Living What We Profess

An honest man was being tailgated by a stressed-out woman on a busy boulevard. Suddenly, the light turned yellow, just in front of him. He did the right thing, stopping at the crosswalk, even though he could have beaten the red light by accelerating through the intersection. The tailgating woman hit the roof, and the horn, screaming in frustration as she missed her chance to get through the intersection with him.

As she was still in mid-rant, she heard a tap on her window and looked up into the face of a very serious police officer. The officer ordered her to exit her car with her hands up. He took her to the police station where she was searched, fingerprinted, photographed, and placed in a cell.

After a couple of hours, a policeman approached the cell and opened the door. The woman was escorted back to the booking desk where the arresting officer was waiting with her personal effects. He said, "I'm very sorry for this mistake. You see, I pulled up behind your car while you were blowing your horn and cussing a blue streak at the guy in front of you. I noticed the 'Choose Life' license plate holder, the 'What Would Jesus Do' bumper sticker and the chrome-plated Christian fish emblem on the trunk. Naturally, I assumed you had stolen the car.”

The story may or may not be apocryphal. But it illustrates the challenge we all face: making sure that our behavior squares with our professed values.

Personal responsibility is a virtue we all want in others, and most of us claim as a defining characteristic of ourselves.

That’s not a casual statement. I have hard data on it. Over the years I’ve interviewed and surveyed hundreds of thousands of people regarding the culture in their organizations. I always ask questions about performance – the performance of the respondent and the performance of others. Virtually without exception, individuals regard themselves as reliable and responsible. They believe they are held accountable to high standards. But when the same questions are applied to others, respondents usually have a different story. They believe that at least some of their colleagues provide less than robust performance.

For example, in one company where I recently did a culture diagnostic, 76% of employees agreed with the statement “I am always held accountable for performing at a high level.” Among the same employee force, however, only 9% agreed with the statement “At (name of company), people who don’t pull their fair share of the load are promptly held accountable.”

Aside from the logical incongruity of that finding, it underscores a common malady: a blind spot for one’s own foibles or mistakes.

This is the story about four people. Their names were Everybody, Somebody, Anybody and Nobody.

There was an important job to be done and Everybody was sure that Somebody would do it.

Anybody could have done it, but Nobody did. Somebody got upset about that, because it was Everybody’s job.

Everybody thought Anybody could do it, but Nobody realized that Everybody didn’t do it.

It ended up that Everybody blamed Somebody when Nobody did what Anybody could have.

The behavior described in that little ditty is painfully common. It reminds me of when I was growing up as a kid. We kept a water bottle in the refrigerator. The rules, of course, were that (1) you never drank out of the bottle, and (2) you always filled it up after using it.

In reality, of course, my brothers and I often violated the rules. It was not unusual to open the frig and find the bottle not only with just a quarter inch of water in it but with bread crumbs floating on the top. Everybody blamed Somebody when … well, you get the idea.

In a recent Gospel Doctrine class, we discussed a number of scriptures that directly apply to the notion of living what we profess:

· Nephi’s admonition that we “must press forward with a steadfastness in Christ.” (2 Nephi 31:20)

· The importance of asking God, in the name of Christ, to consecrate our performance. (2 Nephi 32:9)

Regarding that last point, we gain further insight and instruction in D&C 58:26-28. In this revelation we’re reminded that we should not need to be commanded in all things (a heavenly twist on “That’s Not My Job”), and that by our own free will we should be anxiously engaged in good causes.

In Jacob 4:10 we’re reminded that we should “seek not to counsel the Lord” but rather to “take counsel from his hand.” In an intellectual sense, that doctrine is easy to grasp. In actual practice, however, it’s sometimes a challenge. On occasion we ask the Lord to guide us, then we grab the steering wheel.

In Jacob 5 we read of Zenos’ allegory of the olive tree. A central theme in the allegory is stewardship. A stewardship is a job with a purpose. (See an earlier column, “Think Like a Steward, Perform Like a Patriot.”)

When we are faithful in our stewardships, we magnify our callings. We don’t need to be commanded in all things. We are proactive. We go the second mile. And, of course, faithfulness in our own callings is an integral part of our genuine sustaining of others in their callings. Ask any bishop how important good home teaching and visiting teaching are to the effectiveness of his service as the ward’s shepherd.

Then we studied the Book of Enos. Here we see one of the finest examples of personal religion in the scriptures. The fervent prayer offered up by Enos illustrates the expanding concern of a righteous person – first for himself, next for his own people, and finally for his enemies. Enos provides a model of humility and openness to the Lord’s teaching.

These doctrines are pure and they are simple. So pure and simple, in fact, that they can easily be missed.

