Showing posts with label Repentance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Repentance. Show all posts

Sunday, December 3, 2017

The Humility to Be Cleansed

Image from LDS Media Library

How many times have we asked the question to ourselves, what if Christ came today? For me, it's a daunting question. Asking myself something like that, I never feel ready. I can't help but think that today my house is a disaster, I haven't read my scriptures, or it's been too long since I've actually said a sincere prayer. Whenever I think of seeing Christ, I get a little nervous, because I don't want him to see all of the weaknesses and imperfections that I have.

There's one story from Christ's ministry that calls my attention to this fact. It's in John 13, when Christ—the Christ—begins to wash the feet of his disciples. I'm not at all surprised by Simon Peter's reaction in verse 6 and 8:
"Peter saith unto him, Lord, dost thou wash my feet? . . . Thou shalt never wash my feet."
Um, yeah. If I were him, I'd be thinking the same thing. What is the Lord of heaven and earth doing kneeling down and washing my feet—the dirtiest, filthiest part of my dirt-ridden body? I don't want him to see that; I'd rather clean my feet myself. There's no need for him to stoop so low as to help me, someone who should be cleaning his feet.

And yet, Christ gives a blunt reply to this type of thinking, to which Peter realizes just how significant this action was for him:
8 . . . Jesus answered him, If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with me.
9 Simon Peter saith unto him, Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands and my head.
This is Christ's answer to me too. For if I don't allow Christ to cleanse me, I have no part in his kingdom.

I had always just thought of this as a story about Christ's humility, but it's even more than that. This is a story about Peter's humility, and mine as well, if I can follow in the same footsteps.

How humble the disciples must have been in order to let Christ, their Messiah, wash their feet. It's an interesting idea to think about, but it's true. Just as Christ had to show humility by cleaning their feet, they had to show humility in allowing him to do so.

The same goes in my own life. I have to be humble enough to allow my Redeemer to cleanse me of every faulty aspect of my character, even the darkest and filthiest part that I would prefer no one to ever see.

Which means that even though I may be embarrassed about the pile of dishes in the sink or the untouched scriptures on the shelf, I have to be willing to tell the Lord, "Not my feet only, but also my hands and my head." Here, Lord, is every part of me. Help me to become more like thee.

Sunday, November 12, 2017

The Sinner, the Accuser, and the Savior

Image from LDS Media

How often do we find ourselves looking down on someone for their sins? How many times have we ourselves been looked down upon? We've each been, at one time or another, either the sinner or the accuser in our own lives.

Studying the story of the adulteress woman in John 8 (watch the Bible Videos version for a powerful take on it), I noticed that this story exemplifies Christ's role as mediator between those who are accused and those who do the accusing.

In this story, the Pharisees rudely push a woman in front of Christ and present the question, "This woman was taken in adultery, in the very act. Now Moses in the law commanded us, that such should be stoned: but what sayest thou?" (John 8:4–5).

If we had been there that day, where would we most likely be looking? A crowd has just come barging in, dragging a woman and accusing her of one of the three greatest sins (Alma 39:3–5). Not only is the accusation condemning, but the Pharisees had caught her "in the very act." She probably is not looking like someone who expected to be out in public. And by the time they got her to the temple, she would have been a mess. So again, where are everyone's eyes likely to be?

Directly on her.

What shame she must have felt. She must have sensed everyone's eyes boring into her as she hid her face from their stares.

But the very first thing that Christ does to answer the Pharisee's question shows his deep understanding and love for her: "Jesus stooped down, and with his finger wrote on the ground" (John 8:6). Again imagining that we are there, what is Christ doing to our attention in that moment? We are staring at the woman, when suddenly, our gaze is caught by his movement. All eyes would have been drawn to his finger, all thoughts focused on his writing.

No longer would the crowd be concentrated on the woman and her sin, staring at her with condemning or sorrowful eyes. He pulls everyone's attention away from the sinner and onto Him.

This is symbolic of what Christ does for all of us. We are all sinners to one degree or another, and we all have the opportunity to "go, and sin no more" (John 8:11). Through the Atonement, Christ has taken upon himself our sin. And because of the Atonement, we will no longer have to feel the shame that comes from our past mistakes.

But in this story, Christ doesn't just stop there. Not only did he stoop down and draw all attention onto him, but when he stood back up, he continued to teach. The first words out of his mouth were, "He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her" (John 8:7). This is the second lesson of the Atonement that we can find in this story. For Christ's role is to not only to take upon himself our sins, but also to encourage us to repent. With this invitation, Christ turns the attention of everyone in the crowd back onto themselves. 

All eyes started on the sinner but were drawn to the Savior and then were commanded to turn to themselves and their own lives. For that's what the Atonement is about. We can't experience the full saving power unless we stop judging others and change ourselves.

We've all made mistakes. We've all sinned. Maybe today, it's the adulteress woman in the middle, but what if it were you? For it could be you, couldn't it? Isn't that what Christ is saying here? That we all stand no higher than this woman? So why do we judge her?

Truly, none of us would be able to cast that first stone.