Elder Bednar Spring 2013 Conference Address -- Grace?

I wrestled with the talk given by Elder Bednar in the recent General Conference.   It was presented in his usual “take-no-prisoners” and forthright way.  But here was my struggle with him and with his content, and what I and others surely felt as we listened to him.

To begin, I understand that one of the purposes of the leadership of the Church is to teach doctrine, to lay out for the members and for the world what is that doctrine.  I understand that in the societal environment in which we live, it is felt that there must be no equivocating as to that doctrine and to its practice.  I sense the idea is to contrast black and white doctrine as opposed to pervasive value and moral relativism.  I understand the need to establish a non-relativistic bar—a high bar—for the blessing of the members of the Church.  I get the idea with these kinds of talks; after all, although I never have been a leader of the Church on a general, worldwide level, I have been/am a leader on a local level, and as such was/am expected to proclaim the doctrines as they are presented by Church leadership and found in Scripture.

That said, the doctrine that he spoke of in this address was The Law of Chastity, and maybe in his world it is very black and white.  He was very clear and succinct about that Law.  But what I wrestled with was how he portrayed it.  Both the Law itself and how it was treated seemed very much like the “Law of Moses.”  In other words, what I felt about his presentation of the Law of Chastity was that he was forthrightly stating “here is the bar, REACH IT, and I hope for your sake that you can.” “It’s the Law, and you should obey it.”  I felt like I must obey the Law by doing a, b, and c, and reach what may be that very high bar without regard to where I am, or I will certainly go to hell.  

That is not to say that it wouldn’t be to my advantage to obey the Law, but his talk felt (and left me) cold.  I wondered if he or any in his family had struggled with it.  My perception was that he portrayed a God who is up in His heaven waiting for me to not live the Law so that He can damn me.  Elder Bednar threw a “bone” to any who had not reached the high bar by informing them that they can always go to their ecclesiastical leader and confess their sin.  But what happens if one feels so much guilt or shame that he doesn’t know if he can drag himself to the authority?  What happens if one feels so worthless because of his sin(s) that there is no hope for him?  The talk made me feel that such a person just needed to pray a little harder, read scriptures a little longer, confess to the authority, and just “buck up!”

I understand that the rants above are my perception of Elder Bednar’s talk and not likely the intent of his talk.  My perceptions are colored by my life experiences.   I also understand that Church leadership must emphasize different aspects of the Gospel message depending upon their audience.

For example, there are many in the Church who believe that repentance is a kind of Sunday activity, that their actions while not perfect are not so bad and feel some pride and arrogance in that concept.  They likely need to hear messages about consequences of continued disobedience.  They may know about Jesus Christ, but may not necessarily know and their own need of His atonement.

There are others in the Church who because of their own struggles with themselves, with their children, with what life has dealt them, need to hear messages of Christ’s grace and mercy.  They know that they are imperfect and are looking to God for support, solace, and salvation.  (I believe that many Protestants and Evangelicals hear what sinners they are every Sunday and as such place their focus on a “saving Jesus,” as opposed to an LDS Jesus that would seem to emphasize being perfect in performance and works.)

For the former, a message about grace and mercy may be misplaced and ultimately dismissed.  For the later, hearing about what they aren’t or may or may not be doing might fortify their belief in their inability to be “perfect.”   Since I fall in the “later” group, I wrestled with Elder Bednar’s talk.  I prefer the hopeful, loving but forthright talks given by someone like Elder Holland.

In my opinion, if Jesus Christ were to have given Elder Bednar’s talk, it would have been a different talk.  It would have had more grace, more compassion, along with the doctrine. 

I thought of the woman brought to Christ in adultery who the Pharisees wanted to stone.  He could have given her a treatise on the Law of Chastity, the law that the Mosaic Law forbade in no uncertain terms that the Pharisees hypocritically professed to believe, and which was punishable by stoning.  Instead, He said, “go thy way and sin no more.”  She knew that she had done wrong, and He knew that she had likely condemned herself. In His few words, it was as if He said, “what you did was wrong and you likely knew that it was wrong:  I’m not going to preach to you; I want you to be happy and you won’t be happy if you continue this behavior, so don’t keep doing it.”

But then, I am sure there are people who heard his talk and thought it was wonderful and just what they needed (wanted?) to hear.  Not me or others who need grace.

