father. I know of the malady we call the fallen condition and of the heartache that comes to us as we yield to the flesh. I also know of the consummate peace that comes as we strive to put off the natural man through the Atonement and yield to the enticings of the Holy Spirit. For that good news, those glad tidings, I am immeasurably grateful.
All across the world, Latter-day Saints stand and testify that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true. And that is just as it should be. First and foremost, we believe in God. We believe in Jesus Christ. We trust in the powers of the Atonement to reclaim, renovate, renew, regenerate, and reinstate us. We believe that there is purpose to life and that our Heavenly Father has restored a divine plan of happiness by which his children may mature spiritually to the point where they are prepared to dwell with him once again. These truths concerning God and Christ and the plan of salvation are fundamental. They are foundational. They are givens. Thus, when we testify of the truthfulness of the Church, we testify of the God who reestablished it in these latter days and of the Savior who stands at its head.
The Church is the means, the vehicle, for salvation. Through the Church we receive the ordinances of salvation. Through the Church we sing and preach and rejoice. Through the Church we learn to love and serve one another, to contribute to the edification and growth of the body of Christ, to participate in a system of organized sacrifice. But our hope for salvation is not in a system, not in an organization, not in a program, inspired and God-ordained though they may be. Our hope is in Christ. In a world that offers flimsy and fleeting remedies for mortal despair, Jesus comes to us in our moments of need with a “more excellent hope” (Ether 12:32). What Jesus Christ has done speaks volumes concerning what he can do and what he will do for us:
How firm a
foundation, ye Saints of the Lord,
Is laid for your
faith in his excellent word!
What more can he say
than to you he hath said,
Who unto the Savior
for refuge have fled?
When through the
deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of sorrow
shall not thee o’erflow,
For I will be with
thee, thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee
thy deepest distress.
When through fiery
trials thy pathway shall lie,
My grace, all
sufficient, shall be thy supply.
The flame shall not
hurt thee; I only design
Thy dross to consume
and thy gold to refine.
The soul that on
Jesus hath leaned for repose
I will not, I
cannot, desert to his foes;
That soul, though
all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no
never, no never forsake!8
Notes
^1. 1. Oaks, Conference Report, October 1988, 75–76.
^2. 2. Oaks, Conference Report, April 1999, 84–85.
^3. 3. Kreeft, Back to Virtue, 83.
^4. 4. Lectures on Faith, 2:12.
^5. 5. McConkie, New Witness for the Articles of Faith, 282.
^6. 6. Benson, “Mighty Change of Heart,” 2–5; emphasis added.