A central message of scripture is to submit ourselves to God (James 4:7, Mosiah 3:19, Alma 7:23; 13:28, Ether 12:27). When we empty ourselves of ourselves—our agendas, preferences, peeves, demands, expectations—God is able to take up occupancy in us. Filled with Him, we experience great spiritual power. By losing ourselves, we gain ourselves. By surrendering (to God), we conquer (the world).

Yet God tells us to “be anxiously engaged in a good cause, and do many things of [our] own free will, and bring to pass much righteousness” (D&C 58:27).

Reconciling Opposites

How can we reconcile mandated submission with God’s instruction to be anxiously engaged? I think the answer is simple. As we submit our minds, hearts, and wills to God, He lends us more and more of His power. By surrendering our power, we gain His. Submission opens the door to heavenly power.

Priesthood is a good example of this principle. As we submit ourselves to God’s commands, He lends us His power. He allows—even encourages—us to do mighty works. Of course, His power must be used in righteousness. As soon as we try to use that power “in any degree of unrighteousness, behold, the heavens withdraw themselves; the Spirit of the Lord is grieved; and when it is withdrawn, Amen to the priesthood or the authority of that man” (D&C 121:37).

But God’s invitation goes far beyond blessing babies and baptizing children. Enoch used faith to make the earth shake, mountains flee, and rivers change course (Moses 7:13).

Enoch’s Power

The key to Enoch’s power was twofold:

1. Enoch’s faith was not in himself but in God. When God invited him to be a messenger to the people, Enoch protested:

“He bowed himself to the earth, before the Lord, and spake before the Lord, saying: Why is it that I have found favor in thy sight, and am but a lad, and all the people hate me; for I am slow of speech; wherefore am I thy servant?” (Moses 6:31).

I’m sure you see the irony. Because Enoch felt unworthy to be a special messenger for God, He was ideally suited for the demanding task. Meekness is not a weakness to be overcome but a foundation on which God builds. Meekness and humility are preconditions for exercising God’s power.

2. Enoch did not use God’s power to advance his own agenda. He used it to advance God’s work and purposes and bless His children. If we want to enjoy God’s power, our whole desires must be to bless God’s children.

Sometimes lately in my evening prayers I am surprised to find unexpected words pop up, “Father, teach me to use Thy power to bless Thy children.” I think God is inviting me to learn the sacred process of heavenly power.

Reaching Out

This idea has been especially poignant to me lately. As I participated in BYU Education Week, I visited with people who suffer terrible pains. Several times people told me stories of dashed hopes and grim suffering. One woman told me of profound pains and cried with tears, “I’m done! I can’t go on!” I wept with her. I honestly had no answer for her wrenching challenges. I came home with a nagging melancholy. How can such good people bear such anguish?

It is all well and good to talk of eternal compensations. It is appropriate to offer our love and support. But is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no comfort for the overburdened? Is there no way we can help the desperate?

As I dozed off to sleep last night, a sacred invitation flowed into my mind: “Bring to pass much righteousness.” I turned on the bedside lamp and wrote those words. They felt like an answer and invitation.

Is there a way that we can exercise faith to draw the blessings of heaven into the lives of those who suffer? We would not truncate God’s educational curriculum for any of His children, but maybe part of the curriculum is for us to be united in yearning for each other. Maybe we can draw heavenly goodness into each other’s lives.

Creating Zion

Enoch’s people suffered terribly. Yet their afflictions seemed to open them to Enoch’s invitation to repentance. In their desperation, the people called on God. Enoch exercised God’s power to the chagrin and defeat of their enemies:

So great was the fear of the enemies of the people of God, that they fled and stood afar off and went upon the land which came up out of the depth of the sea. And the giants of the land, also, stood afar off; and there went forth a curse upon all people that fought against God; (Moses 7:14-5)

While there were wars in the world, “the Lord came and dwelt with his people, and they dwelt in righteousness. The fear of the Lord was upon all nations, so great was the glory of the Lord, which was upon his people. And the Lord blessed the land, and they were blessed upon the mountains, and upon the high places, and did flourish” (Moses 7:16-17).

The terrible affliction did not break the people, it united them. It created a city unique in the history of the world, a city that drew heaven into them and so that heaven could draw them up. “And Enoch walked with God: and he was not; for God took him” (Genesis 5:24).