HOW TO FORGIVE OTHERS

WHY IS FORGIVENESS HARD?

by Dr. Alex Lickerman, M.D., on February 1, 2010 in Psychology Today

Forgiveness is hard.  But why?  Perhaps for the following reasons:

1. We’re often reluctant to let go of our anger.  One of the main reasons people get angry is to achieve or regain control.  If we still feel harmed in the now—even years after we actually were—we frequently continue to feel angry.  And it’s inherently difficult, if not impossible, to forgive someone with whom we’re still angry.  This is true even if the predominant reason we’re angry isn’t due to frustration at having lost control but in outrage at the injustice committed against us.  But in the same way soft tissue inflammation is helpful only in the first few days after an injury occurs, often causing even more damage than the original injury if it’s allowed to become chronic, anger—no matter what its cause—if allowed to boil without being harnessed to accomplish anything worthwhile, can cause us far more harm than good.
2. We want to satisfy our sense of justice.  Even if we’re not angry, if we believe our offender doesn’t deserve our forgiveness, we may find ourselves withholding it to avoid appearing to condone what they did to us.
3. Forgiveness may feel like letting our offender off the hook without punishment.  Even if we don’t feel that forgiveness implies we condone the injustice committed against us, to release our anger and forgive our offender may feel like letting them get away without being punished, especially if no other punishment is forthcoming.
4. We wish to harm as we’ve been harmed.  An eye for an eye often feels viscerally satisfying (remember, anger must be discharged in a way that feels satisfying).  If we lack the power to deliver actual harm, harboring anger may feel like a second-best option.  Holding a grudge does in a certain sense feel good.
5. They haven’t apologized.  The power of an apology to open the path to forgiveness can’t be overestimated.  Nor can the ability of withholding an apology—of the refusal to acknowledge a wrong was committed—to block it.
6. When someone commits an injustice, we often cease to see or believe they could be capable of any good. We tend to abstract those who harm us, diminishing them from full-fledged human beings into merely “our offenders.”  This enables us to refuse to allow into our conception of them any room for the possibility that they have positive characteristics or have the capability to do good (much in the same way they abstracted our full-fledged humanity into some label that enabled them to harm us in the first place).

WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO FORGIVE?

To my way of thinking, forgiveness involves recognizing that the person who harmed us is more than just the person who harmed us.  He or she is in fact, whether we want to acknowledge it or not, a full-fledged human being whose full dimension isn’t defined by their foolish decision to harm us in some way (as much as we may wish it were).  At its core I believe forgiveness is an acknowledgment that a person who’s harmed us still has the capacity for good.

Forgiveness requires us to view our offender not as malevolent but as confused—so much so that they would actually believe that by harming us they could somehow become happier (though they would almost certainly be incapable of articulating that as the reason).  Secondly, forgiving requires us to let go—of our anger; of our desire to punish or teach a lesson; of our need to harm our harmer; of the notion that by choosing to forgive an offense we’re in some way condoning an unjust action committed against us or committing an injustice ourselves; of the need for an apology; and of the need for our harmer to change.  For in forgiving another their transgression against us, we’re ultimately seeking to free ourselves.  Forgiving, as the saying also goes, doesn’t mean forgetting.  Nor does it have to mean returning the person we’ve forgiven to their former status in our lives.  It means we move on healed from the hurt ! that’s been done to us.

HOW DOES FORGIVING OTHERS BENEFIT US?

1. Forgiving others is the only way to break a cycle of violence (whether physical or otherwise).  As complex as it may be, consider the core reason why the Israeli/Palestinian conflict continues to this day.
2. In order to forgive, we must manifest a life-condition of compassion.  In Nichiren Buddhism this is called the life-condition of the bodhisattva.  A bodhisattva is someone whose most pressing concern lies with the happiness of others.  Attaining this life-condition benefits no one more than it does us, as it is a life-condition of joy.
3. In order to forgive we must let go of our anger.  If we continue to hold onto anger, it often leaks out against others who’ve committed no crime against us, as well as colors all our experiences, often ruining our ability to feel joy in many aspects of life.

FINDING THE COMPASSION TO FORGIVE

In order to muster compassion for one who’s harmed us, we must first believe with our lives that all people originally desire to become happy.  From there we must find a way to realize our offender has simply gone completely awry in their pursuit of their own happiness and pity them as we would a misguided child.  For no matter how sophisticated a person may seem, how confident and wise and successful, how could an intent to harm arise from anything other than a delusion?

The question will naturally arise:  are some people’s crimes so heinous that they don’t merit forgiveness?  Parents who’ve abused us?  Children who’ve rebelled against us?  Spouses who’ve abandoned us?  Friends who’ve betrayed us?  Strangers who harmed us or our loved ones?  Or even tyrants who’ve killed our families?  Is Hitler, for example, forgivable?  Can one forgive a person without forgiving their actions?

I would suggest only this:  that if you find yourself holding onto a grudge against someone who’s grievously harmed you, for you to find a way to forgive them—for you to become the kind of person who can—will not only first and foremost benefit you, but ultimately may have the power to transform the life of the person you’re forgiving.  Not always of course.  But sometimes.  And if it does, in forgiving them you’re not only setting yourself free, you’re actually contributing to something of greater importance, something the world is literally crying out for in more places than you could probably name: