The Atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ is the heart and core and center of revealed religion.

Elder Bruce R. McConkie Christ and the Creation

Spiritual submissiveness is so much more than bended knee or bowed head. Alas, insofar as we “mind the things of the flesh” (Rom. 8:5), we simply cannot have the “mind of Christ.” (1 Cor. 2:16.)

Jesus laid down this sobering requirement: “Except ye … become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.” (Matt. 18:3.)

One of Jesus’ prophets delineated—with submissiveness thrice stipulated—how a disciple can become “as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father.” (Mosiah 3:19.)

. . . .

Later, in Gethsemane, the suffering Jesus began to be “sore amazed” (Mark 14:33), or, in the Greek, “awestruck” and “astonished.”

Imagine, Jehovah, the Creator of this and other worlds, “astonished”! Jesus knew cognitively what He must do, but not experientially. He had never personally known the exquisite and exacting process of an atonement before. Thus, when the agony came in its fulness, it was so much, much worse than even He with his unique intellect had ever imagined! No wonder an angel appeared to strengthen him! (See Luke 22:43.)

The cumulative weight of all mortal sins—past, present, and future—pressed upon that perfect, sinless, and sensitive Soul! All our infirmities and sicknesses were somehow, too, a part of the awful arithmetic of the Atonement. (See Alma 7:11–12; Isa. 53:3–5; Matt. 8:17.) The anguished Jesus not only pled with the Father that the hour and cup might pass from Him, but with this relevant citation. “And he said, Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee; take away this cup from me.” (Mark 14:35–36.)

. . . .

Even so, Jesus maintained this sublime submissiveness, as He had in Gethsemane: “Nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt.” (Matt. 26:39.)

While bearing our sins, our infirmities, our sicknesses, and bringing to pass the Atonement (see Alma 7:11–12), Jesus became the perfect Shepherd, making these lines of Paul’s especially relevant and reassuring: “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?” (Rom. 8:35.)

 

Elder Neal A. Maxwell
Willing to Submit, Ensign, May, 1985

Elder Neal A. Maxwell was called as an Assistant to the Quorum of the Twelve in 1974.

In October General Conference in 1975, President Spencer W. Kimball reconstituted the First Quorum of the Seventy as a General Authority Quorum.  President Kimball explained, “With this move, the three governing quorums of the Church defined by revelations—the First Presidency, the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, and the First Quorum of the Seventy—have been set in their places as revealed by the Lord. This will make it possible to handle efficiently the present heavy workload and to prepare for the increasing expansion and acceleration of the work, anticipating the day when the Lord will return to take direct charge of His church and kingdom.”

One year later, in October, 1976,  President Kimball reorganized the First Quorum of the Seventy by calling “all of the Assistants to the Twelve into the First Quorum of Seventy” and calling four new members into that quorum.  The “First Council of the Seventy,” which had formerly governed all Seventies in the Church, was replaced by the Presidency of the Seventy, consisting of seven presidents, as we have today.

Thus, Elder Maxwell became a member of the First Quorum of the Seventy and was sustained as one of the seven presidents of the Seventy in 1976.  In 1981, he was called as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.

In the October, 1976, General Conference, after being sustained as a member of the First Quorum of the Seventy and one of its presidents, Elder Maxwell gave a masterful talk, entitled “Notwithstanding My Weakness”.  Following are excerpts from that talk.

Thirty years ago President Dilworth Young ordained me a seventy, but only after extracting a promise that I would preach the gospel the rest of my life. His stern demeanor was such that I felt I’d been asked to jump off a tall building. I went over the side saluting. Now I salute that same selfless, sweet seventy, President Young, once again.

Now may I speak, not to the slackers in the Kingdom, but to those who carry their own load and more; not to those lulled into false security, but to those buffeted by false insecurity, who, though laboring devotedly in the Kingdom, have recurring feelings of falling forever short.

. . . .

The first thing to be said of this feeling of inadequacy is that it is normal. There is no way the Church can honestly describe where we must yet go and what we must yet do without creating a sense of immense distance. Following celestial road signs while in telestial traffic jams is not easy, especially when we are not just moving next door—or even across town.

. . . .

Some of us who would not chastise a neighbor for his frailties have a field day with our own. Some of us stand before no more harsh a judge than ourselves, a judge who stubbornly refuses to admit much happy evidence and who cares nothing for due process. Fortunately, the Lord loves us more than we love ourselves. A constructive critic truly cares for that which he criticizes, including himself, whereas self-pity is the most condescending form of pity; it soon cannibalizes all other concerns.

Brothers and sisters, the scriptures are like a developmental display window through which we can see gradual growth—along with this vital lesson: it is direction first, then velocity! Enoch’s unique people were improved “in process of time.” (Moses 7:21.) Jesus “received not of the fulness at first, but received grace for grace” (D&C 93:12) and even He grew and “increased in wisdom and stature” (Luke 2:52).

. . . .