Enoch and his people became the prototypic Zion.

“And the Lord called his people ZION, because they were of one heart and one mind, and dwelt in righteousness; and there was no poor among them” (Moses 7:18).

Personal Invitations

I think that God is inviting us to create Zion in our communities of concern. God invites us to purge our selfish desires and submit to His perfect purposes so that we can draw heaven’s blessings into the lives of those we love.

I don’t know a step-by-step process to activate this power. I am simply trying to find my way just as I suppose you are trying to find yours. I am asking the Spirit to teach me how I can help the poor, lift up hands that hang down, and strengthen weak knees. I would like to be an agent for God in the lives of those who suffer. I yearn to bless those we love.

In the wilderness of mortality, I feel like Nephi: “I was led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which I should do” (1 Nephi 4:6). While I do not know the process, I know that God has created an amazing adventure in godliness for those who respond to His invitation to join Him in blessing His children.

May we draw the power of heaven to bless those among us who suffer.

———————————–
You may be interested in Brother Goddard’s books such as Soft-Spoken Parenting, Drawing Heaven into Your Marriage, and Between Parent and Child. For more information about his books or his programs, visit www.FamilyCollege.com or his blog at www.drwally.org/

Therefore may God grant unto you, my brethren, that ye may begin to exercise your faith unto repentance, that ye begin to call upon his holy name, that he would have mercy upon you;

Yea, cry unto him for mercy; for he is mighty to save.

Yea, humble yourselves, and continue in prayer unto him.

Cry unto him in your houses, yea, over all your household, both morning, mid-day, and evening. (Alma 34:17-19, 21)

Quarreling and bickering among siblings are painfully common in family life. While children are declared innocent because of the atonement (D&C 93:38), it is also true that “when they begin to grow up, sin conceiveth in their hearts” (Moses 6:55). Everyone who works with children knows that they can be not only charming, sweet, and delightful, but also selfish, pouty, and demanding. They are not automatically or naturally cooperative and peace-loving.

Research is clear. We humans are not objective. We gather data very selectively. We ignore or discard truths we don’t like. We see bias in others without seeing our own. We judge those we disagree with to be illogical. When we disagree substantially, we attack their integrity and character. We excuse ourselves and our friends for our weaknesses while emphasizing and exaggerating the (similar) weaknesses of our enemies.

Where do we find God? At the end of our journey—or somewhere along the way?

In Alma’s great speech to the people, he suggested that one of the evidences of spiritual re-birth is to have Jesus’ image in our countenances (Alma 5:14). I have been both inspired and burdened by that expectation. I want to radiate like Jesus. I want people to see Him in me. But, when I look in the mirror, I don’t see any hint of His remarkable goodness. I see tired eyes and a profusion of wrinkles.

Listen to the fireside or download Audio File (Right click on “Listen to the fireside” then choose “Save Target As…”)

I make lots of mistakes. I have always felt that I made more than my share. Some of them are fairly small. It is not hard to imagine that God will blink at them. But some of them are medium size or even giant size. And they have the annoying habit of accumulating faster than I can clear them away.

The chief advantage of making big mistakes is that they force us to acknowledge our need for repentance. Being filthy is not pleasant business. But it is so unfortunate that the only alternative to sin is this distasteful business of repentance.

nevertheless, I know in whom I have trusted

The turning point is: “nevertheless, I know in whom I have trusted.” Important words: “I know in whom I have trusted.” Not Nephi. Not Lehi. But God. Notice a significant difference in his post-transformation statements:

20.  My God hath been my support;

he hath led me through mine afflictions in the wilderness;

and he hath preserved me upon the waters of the great deep.

21.  he hath filled me with his love, even unto the consuming of my flesh.

22.   he hath confounded mine enemies, unto the causing of them to quake before me.

23. Behold, he hath heard my cry by day, and he hath given me knowledge by visions in the night time.

Nephi did not merely add a dose of Jesus to his own program of self-improvement. He entirely changed his focus. Rather than grieving over his own abundant failings, he turned to Jesus’ remarkable goodness. He stopped talking about Nephi. He focused on Jesus.

