A Theology of Suffering

Recently I discovered a discourse given over 20 years ago by a woman named Frances Bennion. Since the time I read it, I have pondered it daily. It has changed my outlook on suffering and the whole question of "why do bad things happen to good people?"

I started this blog, partly, with a mind to explore the topic of suffering, and how understanding the scriptures and the teachings of doctrine can help us through difficulty, as well as how we can have soft hearts for God to write His teachings upon them. (Hence, the Tables of the Heart moniker.)

Here is the link to the entire discourse. It is long. But it absolutely blew my mind, and I invite anyone who is suffering, has suffered, or anticipates future suffering to give it a look.

I'll include one quote (of many) that I found thought-provoking:

"One of my prayers to my Father is that my children will be healed of my ignorance and will not bear forever the difficulties caused by things I have mistakenly done or not done as a parent. As I think of the atonement of Christ, it seems to me that if our sins are to be forgiven, the results of them must be erased. If my mistakes are to be forgiven, other persons must be healed from any effects of them. In the same way, if other persons are to be released by the atonement, then we must be healed from their mistakes. I think that is an essential part of understanding God’s gift: He did not make a plan whereby we simply prove ourselves already right or wrong. Rather, we must make sense of the fact that who we are and who we become is not wholly dependent on where we are now, and on never having made a mistake. Christ’s atonement makes it possible for us to go through the meeting of reality, the falling, the hungering, the screaming, the crawling on the floor, the being disfigured and scarred for life psychologically or physically, and still survive and transcend it. If that were not true, then our whole universe would have no meaning."

The Misunderstood Sam Situation

I've started over reading the Book of Mormon again. My usual pattern is to read a chapter a day, and read through it and then start over. In this way, I've read it dozens of times in my life and love its insights and the strength it gives me every day.

The other interesting thing I'm sure most who love scripture have experienced is that in each read-through, I notice something a little different. Something jumps out at me I hadn't caught before. 

This time, it was something Nephi's brother Sam did--or didn't do. He didn't pray. But it's not why you might initially think.

In chapter 2 of 1 Nephi, Lehi teaches his sons. Basically, he's lecturing his two oldest sons, and they're on what they must think is an extended camping trip outside the walls of Jerusalem. The lecture ends, and Laman and Lemuel just complain. 

Nephi, though, realizes he wants to believe his father, so he prays that his heart will be softened. Then, the Holy Ghost tells Nephi that the words Lehi has taught are true. The Lord softens Nephi's heart so he can believe--and not rebel, like Laman and Lemuel did.

It's great to see Nephi's faith. It's also good to note that Nephi, too, had an initial struggle with believing the words of his father, the prophet. In a way, he's like the broken man who comes to Christ and says, "I believe, Lord, help thou mine unbelief."

There are a lot of lessons for me to take from this.

However, the thing that jumped out at me this time is Nephi's conversation with Sam in verse 17. Right after Nephi's spiritual experience, he goes to his confidante, his older brother Sam, and:

17 And I spake unto Sam, making known unto him the things which the Lord had manifested unto me by his Holy Spirit. And it came to pass that he believed in my words.

Sam doesn't require a big, earth-shattering experience in order to believe. He simply hears his younger brother's testimony, and he believes. He doesn't pray to have his heart softened because his heart is already there, ready to receive truth and testimony. (Although, it's not impossible that he'd already had his own spiritual manifestation during his father's teaching and Nephi simply doesn't record it.)

Actually, this happens several times in the Book of Mormon. During their time in the cave when the angel comes, and other times when Nephi needs backup, Sam is Nephi's ally. This grows and grows throughout their lives, and even continues in the Promised Land.

Lehi notes this, and in his final blessing of his sons before his death, he says to Sam in 2 Nephi chapter 4, 

11 And after he had made an end of speaking unto them, he spake unto Sam, saying: Blessed art thou, and thy seed; for thou shalt inherit the land like unto thy brother Nephi. And thy seed shall be numbered with his seed; and thou shalt be even like unto thy brother, and thy seed like unto his seed; and thou shalt be blessed in all thy days.

You hear about Nephites, Lamanites, Lemuelites, Zoramites, Jacobites, and Josephites in certain spots throughout the history that Mormon records, but there's never a mention of Samites. Instead, his posterity is, as Lehi said, numbered with that of the chosen prophet, Nephi. He aligns himself so completely with the prophet, and with God, that (from what I surmise) he refuses personal recognition.

Time and again, I have heard people teaching the Book of Mormon and saying that Sam was the wishy-washy one, or that he was "just there." However, I want to dispel that rumor.

In his defense, I want to point out that he was humble, faithful, and believing. That he had a heart so soft he could simply believe. The tables of his heart were fleshy, not stony, and the Word could easily be written there.

Another thing: he didn't need to be out front. He wanted to be true and obedient, and he must have wanted the same for his posterity enough that he taught them not to bring him up--that they belonged to the prophet, they belonged to God.

I haven't read anything scholarly on this, I'm just saying my own take on the noble and (in my opinion) misunderstood character of Sam. 

Also, there's a good chance the world might be a better place if more of us were more concerned about obedience than recognition.

He Only Said It Would Be Worth It

Okay, there are varying opinions on the adage, "I never said it would be easy, I only said it would be worth it," a quote attributed to the Savior. Which I can never find in the scriptures. However, yes, it has given strength to those who are enduring hard times, so I'm not going to say this is saying has no value. Clearly, it does. Even if it's not actually based in scripture.


Meanwhile, there is a different scripture where the prophet Isaiah talks about something being "worth it." And it isn't referring to us. It's referring to the sacrifice that the Savior made for us.


