On Sacrifice, Suffering and Scouring

Not long ago, I found a letter I had written to my son Ben, who was serving a full-time mission in Ecuador.

I'm including some of it below.

April 23, 2017 
Yesterday morning at 8:00, our family, and a few other families, met at the church – to clean the building. None of us are church administrators or professional custodians. We were just doing what we were asked to do.

What kind of church expects its members to do that? To come to clean the building, bringing their children along with them, and perform this menial labor without any monetary compensation or reward?

The same church that expects its members to serve in callings, to pay one-tenth plus of their income, to set aside a couple of years or so to spread the gospel to all the world, to serve those in need regularly, and to attend three hours of meetings on Sunday and often a few more.

Today in Relief Society the lesson was from Elder Ballard's October 2016 conference talk, “To Whom Should We Go?” You might remember it; it's about how people get lost and leave the church. Here's a quote we discussed:

"Some disciples struggle to understand a specific Church policy or teaching. Others find concerns in our history or in the imperfections of some members and leaders, past and present. Still others fi

nd it difficult to live a religion that requires so much. Finally, some have become “weary in well-doing.”

The woman who was teaching the lesson joined the church when she was a teenager. She told us that in her previous church, you went to a meeting on Sunday and then you went home. And that was it.

I've been thinking about that. I think that kind of participation in a church can produce good people. But I'm not sure it can produce Saints, which is what we are shooting for. "A religion that does not require the sacrifice of all things never has power sufficient to produce the faith necessary to lead unto life and salvation." 

I was going to include just that brief line of that quote from Joseph Smith, but I read the whole thing – for the first time, I think – and I'm going to use it all. I know you don't have all day to read e-mails, but it's not that long.

“Let us here observe, that a religion that does not require the sacrifice of all things never has power sufficient to produce the faith necessary unto life and salvation; for, from the first existence of man, the faith necessary unto the enjoyment of life and salvation never could be obtained without the sacrifice of all earthly things. It was through this sacrifice, and this only, that God has ordained that men should enjoy eternal life; and it is through the medium of the sacrifice of all earthly things that men do actually know that they are doing the things that are well pleasing in the sight of God. When a man has offered in sacrifice all that he has for the truth's sake, not even withholding his life, and believing before God that he has been called to make this sacrifice because he seeks to do his will, he does know, most assuredly, that God does and will accept his sacrifice and offering, and that he has not, nor will not seek his face in vain. Under these circumstances, then, he can obtain the faith necessary for him to lay hold on eternal life.” (Joseph Smith, Lectures on Faith 6:7)

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The incomprehensible suffering of Jesus Christ ended sacrifice by the shedding of blood, but it did not end the importance of sacrifice in the gospel plan. Our Savior requires us to continue to offer sacrifices, but the sacrifices He now commands are that we “offer for a sacrifice unto [Him] a broken heart and a contrite spirit” He also commands each of us to love and serve one another—in effect, to offer a small imitation of His own sacrifice by making sacrifices of our own time and selfish priorities.

Just as the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ is at the center of the plan of salvation, we followers of Christ must make our own sacrifices to prepare for the destiny that plan provides for us. 

We are frequently asked, “How do you persuade your young people and your older members to leave their schooling or their retirement to sacrifice in this way?” I have heard many give this explanation: “Knowing what my Savior did for me—His grace in suffering for my sins and in overcoming death so I can live again—I feel privileged to make the small sacrifice I am asked to make in His service. I want to share the understanding He has given me.”  

Elder Dallin H. Oaks, April 2002 GC. 

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A young woman in our ward, as she spoke in Sacrament Meeting before leaving on her mission, told the congregation with emotion in her voice that she had struggled with her own weakness in making the decision.

Then she said, “I still don't know all the Savior's strength. But I know He has enough to give me the strength I need.” 

My own son, Joseph, who is nearing the end of his service as a missionary, had some struggles at first. This letter shows his honesty, his faith, and his subtle humor:

Missionary work is hard, not gonna lie. My companion keeps trying to make me do things I don't know how to do, really advanced missionary stuff like talking. At least if I didn't speak the language well I'd have an excuse not to do things.

We still haven't even met with most of our investigators, they're pretty hard to contact and it seems like some of them are avoiding us even. It can be really frustrating.

