Chapter 7

What Faith Is

The increasing challenge each of us faces is to have and enjoy the benefits and blessings of faith in a day of relative unbelief. Few things are as desperately needed in our day as faith—faith in the unseen, faith in God’s care, faith in the future, or as one astute observer of Christianity noted, “faith that bridges the chasm between what our minds can know and what our souls aspire after.”1 Faith is not whimpering acquiescence, not timid and spineless hope for happiness. Faith is active. Faith is powerful. Faith is based on evidence, the kind of evidence that men and women acquire who search and pray and open themselves to the Infinite, who refuse to yield to cynicism or arrogance.

Faith in Jesus Christ

Though we need not be simpleminded to have faith, we may need to be simple in our approach to life and its challenges in order to enjoy the fruits of faith. How open are we today to simple belief? Just how believing are we? How would we respond to miracles as in days gone by? The late Roman Catholic journalist Malcolm Muggeridge wrote: “In humanistic times like ours, a contemporary virgin—assuming there are any such—would regard a message from the Angel Gabriel that she might expect to give birth to a son to be called the Son of the Highest as ill-­tidings of great sorrow and a slur on the local family-planning centre. It is, in point of fact, extremely improbable, under existing conditions, that Jesus would have been permitted to be born at all. Mary’s pregnancy, in poor circumstances, and with the ­father unknown, would have been an obvious case for abortion; and her talk of having conceived as a result of the intervention of the Holy Ghost would have pointed to the need for psychiatric treatment, and made the case for terminating her pregnancy even stronger. Thus our generation, needing a Saviour more, perhaps, than any that has ever existed, would be too humane to allow one to be born; too enlightened to permit the Light of the World to shine in a darkness that grows ever more oppressive.”

Muggeridge asked, “Are we, then, to suppose that our forebears who believed implicitly in the Virgin Birth were gullible fools, whereas we, who would no more believe such notions than we would that the world is flat, have put aside childish things and become mature? Is our skepticism one more manifestation of our having—in [Dietrich] Bonhoeffer’s unhappy phrase—come of age?”2

What does it mean to have faith in the Savior? The epistle to the Hebrews contains perhaps the best-known definition: “Now faith is the substance [JST, “assurance”] of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1). Alma stated this truth slightly differently: “Faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things; therefore if ye have faith ye hope for things which are not seen, which are true” (Alma 32:21). As followers of the Christ, we strive with all of our hearts to be worthy. Those who have tasted of the heavenly gift and enjoyed the sweet fruits of gospel living want more than anything to become, some day, some time, holy people. But we fall short. We make mistakes. We sin. And so we are not completely righteous. To put it another way, we are not, as a result of our own actions, just.

Theoretically, there are two ways a person could be just—meaning declared or esteemed innocent, guiltless, free from the demands of divine justice, to be in a proper standing, a proper relationship with God. First, he or she could live life perfectly, never taking a wrong step, never deviating one iota from the strait and narrow path. In such a case, it could be said of that person that he or she was justified by law or by works. It would be a glorious thing to be in such a state, would it not? The problem is that such a situation is purely hypothetical, for, except for Jesus, neither the greatest prophet nor the mightiest apostle has ever traveled life’s paths without error or sin of some kind. It may be possible hypothetically, but it is impossible practically. That is what the prophets through the ages meant when they taught that “by the law no flesh is justified” (2 Nephi 2:5; compare Romans 3:20; Galatians 2:16).

The apostle Paul warned the Saints in his day about trying to establish their own righteousness, as the Jews had sought to do through their strict observance of the law of Moses: “Brethren, my heart’s desire and prayer to God for Israel is, that they might be saved. For I bear them record that they have a zeal of God, but not according to knowledge. For they being ignorant of God’s righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God. For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth” (Romans 10:1–4; emphasis added). In the ultimate sense, as Jesus taught the lawyer, “There is none good but one, that is, God” (Matthew 19:17).

Paul put his own remarkable accomplishments and earthly attainments into perspective when he wrote: “I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ, and be found in him, not having mine own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith” (Philippians 3:8–9).

This statement by Paul points toward the second way that we may become just—by faith. Faith is the total trust, complete confidence, and ready reliance upon the merits, mercy, and grace of Jesus Christ for salvation. It is a gift of the Spirit (1 Corinthians 12:9; Moroni 10:11), a divine endowment that affirms to the human heart the identity of the Savior and his redemptive mission. Though we might speak of faith in a broad sense as the underlying reason why people live and move and go about their daily activities, the principal and primary faith of which the scriptures speak is faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.

Because of the Fall, humanity is alienated from the Father and from things of righteousness; all are subject to spiritual death (Alma 12:16, 32; 42:9). No matter how noble their own efforts to overcome spiritual death, to love and serve others, or to keep the commandments of God, men and women will forevermore fall short of the divine standard. Their works, though acceptable to God, will always be insufficient to save them (2 Nephi 25:23). In short, had there been no means of bridging the chasm between sinful humankind and a sinless God, nothing that any human being could do would make up for the loss. Thus, there is a need for some means to reconcile finite mortals with the infinite Deity, to repair the breach between earth and the heavens. Because “all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23), we cannot be justified by law or by works. Our only option is to be justified by faith, to turn to, confess, and trust in One who did in fact keep the law of God perfectly. It is only through the name of Jesus Christ—meaning his power or authority, his atoning mission and work—that salvation comes to the children of God (Acts 4:12; 2 Nephi 9:24; Mosiah 3:17; 26:22; Alma 22:13; Helaman 14:13). In the words of Amulek, the atonement of Christ “bringeth about means unto men that they may have faith unto repentance” (Alma 34:15).

In a day awash in cynicism and a time engulfed in doubt, to have faith in Jesus Christ is to believe that he was born of the virgin Mary; that from God the Father he inherited immortality, the capacity to live forever; that from Mary he inherited mortality, the capacity to die. To have faith in Jesus Christ is to believe that Jesus was fully human, that in coming to earth and assuming a physical body, the Almighty Jehovah, the God of Adam, Enoch, and Noah, came to know by personal experience just what it was like to experience disappointment, rejection, alienation, bitter irony, pain, and sorrow. Christ Jesus “humbled himself [literally, ‘emptied himself’], and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross” (Philippians 2:8). To have faith in Jesus Christ is simultaneously to believe that he was fully God, that there was no quality, no virtue, no divine characteristic missing from his nature. To have faith in Jesus Christ is to believe in his atoning sacrifice, that he “descended in suffering below that which man can suffer; or, in other words, suffered greater sufferings, and was exposed to more powerful contradictions than any man can be. But, notwithstanding all this, he kept the law of God, and remained without sin.”3

To have faith in the Lord Jesus is to trust him. How so? How do we come to trust someone in this life? What does it mean to say that I trust my wife, Shauna? I trust her in that I know she loves me, that she knows me well enough to understand my heart, my deepest desires and longings. I trust her in that I know she knows, only too well, my weaknesses and my inclination to be less than I should be, and yet she displays the patience and long-suffering that is so often required on her part. I trust her because she is ever ready and willing to forgive me. I trust her in that I know I can share with her my heaviest burdens, my darkest moments, my lingering doubts, and know that she will think no less of me. Finally, I trust Shauna because I know that ours is a winning team, that our companionship blesses and elevates my life and makes me so much more, so much better, than I would be on my own. Further, I have confidence in her in that I know she will always come through. And heaven only knows how much I rely on her wisdom and judgment, her discernment, and her unending devotion and loyalty.

“Too often we construe faith in the Lord,” Elder Neal A. Maxwell noted, “to mean only the acceptance of His existence, an acknowledgment that He is there. What is wanted, since He is there, is our trust in Him, including His plans for us. Let us not complain of large classes in this mortal school when, at the same time, we consistently decline His offers to tutor us privately.”4

Faith in Christ’s Church

As we have mentioned, we live in fascinating but scary times. Millions upon millions have walked away from organized religion, have declared themselves “nones” and “dones,” have chosen to define themselves as “spiritual but not religious.” Some suggest that rather than attend church, they can draw close to the Almighty in the mountains while paddling their canoe on a stream or lake and absorbing the beauty of nature. They are fully persuaded that spirituality is completely personal and has little or nothing to do with a religious organization. Don’t get me wrong: I love the mountains, delight to be out on the river, and few things are more relaxing or therapeutic to me than returning to nature. And I am drawn to the need to deepen my communion with the Infinite. Too often, however, this state of mind presumes that we can make our way along the strait and narrow path on our own terms, supposedly by simplifying things, by taking the quick and easy route.

The fact of the matter is that we need the Church. Sister Bonnie L. Oscarson, Young Women General President, declared: “We believe that this Church is more than just a good place to go on Sundays and learn how to be a good person. It is more than just a lovely Christian social club where we can associate with people of good moral standing. It is not just a great set of ideas that parents can teach their children at home so they will be responsible, nice people. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is infinitely more than all of these things.”5

A lack of formal church organization eventually results in chaos, in individuals becoming their own priest and prophet, their own scriptural interpreter. We need the fellowship, since true Christianity is always lived out in community, in a body of believers who labor to establish Zion. We need the ordinances (the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, as well as the priesthood authority to baptize, confer the Holy Ghost, ordain, endow, and seal). We need the teachings and precepts that come from doctrinal instruction and discussion; we are saved no faster than we get knowledge, the Prophet Joseph told us.6 And we need the leaders of the Church, both general and local—yes, for their supervision and direction, but also to obtain that divine power and strength that come through humbly acknowledging and following the counsel of those holding the keys.