Nephi then recounts some of God’s gifts to him and glories in his only hope. “Rejoice, O my heart, and cry unto the Lord, and say: O Lord, I will praise thee forever; yea, my soul will rejoice in thee, my God, and the rock of my salvation. O Lord, wilt thou redeem my soul? Wilt thou deliver me out of the hands of mine enemies? Wilt thou make me that I may shake at the appearance of sin?” (2 Nephi 4:30–31).

Nephi found joy and hope by turning entirely to the Lord. “O Lord, wilt thou encircle me around in the robe of thy righteousness! O Lord, I have trusted in thee, and I will trust in thee forever. I will not put my trust in the arm of flesh; for I know that cursed is he that putteth his trust in the arm of flesh” (2 Nephi 4:33–34).

I must not put my trust in the arm of flesh. I cannot save me. Nor can any other human. But He can.

The Book of Mormon, with its relentless testimony of Jesus’ redemptiveness, is the great latter-day corrective. If anything can save us from our self-sufficiency, it is the message of the Book of Mormon. The great danger of the latter-days may be that we will dilute its message of divine redemption with our do-it-yourself, American, can-your-own-peaches, push-your own-handcart self-sufficiency and find that being valiant in the testimony of Jesus is incompatible with salvational self-sufficiency. Ammon’s explosion of rejoicing captures the essential Book of Mormon message. “Who could have supposed that our God would have been so merciful as to have snatched us from our awful, sinful, and polluted state?” (Alma 26:17).

All of this reliance on Jesus can make a good, red-blooded, twenty-first century American Mormon pretty uncomfortable. Are we shifting all the responsibility to him? What is our duty? The best answer comes (predictably) from scripture. Notice the clear division of labor expressed in this beautiful triptych: “Therefore, dearly beloved brethren, let us cheerfully do all things that lie in our power; and then may we stand still, with the utmost assurance, to see the salvation of God, and for his arm to be revealed” (D&C 123:17).

We do all that we are able, whether much or little. And we do it cheerfully. Then we stand still. That sounds very serene. Faith-filled. The result is that we see the hand of God doing the work that He is uniquely able to do. He will guide us, teach us, and, most important of all, cleanse and perfect us.

What must we do to qualify for His goodness? Paul’s surprising message is that we must need it. (Oh, how I need it!) “Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:16).

Need. I have more than my share of need. And he, having made an infinite and eternal sacrifice, has more than His share of grace, mercy—redemption. How is our requisite need expressed? How do we draw His power into our lives? In humility. Jesus’ remarkable definition of righteousness still surprises us: “I tell you, this man [the penitent sinner] went down to his house justified [rather] than the other: for every one that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted” (Luke 18:14).

Just as the process of repentance is different from what I expected, so also is the outcome. When I was younger I hoped to one day be capable and confident. But there is something better than self-sufficiency and self-confidence. “. . . then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God” (D&C 121:45).

Divine confidence is infinitely better than self-confidence. Self-confidence is always flawed and fretful because it depends on a fallible source. Divine confidence provides the serenity to face trials, death, joy, repentance, disappointment, and, ultimately, admission to His presence.

Shortly before he died, Lehi summed up the repentance process we call life. “But behold, the Lord hath redeemed my soul from hell; I have beheld his glory, and I am encircled about eternally in the arms of his love” (2 Nephi 1:15).

I am glad to know that the one who is in charge of saving me is a lot more capable than I. I go to him gladly and regularly for the cleansing that He so graciously offers. I rejoice that I can be encircled in the arms of His perfect love. “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; yea, behold, many mighty miracles we have wrought in this land, for which we will praise his name forever” (Alma 26:12).

Listen to the fireside here

or download MP3 (Right click on "download MP3" then choose "Save Target As...")

Nephi grieved from the depths of his heart:

My heart exclaimeth: O wretched man that I am! Yea, my heart sorroweth because of my flesh; my soul grieveth because of mine iniquities. (2 Nephi 4:17)

Can you feel Nephi’s pain? He was not merely saddened by his errors, he was grieving his humanness. He was sorrowing for his sins. And he felt bound to them and bounded by them. He hated the fetters of sin!

I am encompassed about, because of the temptations and the sins which do so easily beset me. (2 Nephi 4:18)

As much as Nephi loved God, his rejoicing felt inauthentic when his life was so riddled with error, weakness—let’s use the word: sin.