Sorry if it seems like I'm complaining. It's really not that bad. I have a lot to be grateful for. I'm actually not that stressed or homesick (which means it just hasn't hit me yet, probably) and my trainer says he was a lot worse his first couple weeks. I feel like I've been strengthened by God for sure. 

 

“If you have been to the temple for yourselves and if you live within relatively close proximity to a temple, your sacrifice could be setting aside the time in your busy lives to visit the temple regularly,” he said. (President Thomas S. Monson, April 2011 General Conference

A story from my own life:
It was hard for me to find time to attend the temple while my children were young, but I managed to do it occasionally. Unfortunately, I sometimes felt like I needed to hurry through the session to get home and attend to my duties there.

On one such day, I sat in the chapel waiting for the session to begin. There were only a few people in the room, and I wondered if they could even do a session with so few. But just as it was time to move to the ordinance room, a man came in to join us. He seemed very old, and very frail. His temple clothes were yellow from age.

I am not proud about the feelings I had when I saw him. I became judgmental and annoyed, thinking that he might  slow the session down. I knew I was wrong to feel that way, and I tried to push the critical thoughts aside.

Toward the end of session, I found myself standing next to the frail old man, and I reached out to touch his hand. In that instant, my feelings toward him shifted dramatically. I knew that he was a much-loved son of God, a valiant soldier in the kingdom. I felt the Lord's love for him, and I was humbled by the privilege of standing with him in this sacred place. I will never forget those feelings.

It was only a few weeks later that I read a story about that man in the local newspaper. I learned that he had died, leaving this imperfect world and his worn-out mortal body behind. The article told the story of his long life of service, including in its account that in his later years, he had attended the Logan temple every day, from the time it opened until it closed. He had continued in that service almost until the last day of his life. 

And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not. (Galatians 6:9 )

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Now, years later, it is again difficult for me to attend the temple. My poor vision and hearing, combined with my weakness and almost ever-present fatigue, make every visit to that sacred place a challenge.

One day, after a particularly troublesome session, I sunk into what can best be described as "whiny prayer," asking my Father in Heaven why He couldn't make this easier for me.

The answer came while I was on my way home, and it came very clearly: "Do you think you're the only person it's hard for? Is there no one worse off than you?"

But in all things approving ourselves as the ministers of God, in much patience, in afflictions, in necessities, in distresses . . . 

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I found this Crock Pot at a thrift some years ago, and I took it to the checkout table with some concern.


I pointed out a big spot that was covered with black crusted burnt gunk.

"Oh, you can get that off. That's a great pot. You can scrub that burnt stain right out."

She was so confident that I could get it clean that I bought it and took it home for a good scrub. And the thrift store cashier was right – it was a great Crock Pot, and I did get the burned greasy gunk off it. 


Since then, I have found many items priced ridiculously low –because they were dirty and stained.
  
This solid surface cutting board appeared to be deeply stained, but the stains came out more easily than I expected. 

This cookie pan cost a dollar – but now that it's clean I think it's worth more.

Last Sunday, I sat next to a very lovely woman in Relief Society, We talked for a moment, and when the meeting ended I told her I liked her shoes, and I wondered how she kept them so white.

She told me that she'd bought the shoes at a thrift store, and they were really grungy. She had soaked them in a cleaning solution, and then rubbed them clean.



I was delighted by her story and asked her if I could take a picture of her shoes.

Just last month I bought this pot for two dollars. It's a nice pot, with a non-stick surface and a good lid.

But the bottom of the pot was burned black.

I knew this job would require a scouring pad.  

I found one under the kitchen sink and started scouring. Somewhere in the process, I remembered something a friend had said to me the day before: "Do you know what a scourge is?"

The similarity of the words scour and scourge suddenly struck me, and I left the pot and ran to the computer to see what I could learn about the words.

(This is the pot I was working on.
 You can see that I never quite finished scouring the bottom clean.)

I learned that the words scour and scourge are sometimes used interchangeably, and that that the word scour comes from the Middle English word scǒuren – “to polish, scour; to clean; to beat or whip.”

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And so Pilate, willing to content the people, released Barabbas unto them, and delivered Jesus, when he had scourged him, to be crucified. 

And they clothed him with purple, and plaited a crown of thorns, and put it about his head, And began to salute him, Hail, King of the Jews!

 And they smote him on the head with a reed, and did spit upon him, and bowing their knees worshipped him.

And when they had mocked him, they took off the purple from him, and put his own clothes on him, and led him out to crucify him.