It is inevitable in a lay church like ours (and that is exactly what the first-century Christian Church and the early restored Church were), that we will come face to face with differences in point of view, oddities and peculiarities, and even serious mistakes. It is hard to imagine that a member of the restored Church would not have several occasions during a lifetime when decisions were made with which he or she disagreed; when policies or procedures were put in place that rubbed him or her the wrong way; when the leadership style of a new bishop or stake president made him or her extremely uncomfortable. That comes with the turf of mortality, doesn’t it?

We must remind ourselves frequently that God calls his prophets. Being called as a general authority, however, does not elevate one above mortality. President Dieter F. Uchtdorf declared: “Some struggle with unanswered questions about things that have been done or said in the past. We openly acknowledge that in nearly 200 years of Church history—along with an uninterrupted line of inspired, honorable, and divine events—there have been some things said and done that could cause people to question. . . .

“And, to be perfectly frank, there have been times when members or leaders in the Church have simply made mistakes. There may have been things said or done that were not in harmony with our values, principles, or doctrine.

“I suppose the Church would be perfect,” President Uchtdorf observed, “only if it were run by perfect beings. God is perfect, and His doctrine is pure. But He works through us—His imperfect children—and imperfect people make mistakes.”7

In the meridian of time, when Jesus had selected, prepared, and ordained his chosen apostles, he sent them out to carry the good news that the Promised Messiah, the Hope of Israel, had arrived, that the kingdom of God was now among them. These noble apostles were commissioned to bear solemn witness to the known world that peace and joy in this life and eternal reward in the life to come would depend on their willingness to receive this Messiah, receive the requisite covenants and ordinances, and put first in their lives the things pertaining to the kingdom of God. Jesus was their Principal, and the apostles were his agents. In our dispensation the Lord declared: “Wherefore, as ye are agents, ye are on the Lord’s errand; and whatever ye do according to the will of the Lord is the Lord’s business” (D&C 64:29).

Moreover, the Master uttered these unusual words: “He that receiveth you receiveth me, and he that receiveth me receiveth him that sent me” (Matthew 10:40). That is, the Principal sent his agents into the world to represent him, to speak his words and deliver his message; their word was to be interpreted as his word. Theirs was a divine investiture of authority, Jesus’s authority, which, of course, was the authority of God the Father. Earlier the Lord had explained to these agents that “when they deliver you up, take no thought how or what ye shall speak: for it shall be given you in that same hour what ye shall speak. For it is not ye that speak, but the Spirit of your Father which speaketh in you” (Matthew 10:19–20; emphasis added; compare D&C 84:36–37). In our dispensation, a similar message, poignant in its implications, was delivered to Thomas B. Marsh, at the time he was serving as President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles: “Whosoever receiveth my word receiveth me, and whoever ­receiveth me, receiveth those, the First Presidency, whom I have sent, whom I have made counselors for my name’s sake unto you” (D&C 112:20; emphasis added).

Decades ago, my mentor and friend Bob Matthews remarked to me that “the great tendency in the religious world and with religious scholars is to be just one dispensation behind!” That’s a terribly astute observation. Thus to receive Peter, to listen to his message, and abide by his counsel was to listen to and obey the Lord Jesus, Peter’s Principal. To give ear to what the apostle Paul had to say throughout Italy, Greece, and Asia Minor was to attend carefully to the words of the One who had struck down and turned around Saul of Tarsus on the road to Damascus. To spurn the message of Simon Peter or to ignore or even take lightly the oracles of his apostolic colleague Paul was to turn a deaf ear to the Lord and God of both Jew and Gentile, of both the living and the dead.

On more than one occasion when I was a missionary serving in the Eastern States Mission, we had the privilege of hearing from President Harold B. Lee, then a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. Elder Lee traveled to New York City frequently to attend meetings of boards on which he served, and he would often stop by the mission home, meet with our mission president, and spend time with the missionaries. One bit of his counsel was especially meaningful to me: “Elders and Sisters,” he said, “I sense that not all of you have the kind of testimony that you would like to have. I sense that some of you are a bit hesitant to say with boldness, ‘I know.’ Well, let me say this: If you don’t know for sure, then you lean on my testimony, for I do know.” I always felt something profound in his simple words: I knew he knew; he knew in ways I couldn’t really comprehend at the time.

No man or woman is an island. We need never walk alone, for we are not alone. Further, we need not see dependence on others as a sign of weakness. It is not. In some ways, it is a sign of strength, and certainly an evidence of humility. It is significant that the Savior regards this willingness to lean upon the faith of others to be a spiritual gift: “To some it is given by the Holy Ghost to know that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and that he was crucified for the sins of the world. To others it is given to believe on their words, that they also might have eternal life if they continue faithful” (D&C 46:13–14; emphasis added). To some extent, mortals will always lean on others, but, as we mentioned earlier, each one of us should be striving to acquire an independent witness of the truth.