It is in Isaiah 53: 4-6 and verses 10-11.


4 ¶Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.

 5 But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.

 6 All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.

...

10 ¶Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him; he hath put him to grief: when thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.

 11 He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied.

In the past I have focused on the pain, the grief, the affliction that the Savior endured. For me. And I have felt terrible about it. As I should. And grateful, so deeply grateful that He would love me enough and be devoted to the Father enough to make this infinite sacrifice.

However, on a recent reading of these verses, I found myself focusing on the second part: the part where He says that it pleased Him.

What? It pleased Him? This just stops me in my tracks. But read on. When I make His soul an offering for my sin...He shall see his seed.

In other words, when I actually make His sacrifice efficacious by repenting, by taking the proffered gift of forgiveness, of being made pure and holy once again by His divine power, then He shall see the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied.

So instead of always thinking how sad it is that I've made things worse for the Savior by my bad behavior, I should realize, the Atonement is done. It is, as He said, finished. And now, MY work is to make it WORTH IT for Him by ACCEPTING His unspeakably sacred and generous and soul-wrenching gift... by repenting.

For that is what pleases the Lord.

What is a Testimony, Really?

The other day I was looking up the word "tabernacle" in the Bible Dictionary. It was basically a mobile temple used while the Children of Israel wandered 40 years on the wilderness before entering the promised land.


A lot of the description of the tabernacle had to do with the length of the poles that held up the fancy curtains and what kinds of wood were used in the construction. It was a condensed version of what it says in Deuteronomy.


I skimmed.


But then my eyes landed on this part that talks about what was kept in the holiest place of the tabernacle. It was the Ark of the Covenant.


Now, we've all heard of this thing, if we've watched Indiana Jones do his thing. And we've probably all heard the story of what happened to Uzziah when he reached up to steady it when the oxen tripped while dragging the ark. Zap. But what was really inside the ark (a.k.a., very nice wooden box)?


According to the scriptures, within the ark were the stone tablets upon which the finger of God had written the commandments when He gave them to Moses on Mount Sinai. The Israelites kept these in the most sacred place they had while living in camping conditions for decades: the ark.


But what stopped me cold was the alternate name for the ark: The Ark of the Testimony.


All of a sudden, this idea poured into my head, that a testimony is something where the hand of God has written something indelible--such as these plates of stone. And that my testimony is the collection of things that God has written upon the tables of my heart, never to be removed.


I do have a testimony. God's hand has written many things on my heart over the 40+ years I have been a sojourner on this earth. He can write better when my heart is fleshy than when it is stony. He can write more when I come to Him. He can write more when I humble myself and seek to share His love and search out the One.


It's incredible that each of us can have this writing on our souls. God is so good.

Like a Cheese Grater for the Foot...Stony vs. Fleshy

Last week I started running again after a five month hiatus to let my owie knee rest. It still sounds like a box of Tic Tacs when I walk down a staircase, but it doesn't hurt anymore, which means I started back out there. We'll see how long it lasts.


One of the unexpected blessings of the hiatus was the calluses on my feet healed up. When I checked them out today, for the first time in a few years, they were more like human flesh than like the pumice I use on them. My pumice stone is part of a pedicure paddle, and on the other side of it is a thing that's remarkably like the cheese grater / lemon zester tool I use in my kitchen. Except I use it on the bottoms of my feet. And often the calluses are so thick it doesn't even hurt.


So, does this have a scriptural point? Why, yes. It does. Because I have still been reading in the book of Ezekiel, from Chapter 11:

 18 And they shall come thither, and they shall take away all the detestable things thereof and all the abominations thereof from thence.

 19 And I will ^agive them one ^bheart, and I will put a ^cnew ^dspirit within you; and I will take the stony heart out of their flesh, and will give them an ^eheart of flesh:

 20 That they may ^awalk in my statutes, and keep mine ^bordinances, and do them: and they shall be my ^cpeople, and I will be their God.

I keep thinking of this phrase, "stony heart."


When we sin, we feel bad. It hurts us when our hearts are soft because we're each born with a conscience, given to us by our Heavenly Father. That's like a central nervous system for our soul.


It's like when we accidentally touch a hot stove. The heat would damage us, and the pain tells us to stop.


So, in a strange way, the pain is a good thing. A warning system.

However, if we repeatedly burn our hand, after a while it gets deadened and we can't feel it as much. 

That, or in the case of a callused-over blister, our flesh actually hardens.

Likewise, our spirits can harden. If we ignore the pain of sin long enough, it can make our hearts like Ezekiel said: stony.


Anyway, I was thinking about it. When we do stuff we shouldn't, and it hurts, we basically have two options to help us stop feeling sad/bad about it. 1) We can repent. 2) We can keep sinning and develop a spiritual callus (i.e., "harden our hearts.")


It can harden to the point that it doesn't even hurt when we scrape a cheese grater over it. We ignore it, until we barely notice we're constantly walking around both harmed and callused.


Ezekiel says when Israel is gathered, they will put aside their "detestable things," and when they come to Christ, He will give them a heart of flesh and take away their stony heart.


Then they can walk in His statutes and ordinances (like taking the sacrament) and be His people and He is their God.

The Lord wants soft hearts. He is a God of soft hearts.

And another important point is we don't have to make the exchange. I don't have the skill to turn rocks to flesh. But He does. He turned water into wine. He can and will turn stone into softness.


All we have to do is put aside our detestable things and come to Him.


And so, according to Ezekiel, I need to get off my stony, callused feet and onto the flesh of my knees.