Crucifixion was an agonizing, torturous death, but Jesus endured a torture that was nearly as, or perhaps equally, excruciating before he ever got to the cross. This was the pain he suffered when he was scourged.


Scourging was possibly the worst kind of flogging administered by ancient courts. Scourging was not normally a form of execution, but it certainly was brutal enough to be fatal in many cases. A person certainly could be beaten to death by the scourge if that was desired. Its purpose was not only to cause great pain, but to humiliate as well. It was belittling, debasing, and demeaning. 

The scourge was not designed merely to bruise or leave welts on the victim. It was a whip with several thongs or strands, each perhaps as much as three feet long, and the strands were weighted with lead balls or pieces of bone. This instrument was designed to lacerate. The weighted thongs struck the skin so violently that it broke open.

 

The victim of a scourging was bound to a post or frame, stripped of his clothing, and beaten with the flagellum from the shoulders to the loins. The beating left the victim bloody and weak, in unimaginable pain, and near the point of death.

It is no doubt that weakness from his scourging was largely the reason Jesus was unable to carry his cross all the way to Golgotha (Matt. 27:32 ).¹

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“We do not know, we cannot tell, no mortal mind can conceive the full import of what Christ did in Gethsemane.We know He sweat great drops of blood from every pore as He drained the dregs of that bitter cup His Father had given Him.

“We know He suffered, both body and spirit, more than it is possible for man to suffer, except it be unto death …

“We know that He lay prostrate upon the ground as the pains and agonies of an infinite burden caused Him to tremble and would that He might not drink the bitter cup” (Elder Bruce R. McConkie, “The Purifying Power of Gethsemane,” Ensign, Apr. 2011, 57).

     He is despised and rejected of men;

 A man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief:

 And we hid as it were our faces from him; 

He was despised, and we esteemed him not.

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The second-hand items I have shown here have been rejected, perhaps, because they were considered unclean – stained and uncleanable – and therefore of little or no worth.

But I cleaned them. I scoured and soaked the stains out. 

Of course, I can't remove every stain. I don't have that ability. I don't have that power.

But I know someone who does.

He, Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior has the power.The Power to Heal us, The Power to Comfort us, The Power to cleanse us, and The Power to make us whole .

Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows:

 Yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.

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.  

(Isaiah 53:3 - 5) 

On this day we celebrate our Savior's life: His sacrifices; His suffering; His miraculous healings – And His Great Triumph over Death and Sin.

And that is good news, indeed.

Hallelujah Amen!

1. Much of the information about the scourging and suffering of Christ is from "The Scourging of Jesus" by David McClister.

Spinning My Wheels

If it had been a woman who called me—the Relief Society president, for example—I think I would have said no.

But it was not a woman. It was a very nice man who had recently returned to the church after a long period of inactivity, and he was serving as the Elder's Quorum president. So I said, yes, I would take dinner to a neighbor that night, because, he told me, she was pregnant and she was having a hard time.

I guess the fact that I, too, was pregnant and was having a hard time was not something this man had considered. I dragged my tired, swollen body to the kitchen and went to work. Three hours later, I took a large pan of lasagna, a batch of homemade breadsticks, and a salad to my neighbor, grumbling all the way. Then I drove home, fell into bed, and told my kids to eat whatever they could find.

Some years later:

I took a trip with some friends to a town where we knew there was a great thrift shop. After scoring some great deals in the basement, we went upstairs, where the “nicer” (aka more expensive) items were on display. I looked around for a few minutes, but I didn't see anything I wanted there, so I sat in the lobby and waited for my friends.

A man came in smiling and cheerfully greeted me in a voice that carried a strong Spanish accent.

Halfway through the lobby, he stopped. His eyes were fixed on a woman's winter coat, a very nice coat in good condition. I heard him ask the woman at the desk what size the coat was, and how much it cost. He seemed delighted about the size—perfect for his wife—and although the price was more money than he had, he didn't let that get him down for long. He asked if could pay half of the thirty dollar price tag that day, and come back on Friday with the rest. The sales clerk agreed, and the man beamed as he left the store.

Suddenly I had the idea to pay the rest of the coat. How nice it would be, I thought, for the man to come back to the store after cashing his paycheck on Friday and find that he didn't owe a penny. This was certainly a case where the fifteen dollars I gave would be multiplied for his happiness. And I would tell the woman at the desk that if the man asked who had paid his bill, she should say, “just someone who who is trying to be more like Jesus.”

