18 July 1999
Mike Tueller
Last week we talked about the spectrum of ancient belief in the saving power of Jesus--some ancient Christians focused on the power of His teachings, while others focused on His death and resurrection. We looked at the teachings side most closely last week, so this is the week for the atonement. The reading for this week was very short--just 30 verses (even on my expanded schedule), including only the scene in Gethsemane. That's a pretty small part of the picture of the atonement: most of the details of the crucifixion are left for next week, with the resurrection coming the week after that.
The way these lessons are divided up, it makes the most sense to deal with the doctrine of the atonement today, and leave the actual events for next week. So we're going to expand far beyond those thirty verses and see what we can learn about what the atonement actually is and does.
1. The Suffering in Gethsemane.
I would be remiss if I didn't go through at least some of the scriptures we read for today.
Read Mark 14:32-36.
Let's not focus on the events themselves here, but on impressions. What feeling do you get from the description given by Mark? (I'll take any answer, of course, but the impression I get is one of overwhelming sorrow and anxiety, a feeling from which Jesus, knowing even as much as He does, is not exempt.)
We have to think a little bit about what this experience meant to Jesus as a person. We don't often think about Jesus as a person--we think about Him as the Son of God or as the Savior. And in those capacities, of course He knew what He had to do, and He knew what the end would be. But Mark is more interested in His human side, and, as a person, He had never died before. Death is a frightening experience under any circumstances; none of us has any idea--and Jesus couldn't have known on a personal level either--how it's going to feel. Needless to say, taking on Him the sins of the world at this point (and no-one knew how that would feel!) didn't make the experience any easier.
Let's move on to Luke, which takes a slightly different angle.
Read Luke 22:39-44.
You can already see that Luke's account is substantially shorter. I see a sort of break in the verses we just read. Up to verse 42, while Jesus does pray that He will not have to drink the bitter cup, nevertheless He seems very composed. We don't hear of Him having any anxiety. Luke, then, took the point of view that Jesus's superior knowledge about life and death was able to overcome the purely emotional impact of the experience.
However, then something hits Jesus in verse 43, in a part recorded only by Luke. The scene changes with uncanny suddenness: even though Jesus has shown no anxiety, an angel appears, ready to help Him with what comes next: He suddenly is in agony, and his sweat seems like great drops of blood.
The change of scene makes no sense in terms of Luke's view of the approaching experience. But it does make some sense in terms of what we now understand is actually happening at this point.
Our LDS understanding of what is going on here comes from the Doctrine and Covenants. While you're turning to D & C 19, let me just mention how much we should treasure the account you find there. This is the Savior's own account of what happened at that time. In all the gospels, we've had to rely on someone else's point of view, and not necessarily someone who was there at the time, either. But here we have the view, not just of someone who was there, but of Jesus Himself, who actually underwent this experience.
Read D & C 19:16-19.
We understand, then, that it is our sins coming upon Him that made the Savior suffer so. In small part, we can perhaps even understand this suffering. Each of us has sinned, and I'm sure we remember how our sin made us feel--like an unbearable burden that can never be put down. Thus, we can understand a small piece of what Jesus felt. Of course, it becomes less comprehensible when you multiply that feeling by several billion, but the difference (I think...) is quantitative rather than qualitative.
As a footnote, I should talk briefly about the name "Gethsemane." The name means "olive press." This is surely what the place literally was--a place where olives were pressed to make oil. Symbolically, the name is fitting in another way, when we consider the pressure under which Jesus was put: the sins of generations weighed on Him so heavily that His body began to break down under the strain, much in the way olives do in an olive press.
2. The atonement and forgiveness.
D & C 19 makes the link between this suffering and forgiveness. It does so in a somewhat negative way, but we still need to follow this connection. Verse 17 tells us that if we do not repent, we will suffer as Jesus did. Let's also read verse 15:
Read D & C 19:15.
There are many great scriptures on the relationship between repentance and the atonement, but most of them are similarly negative--and with good reason: the object of the author is usually not simply to celebrate the atonement, but rather to encourage us to do something about it, namely, repent.