What can we do to manage these vexing feelings of inadequacy? Here are but a few suggestions:

1. We can distinguish more clearly between divine discontent and the devil’s dissonance, between dissatisfaction with self and disdain for self. We need the first and must shun the second, remembering that when conscience calls to us from the next ridge, it is not solely to scold but also to beckon.

. . . .

4. We can allow for the agency of others (including our children) before we assess our adequacy. Often our deliberate best is less effectual because of someone else’s worst.

5. We can write down, and act upon, more of those accumulating resolutions for self-improvement that we so often leave, unrecovered, at the edge of sleep.

. . . .

8. We can make quiet but more honest inventories of our strengths, since, in this connection, most of us are dishonest bookkeepers and need confirming “outside auditors.” He who was thrust down in the first estate delights to have us put ourselves down. Self-contempt is of Satan; there is none of it in heaven. We should, of course, learn from our mistakes, but without forever studying the instant replays as if these were the game of life itself.

. . . .

10. We can also keep moving. Only the Lord can compare crosses, but all crosses are easier to carry when we keep moving. Men finally climbed Mount Everest, not by standing at its base in consuming awe, but by shouldering their packs and by placing one foot in front of another. Feet are made to move forward—not backward!

11. We can know that when we have truly given what we have, it is like paying a full tithe; it is, in that respect, all that was asked. The widow who cast in her two mites was neither self-conscious nor searching for mortal approval.

. . . .

14. Finally, we can accept this stunning, irrevocable truth: Our Lord can lift us from deep despair and cradle us midst any care. We cannot tell Him anything about aloneness or nearness!

Yes, brothers and sisters, this is a gospel of grand expectations, but God’s grace is sufficient for each of us. Discouragement is not the absence of adequacy but the absence of courage, and our personal progress should be yet another way we witness to the wonder of it all!

True, there are no instant Christians, but there are constant Christians!

Elder Neal A. Maxwell

Notwithstanding My Weakness,” Ensign, Nov 1976, 12

Real hope keeps us “anxiously engaged” in good causes even when these appear to be losing causes on the mortal scoreboard (see D&C 58:27). Likewise, real hope is much more than wishful musing. It stiffens, not slackens, the spiritual spine. Hope is serene, not giddy, eager without being naive, and pleasantly steady without being smug. Hope is realistic anticipation which takes the form of a determination—not only to survive adversity but, moreover, to “endure … well” to the end (D&C 121:8).

Though otherwise a “lively” attribute, hope stands quietly with us at funerals. Our tears are just as wet, but not because of despair. Rather, they are tears of heightened appreciation evoked by poignant separation. Those tears of separation change, ere long, becoming tears of glorious anticipation.

Real hope inspires quiet Christian service, not flashy public fanaticism. Finley Peter Dunne impishly observed, “A fanatic is a man who does what he thinks the Lord would do if He knew the facts” (quoted in The Third—and Possibly the Best—637 Best Things Anybody Ever Said, comp. Robert Byrne [1986], no. 549).

Indeed, when we are unduly impatient with an omniscient God’s timing, we really are suggesting that we know what is best. Strange, isn’t it—we who wear wristwatches seek to counsel Him who oversees cosmic clocks and calendars.

Because God wants us to come home after having become more like Him and His Son, part of this developmental process, of necessity, consists of showing unto us our weaknesses. Hence, if we have ultimate hope we will be submissive, because, with His help, those weaknesses can even become strengths (see Ether 12:27).

Elder Neal A. Maxwell

Hope through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, Ensign, Nov 1998, 61

“The most important thing we can do in preparing individuals to receive the full blessings of the Atonement is to understand it and to believe in it ourselves. By understanding and believing in the Atonement personally, you and I can teach and testify of the Atonement with greater gratitude, greater love, and greater power.

. . . .

“. . . the Atonement of Jesus Christ blesses us in so many ways. Through it and it alone, a remission of our sins, bringing the needed emancipation discussed earlier, can occur.

“Likewise, the Atonement makes significant personal progress possible by what the Book of Mormon calls “faith unto repentance” in Jesus, in the Atonement, and in the Father’s plan of salvation (see Alma 34:15–17). Otherwise, individuals who do not have faith unto repentance will wrongly reason, ‘Why bother to repent?  Little wonder the scriptures say that human ‘despair cometh because of iniquity” (Moro. 10:22). The Atonement, instead, can bring us a ‘brightness of hope’ even amid our losses, crosses, sorrows, and disappointments (2 Ne. 31:20).”

Elder Neal A. Maxwell

Testifying of the Great and Glorious Atonement,” Ensign, Oct. 2001, 10. From a Church satellite broadcast on conversion and retention given at the Provo Missionary Training Center on 29 August 1999.

Yes, brothers and sisters, this is a gospel of grand expectations, but God’s grace is sufficient for each of us. Discouragement is not the absence of adequacy but the absence of courage, and our personal progress should be yet another way we witness to the wonder of it all!

True, there are no instant Christians, but there are constant Christians!