I was very happy about my plan, but there was one small hitch: I had no cash with me at the moment. But had some in my big bag, which I had left locked in my friend's car.

I found my friend and asked her if she could help me get my money from the car. She asked me what I had found to buy, and I somewhat hesitantly told her why I wanted the money. I was surprised when she responded with some scorn. “What? He doesn't need your money. He'll be fine. And we need to leave soon, anyway.” The other friend that had come with us agreed, and they moved to the checkout station to pay for their things.

I was surprised. These were warm-hearted, kind, generous women, and I didn't understand why they reacted so negatively. I didn't see that had a choice, though, so I reluctantly followed my friends out of the store.

We were about halfway to the car when I happened to put my hand in my pocket. I felt something, and was stunned when I pulled out two bills—a five and a ten. 

As I looked back toward the thrift store, I heard my friend saying, “Come on, Marnie! I'm supposed to meet a guy in ten minutes to buy some skis!”

I put the money back in my pocket and got in the car.

If, perhaps, there is some Grand Council keeping score, I don't believe either of these events will get me any points. In the first one, I did the charitable act, but I did it grudgingly, without love. In the second one, I had charity in my heart, but I didn't have the courage to act.

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When I was a teenager, a teacher taught our class about the doctrine found in James 2:26: “For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also.”

The teacher explained that faith without works—and I'll include works without faith—is like rowing a boat using one oar. You'll be moving, but you won't get anywhere. That's just how I felt after these events. I'd been moving, but really I was just spinning my wheels, and I didn't—and still don't—feel good about the way I handled these two situations.

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I wrote this several years ago, but looking at it now, I see a lesson I hadn't found before—a message about ministering.

The work of ministering is to do the work of the Lord on the earth—to represent Him among the people. Ministering is motivated by Christlike love. It requires both a compassionate heart and willing action.

And also, ye yourselves will succor those that stand in need of your succor; ye will administer of your substance unto him that standeth in need; and ye will not suffer that the beggar putteth up his petition to you in vain, and turn him out to perish.
For behold, are we not all beggars? Do we not all depend upon the same Being, even God, for all the substance which we have, for both food and raiment, and for gold, and for silver, and for all the riches which we have of every kind? And behold, even at this time, ye have been calling on his name, and begging for a remission of your sins. (Mosiah 2:16-17)

Jesus Christ served others throughout His mortal life. He did so by teaching, healing, praying, and being compassionate. He loved those He served. He wanted them to be happy. During His life, He challenged people to follow Him (see Luke 9:23). 

Christ encouraged all who would listen to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the sick, and provide all kinds of service to one another. 

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Can we—imperfect, sometimes fearful, occasionally self-absorbed, maybe judgmental mortals really find a way to minister like our Lord and Savior did?

Maybe.

We can't feed 4,000 hungry people—but we can take a loaf of bread to a busy friend, or make a generous donation to a local food pantry.

We can't heal the blind—but we can drive a neighbor to a doctor's appointment.

We can't care for all the suffering children in the world—but we can take a restless toddler on our lap during a church meeting.

We can't change the fact that there are poor people in the world—the Savior himself said, "For ye have the poor with you always, and whensoever ye will ye may do them good . . .  but we can be generous in our fast offerings and support organizations that serve the needy.

We cannot cleanse the earth of its physical and spiritual pollution—but we can mop a floor or wash a window for someone who is overwhelmed for a season. And we can stand as witnesses to the truth to those who seem to need a little firmer foundation.

We can't turn back time to restore youth. But we can visit and minister to those who've had a little more time on this planet than we have.

I was struck by the of this wisdom and truth of this statement from Sister Bonnie Parkin: 

"Most ministering opportunities are spontaneous, not planned in advance. Much of the Savior’s ministering seemed almost incidental, happening while He was on His way to somewhere else—while He was doing something else."

To minister this way requires that we have an eye turned outward, a heart open to compassion and the courage and faith to act. When we do this our opportunities to serve increase, and our love for those we minister to—and our love for Savior—blossoms and grows.  

So, let's open our eyes, open our hearts, and open our arms. I think we just might find ourselves part of some ministering miracles.