Years ago while serving as a stake president I sought out a high priest who had been completely inactive in the Church for more than a decade. I asked him why he had chosen that path. He said he was called to serve as stake mission president and he developed a plan for the calling. His stake president had a different vision for missionary efforts in the stake, and asked him to adjust his plan.

“I felt really strongly about the plan I had developed, and I resisted the stake president’s instruction,” the man told me. “When it because obvious that my approach would not be followed, I asked to be released. Then I just drifted away from the Church.”

“Well, I guess you really showed him, didn’t you?” I said. “To demonstrate your independence, you’ve estranged yourself from the faith you once defended. Meanwhile, your wife and children have been denied the benefits of your participation, and your temple blessings are held in suspension while you ignore your covenants.”

It was very straight talk, and fortunately the man came to his senses and returned to activity.

Living what we profess requires a special kind of commitment. The doctrines of the Restoration are not always easy, and the natural man frequently gets in the way. Our challenge, of course, is to emulate the strength and faith of people like Nephi and Jacob and Enos.

It is all we can do after all.

Ah, that infamous BoM line...the one that is diametrically opposed to everything the Apostle Paul ever stood for since his conversion (on the other hand, it represents everything he ever stood for prior to his conversion). Most of the BoM is either harmless myth (theologically speaking only) or matches the Bible word for word or is pretty close concept for concept. But not that Nephite verse--the one that includes that phrase, "all we can do."

It is the impossible burden to carry. It is the elephant on the knapsack. It is the knee-buckling standard for which no person, save Jesus Christ, could truly adhere to. This verse is the "Continental Divide" that sets apart and keeps the BoM from being considered any kind of true Christian document.

The verse is 2 Nephi 25:23--"we are saved by grace, after all we can do."

For the latter-day saint, grace kicks in only after all he or she can do. And what saint has ever in the history of the world testified that he or she has done everything they could do?

No, the testament of the Bible is that "all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23). But according to 2 Nephi 25:23, grace is the ambulance that will take you home as soon as you finish the million-mile marathon. It negates grace to the extent that even a General Conference speaker in April, 1950--Henry D. Moyle--boldly declared (in contradistinction to Ephesians 2:8-9), "We shall not be saved by grace alone."

Another general authority declared, "For we labor diligently to write, to persuade our children, and also our brethren, to believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God; for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do." (2 Nephi 25:23.) Truly we are redeemed by the atoning blood of the Savior of the world, but only after each has done all he can to work out his own salvation.-Harold B. Lee, Stand Ye In Holy Places, p.236

Saint, have you done all you can do? No. Therefore, Mormon grace eludes you; yet godly grace does not. If grace were merited favor, you would turn the very word on its head, for it means unmerited favor. It means, "gift."

If my 10-family member Christmas were a Christmas based upon 2 Nephi 25:23, the dialogue would run something like this:

"Thanks, dad, for the presents."

"Your welcome, son."

"What do I have to do now to merit them?"

"You don't, son, they were gifts because I love you."

"No, really, dad, what do I have to do?"

"Son, they are gifts. I initiated them. I chose them. I selected them for those I love. Even if you could afford them, which there is no way in the world you could, I would not let you acquire them. This is not a business transaction. It's love; it's family conciliation; they reflect my love for you; they mark your connectivity to who your parents are."

"Dad, are you just telling me I've gotta do all I can do the rest of my life to try to pay all these gifts off, and then you'll give them to me for keeps?"

"Son, you're not listening. In fact, you're starting to offend me. You're offending my gracious nature; you're not honoring your father. You're assuming these gifts are so low on the totem pole price-wise that your labor could qualify you and thereby purchase worthiness. Son, to be fully honest with you, these gifts were purchased with blood money that is not your sweat and blood, but that of another. Son, you are worthy already by virtue of our blood relationship."

So how does this fully relate to living responsibly? LDS apostle says "we are responsible by conduct and by covenants to live the standards of the gospel." (Full quote: "Our critics' belief, based on the Bible, holds that man is saved by grace alone. Theirs is by far the easier way. Our position, also based on the Bible but strengthened by other scriptures, holds that we are saved by grace 'after all we can do,' (2 Ne. 25:23.) and we are responsible by conduct and by covenants to live the standards of the gospel." - Boyd K. Packer, "The Peaceable Followers of Christ," Ensign, Apr. 1998, p. 65).

But the gospel literally means "good news." News is not a standard, a law, a precept, an ordinance, to obey, it's news. Jesus dying on the cross is front-page news, a historical event; you ARE forgiven is front-page news, not another "thou shalt"; Jesus rising from the dead is good news, not more sweaty merit badges you have notch on your spiritual belt.

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