And when I desire to rejoice, my heart groaneth because of my sins; (2 Nephi 4:19)

Nephi poignantly poses the questions that burden earnest seekers of goodness. Why can’t I overcome sin? Why, when I know so much and try so hard, does it continue to bedevil me? Why aren’t I better than I am when He helps me as much as He does?

His whole soul cried out. His spirit yearned to be set free of the exhausting gravity of frailty, imperfection, weakness, lack of resolve—there it is again: sin.

We may be tempted to soften Nephi’s point by imagining that his sins were quite different from ours.  He does not enumerate or detail his sins and we should probably not speculate about them. Yet I think Nephi would be offended if we dulled his point by blunting his message. He said that he sinned. And he knew that sin offended God and burdened his soul.

Nephi jumped right from the question to his post-answer rejoicing with a mere acknowledgment of Christ:

Nevertheless, I know in whom I have trusted.

Nephi’s relationship with and experience of Jesus was so great that he turned on a dime. He went from grieving to rejoicing with the utterance of the magical key. He did not give us the formula, the background, the process. He simply launched from earth to heaven. We are left amazed by the change without knowing the process.

In my view, that process was detailed almost a millennium later as part of the Book of Mormon benediction. In a wise and inspired note, Moroni revealed the divine process with elegant precision. As spokesman for Jesus, he said:

 And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. (Ether 12:27)

Most of us feel that we don’t need that kind of help. There are already plenty of people (including we ourselves) who are willing to elaborate on our weakness. Yet there is something extraordinary about the way Jesus does that. He invites us to bring our weakness to Him so He can remove it. He doesn’t see us evaluatively but redemptively.Moroni continued to deliver Jesus’ invitation:

I give unto men weakness that they may be humble;

Weakness is heavenly-designed! Given heaven’s hatred of imperfection, there must be a good reason to provide it; Heaven must place unbelievable value on humility! Maybe humility is the gate to redemption.

My grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me;

There is the magical combination: our humility and His grace! When we set aside our preferences, our agenda, our demands and come to Him with open minds and hearts, He does magic.

For if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.

Wow. By recognizing our dependence on Him and by showing our trust in Him, we open the door to becoming strong. Suddenly we understand the Lord’s baffling message to Paul:

My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. (2 Corinthians 12:9, emphasis added)

When we recognize and acknowledge our weakness, our dependence, Jesus can make us strong. Suddenly self-sufficiency dissolves. In its place comes confidence in the presence of God (See D&C 121:45).

Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong. (2 Corinthians 12:9-10)

Let’s be sure we understand Nephi, Moroni, and Paul’s message to us: Weakness is the inheritance of mortals. You will sin. Since you care about spiritual things, you will be burdened by sin and weakness. You will hate them. But be careful. Don’t try to set yourself right. Don’t stay away from Him because of oppressive guilt. Only One can remove sin and guilt. Turn to Him. Run to Him! And, in perfect tranquility, trust Him to carry you toward becoming “a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ” (Ephesians 4:13).

This is where faith becomes very real. Do I believe that He wants to save me? Do I believe that He does love me in spite of my persistent mistakes? Do I believe that He will embrace me and sustain me and lead me to an ever-better life? Do I believe that He has an exalted view of my ultimate place?

So the question is not whether we will sin. We will sin. The question is whether we, having resisted sin the best we can, will gladly come to Christ. He can—and gladly will—cleanse our souls, grant meaning to our lives, wipe away our tears, fill our lives with growth, and award us Eternity. That is Moroni’s answer to Nephi’s question.

Questions to ponder:

Have you noticed that, after sinning, you sometimes feel dry, empty, and confused? Have you also noticed that, as quickly as you throw yourself on the merits, mercy, and grace of Christ, that you feel lightened, refreshed, and hopeful? We may feel even better than before we sinned—because our weakness led us to much-needed humility. Usually this does not happen once-for-all. We must go back to Him in humility time and again.

What sins have I committed in the last week, day, or hour? Have I taken them to Christ so that they can be transformed into growth? Or have I allowed my spiritual house to become littered with sin mites that I try to ignore but which ultimately rob me of joy and growth?

Sin and weakness serve God’s purpose when they send us back to Him, humble and earnest. Am I ready to round up my forgotten sins and general weakness and take them to Christ? Will I allow Him to take me to the next level of discipleship?

Rather than getting discouraged with any past efforts at self-improvement, am I willing to call on Him more earnestly forever knowing that only He can save me?