Sources:

https://www.mormon.org/blog/christianity-is-about-serving-others

Bonnie D. Parkin. "Personal Ministry: Sacred and Precious" BYU Devotional, Feb. 13, 2007 

I've Done the Work

Only once, in the fourteen years I have been dealing with cancer and its associated ills, have I wished and prayed to die. I had been very sick for months, and none of the doctors I had seen could tell me what was wrong with me.¹

One day, a friend stopped by to check on me and found me nearly debilitated and in great pain. She felt that I should see a neurologist immediately, and somehow managed to get me to her car.

The ride was excruciating. I curled up in a ball in the back seat of the car in agony. Every bump on the road, every beam of light through the windows brought on a fresh wave of pain and nausea.  I felt that anything would be better than what I was experiencing, and I cried out in my heart to God, “Please take me, Father, please let me leave this body, please, please, let me come home!”

Obviously, my prayer was not answered. That was not the Lord's plan for me. And now I'm very glad that I did not get the rather selfish desire of my heart.

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This week, we celebrate the resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. It is a wondrous event to honor and a beautiful thing to ponder.

It is not unusual at this time of year to read or hear a statement like this: “Christ was half-mortal and half-immortal. He didn't have to die. He willingly gave His life for us.” And of course, that's true.

But I believe that when we think this way, we might miss an important point: Christ, because of the immortality He inherited from His Father, could have chosen to die at any point along the tortuous path from Gethsemane to Calgary – or any time before. It is the fact that He chose to live as long as He did that makes for a more meaningful celebration. I suspect that dying was the easiest thing he ever did – and the option dangled alluringly before Him through some very rough territory. His suffering in the Garden was profoundly and infinitely agonizing – so much so that it astounded Him, and made Him recoil. But he held on.

And he was withdrawn from them about a stone's cast, and kneeled down, and prayed,
Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done. And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground. (Luke 22:41 – 44)

But if they would not repent they must suffer even as I; Which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit—and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrink— Nevertheless, glory be to the Father, and I partook and finished my preparations unto the children of men. (D&C 19:17 - 19)

Weakened and fatigued after His suffering there, the soldiers added to His agony:

Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the common hall, and gathered unto him the whole band of soldiers.
And they stripped him, and put on him a scarlet robe.
And when they had platted a crown of thorns, they put it upon his head, and a reed in his right hand: and they bowed the knee before him, and mocked him, saying, Hail, King of the Jews! And they spit upon him, and took the reed, and smote him on the head.
(Matthew 27:27 - 30)

And the world, because of their iniquity, shall judge him to be a thing of naught; wherefore they scourge him, and he suffereth it; and they smite him, and he suffereth it.  Yea, they spit upon him, and he suffereth it, because of his loving kindness and his long-suffering towards the children of men. (1 Nephi 19:9)

And they that passed by railed on him, wagging their heads, and saying, Ah, thou that destroyest the temple, and buildest it in three days, Save thyself, and come down from the cross. Likewise also the chief priests mocking said among themselves with the scribes, He saved others; himself he cannot save. (Mark 15:29 - 31)

Certainly He could have saved Himself. But He did not. He knew His mission on this earth was not yet complete.

After this, Jesus knowing that all things were now accomplished, that the scripture might be fulfilled, saith, I thirst. Now there was set a vessel full of vinegar: and they filled a sponge with vinegar, and put it upon hyssop, and put it to his mouth. When Jesus therefore had received the vinegar, he said, It is finished: and he bowed his head, and gave up the ghost. (John 19:28 – 30)

“It is Finished.”

“I did the work thou gavest me. Receive my Spirit unto Thee.” ²

As we appropriately celebrate his glorious resurrection, may we also remember the horrors of His final hours, and that it was His love for His Heavenly Father, and for all of us, that kept Him on the job until He knew He was finished.

Although my mortal pain and burdens cannot be compared to His, I only hope that I can have a small portion of His faith and courage – to hold on until I can humbly say, "I’ve done the work thou gavest me; Receive my spirit unto thee.”

This is my message of hope, for Easter and for every other day.

¹ Several months later I learned the cause of these symptoms: my cancer had metastasized and formed a tumor in my brain. 

² "Behold the Great Redeemer Die," Hymns of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 191. Text: Eliza R. Snow, Music: George Careless. See also the beautiful hymn "Reverently and Meekly Now," Hymns, 185

To read other posts about Easter, click here or here.

 This video, from the LDS.org website, presents a moving depiction of the Savior's suffering.