I know in my mind and in my heart that we are engaged in the work of the Almighty and that his hand is over it. I have not always known with that certainty, however, for I leaned many times on the testimony of Uncle Joseph, Mom and Dad, and a host of witnesses who had come to know for themselves. Theirs was a strong, stabilizing influence in my life, an oasis of answers and assurance in what could have been a desert of doubt. In addition, it has been my privilege and opportunity to work closely with marvelous men and women in the Church Educational System who know the gospel is true, and they know the gospel.

Because of my work in Religious Education at Brigham Young University for more than thirty years, and particularly during the decade I served as dean, it was my sweet privilege to come to know several of the general Church leaders and to feel the power of their apostolic testimonies. It is clear beyond dispute that they know, they know they know, and that awareness provides a confidence and a humble boldness that empowers them to stand as witnesses of the name of Christ in all the world. Now these are some pretty impressive folks, men who are bright and energetic and quick, men who could be using their education and training to lead major corporations, be esteemed physicians, preside over colleges and universities, serve as state or federal judges, etc. And yet they have put aside worldly pursuits and aspirations in response to a call from a prophet, a call that they sensed and frequently testify came from God.

Are we to suppose they have all been duped? Hypnotized? Brainwashed? That they have been pressured in some way to assume a role that demands a completely consecrated life, to spend almost every weekend away from their home ward and their family? Hardly! Even though I have a witness of my own, even though my conviction lies deep within the inner recesses of my soul, I still lean on these great men—prophets, seers, and revelators. I look to them, I listen to them, I love them, I study their words carefully and regularly. God is my Father and Jesus is my Lord and Savior, and my worship is reserved for them, but these apostolic Church leaders are like Matthew and Thomas and John and Bartholomew in the first century—they are the chosen and ordained servants of the Lord Jesus, and they deserve my respect, my allegiance, and my trust. When I am tempted to worry and fret over some troublesome matter, I often ask myself: Would President Hinckley or President Monson be troubled by this issue? Would Elder Oaks be stumped, befuddled, or anxious about that question? Would Elder Holland be knocked off center by that situation? Because the Spirit has borne witness to me that they are exactly what and who we sustain and uphold them to be, I take comfort in their assurance. I have a conviction of my own, but I rest easy because they refuse to take counsel from their fears. I am more at peace because they are at peace.

Conclusion

To have faith is to be loyal, live faithfully, to strive to become steadfast and immovable (1 Corinthians 15:58; Mosiah 5:15). It is to hold on, to hold fast, particularly in moments or seasons of spiritual unrest. “I had actually seen a vision,” Joseph Smith declared; “and who am I that I can withstand God, or why does the world think to make me deny what I have actually seen? For I had seen a vision; I knew it, and I knew that God knew it, and I could not deny it, neither dared I do it; at least I knew that by so doing I would offend God, and come under condemnation” (Joseph Smith–History 1:25).

Faith is not just a belief, not just a sentiment. It is also an action, a behavior. Professor Adam Miller explained that “faith is more like being loyal to your husband or wife than it is like believing in magic.” He also encouraged us: “When your faith falters and you’re tempted to run, stand up and bear testimony instead. A testimony is a promise to stay. . . . It is less a measure of your certainty about a list of facts than it is a mark of your commitment to bearing the truths that, despite their weakness, keep imposing themselves as a grace.”8

A man or woman who continues to demonstrate faith, particularly in the refiner’s fire of intellectual and spiritual challenges to that faith, acquires an unusual strength, grows in subtle but significant ways. “As man’s thoughts turn to God and the things that pertain to God,” President Howard W. Hunter testified, “man undergoes a spiritual transformation.” That faith “lifts him from the commonplace and gives to him a noble and Godlike character. . . . The most powerful force in human nature is the spiritual power of faith.”9

We cleave to our faith because it is precious. We rejoice in the truth that God has chosen to bestow upon us this gift of the Spirit (1 Corinthians 12:9; Moroni 10:11; D&C 46:19–20). We are forever grateful that when we pass through turmoil and our faith seems to fade or falter, a gracious Lord is more than willing to walk patiently with us until our trust and confidence have been renewed.

Notes

1. Muggeridge, Jesus, the Man Who Lives, 20.

2. Muggeridge, Jesus, the Man Who Lives, 19–20.

3. Lectures on Faith, 59.

4. Maxwell, We Will Prove Them Herewith, 72; emphasis in original.

5. Oscarson, “Do I Believe?” Ensign, May 2016, 88.

6. Joseph Smith, 266.

7. Uchtdorf, “Come, Join with Us,” Ensign, Nov. 2013, 22.

8. Miller, Letters to a Young Mormon, 28–29; emphasis added.

9. Howard W. Hunter, 269.