Let's now look at some Book of Mormon scriptures which, while similarly negative, perhaps shed a little more light on the positive relationship, that atonement brings forgiveness.
Read 2 Ne. 9:20-24.
While these verses, again, are on the order of "repent or be damned," we can see, especially in verse 21, the idea of "repent and be spared." Jesus has already done the suffering for us: why should we put ourselves through it?
3. Forgiveness and healing.
How does Jesus save us from our sins? Well, I won't pretend to know the exact process, but there is one point of view that I find very interesting; a look at a few scriptures will show a connection we might not make without their prodding:
Read Luke 7:49-50; 18:41-42.
In both these scriptures Jesus says "thy faith hath saved thee." But the situations are very different: one is a healing of blindness, and the other is forgiveness of sins. The word used here is sôzô, which is the same word used whenever Jesus says "thy faith hath made thee whole": it means both "to save" and "to heal." By using exactly the same language in each case, Jesus seems to be showing that sins are like illness, in two ways: they harm us, and He can heal them. (Some of this was discussed in a previous lesson.)
4. "Name withheld."
One of the most widely-read books in the church is Spencer W. Kimball's The Miracle of Forgiveness. The thing that's always been most striking to me about this book is the title: Forgiveness is a miracle. I'll try to show you how, but I'm bumping up against our LDS social conventions. You see, traditionally, in the church, we don't discuss our sins in public. This is because, when we hear other people discuss their sins, the best possible reaction most of us have is nervousness: many of us have an even worse reaction, like a feeling of (wholly unjustified) arrogant superiority. This is regrettable, because, in failing to mention our personal experience with sin, it becomes very difficult for us to talk about our personal experience with forgiveness, and that is, after all, what Jesus's atonement was all about.
Thus, keeping as best I can within our social conventions, I want to bear my testimony of the most important thing Jesus has ever done for me. I, like all of us, have sinned. (I'm not thinking of any specific sin, even of my own--you can think of times when you have been in the same situation.) When I have sinned, even in a small way, nothing is more clear to me than the fact that my burden is both unbearable and inescapable. I feel weighed down to death. Everything is wrong with the world, or at least, with me. I know that no action I can take can ever erase what I have done. But then I remember or someone reminds me that there is Someone else who can erase what I have done. I go through the repentance process, and the burden is lifted, in a way I have never been able to explain or understand. Something that I know I could never get rid of, with any amount of effort, is suddenly gone, with almost no effort. Can there be any better example of a miracle?
There's something I say about the Ensign that might be taken as a joke--and, in a way, it is. I'll tell you now: the best staff writer at the Ensign is "Name withheld." Now, of course, you know there is no such writer: all those articles are written by members of the church whose names are not revealed because to do so would run counter to our convention of not discussing sin in public. But, honestly, go through the Ensigns over the past couple years, and just read the articles by "Name withheld," and you'll agree with me. All those articles tell about someone who labored under an incredible burden of sin, and then found repentance, forgiveness, and joy. That is what the gospel is all about--and, for my money, we can't hear often enough how wonderful repentance is.
I don't have an actual "Name withheld" article with me (though I'm serious about going home and looking over past Ensigns to see the stories for yourself), but it so happens that we have such an article in the Book of Mormon. Let's read it. This is the story of Alma the Younger. You remember his background: he had rebelled against his father and the Lord and, with the sons of Mosiah, went about working for the destruction of the church. Then, after a visitation by an angel, he reformed his life, and became a great leader of the church. Later, in a wonderful father-son chat with Helaman, he tells about this experience in his own words. I cannot exceed their power, so I'd like to read a very long selection, with which we will close.
Read Alma 36:6-21.
My brothers and sisters, Jesus Christ went through more than we can describe to offer us the gift--the miracle--of forgiveness. Let us all repent and lay hold of the most sweet and exquisite joy that it offers.
Last update: 23 June 1999