If we so live, we too can say in personal prospectus, “And I soon go to the place of my rest, which is with my Redeemer; for … then shall I see his face with pleasure” (Enos 1:27; italics added) for then will our confidence “wax strong in the presence of God,” (D&C 121:45; italics added), and He who cannot lie will attest to our adequacy with the warm words “Well done.”

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Elder Neal A. Maxwell
Notwithstanding My Weakness, General Conference, October, 1976

We can contemplate how far we have already come in the climb along the pathway to perfection; it is usually much further than we acknowledge, and such reflections restore resolve. . . . We can know that when we have truly given what we have, it is like paying a full tithe; it is, in that respect, all that was asked. . . . Finally, we can accept this stunning, irrevocable truth: Our Lord can lift us from deep despair and cradle us midst any care. . . . This is a gospel of grand expectations, but God’s grace is sufficient for each of us if we remember that there are no instant Christians.

.

Elder Neal A. Maxwell
Notwithstanding My Weakness, pp. 9-11, (Deseret Book, 1991) emphasis in original

Jesus’ instructions concerning discipleship involve both substance and sequence: “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me” (Luke 9:23; emphasis added). Elsewhere, Moroni declared the need for us to deny ourselves “all ungodliness” (Moro. 10:32), thus including both large and small sins. While boulders surely block our way, loose gravel slows discipleship, too. Even a small stone can become a stumbling block.

Elder Neal A. Maxwell
Deny Yourselves of All Ungodliness, General Conference, April, 1995

Prayer, in fact, is to be a reflection of our attitude toward God and life. In this sense, we can always be praying. (Luke 18:1.)

Clearly, however, since praying is a part of living, if we are not living righteously the quality of our prayers will be affected.

Elder Neal A. Maxwell
All These Things Shall Give Thee Experience, pages 92-93

This is a doctrine, likewise, which reminds us mortals that we do not have all of the data. There are many times when we must withhold judgment and trust God lest we misread, as did Jesus’ disciples when they inquired about the man blind from birth and Jesus gave the immortal reply: ‘Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him’ (see John 9:1-3).

Trusting God’s plan even in the midst of ‘all these things’ is thus made easier, because he has so declared his purposes, plainly and simply, concerning the proving and tutoring dimensions of mortality.

Elder Neal A. Maxwell
But for a Small Moment, p94
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I grew up on ranches and farms in Colorado and Minnesota. In the spring, we used a number of different farm implements to prepare the ground for planting. One of those implements was the harrow.

Some harrows use sharp round disks and others have tines. One of the harrows we used consisted of a heavy rectangular metal frame with several crossbars. On each crossbar, several tines were mounted. Each of these tines was like a thick and rugged dagger with a sharp point on one end. The sharp point faced downward toward the earth.

We attached the harrow to a tractor and dragged it back and forth over the field. The sharp point of each tine cut into the earth, digging through the surface and opening up fresh earth where new seeds would be planted. Unless the earth was broken and dug up, our crop would not grow. If seeds were dropped on the old surface, few would take root, and those that did would not thrive. We cut and broke the earth in the spring so it would produce a good harvest in the fall.

If the earth were a living being, the harrow would have felt like an instrument of torture. The earth had developed a hard surface that resisted penetration by productive crops. While that hard surface was not very fertile, the soil just beneath was capable of producing a rich harvest. Without the harrow, however, the good soil would never be exposed to light and air and seeds of growth. It would always have possessed the potential to bless us, but that potential would never be fulfilled.

The scriptures frequently use the harrow as a metaphor for the painful and difficult experiences that often seem to precede major spiritual change.

Alma the Younger was traveling through the land committing terrible sins when an angel appeared to stop him. Alma was struck down by the angel and describes the experience of confronting the true character and consequences of his actions:

“I was racked with eternal torment, for my soul was harrowed up to the greatest degree and racked with all my sins.” (Alma 36:12) (emphasis added)

This experience with a spiritual harrow is key to preparing Alma for his later repentance. He says:

“As I was thus racked with torment, while I was harrowed up by the memory of my many sins, behold, I remembered also to have heard my father prophesy unto the people concerning the coming of one Jesus Christ, a Son of God, to atone for the sins of the world.” (Alma 36:17) (emphasis added)

In an echo of Alma’s earlier problems that must have been particularly painful for him, Alma has a son who also commits serious sins. Corianton is sent to the Zoramites on a mission but abandons his work and is involved in sexual sin. Alma meets with Corianton to call him to repentance. In the process of doing so, Alma bluntly confronts his son with the magnitude of his sins and their consequences. Then he explains his reason for doing so.

“I would not dwell upon your crimes, to harrow up your soul, if it were not for your good.” (Alma 39:7) (emphasis added)

Alma is providing Corianton with the same painful experience that Alma himself learned was necessary for him to make a permanent change in his earlier life.

The blessing of the harrow and its attendant pain is not restricted only to the sinful who need to repent. It often comes through unearned trials that come into our lives. When we need to grow, when we need to change, when we need to take steps up to a higher and better place, sometimes the Lord must allow the harrow to cross and re-cross our lives. As it does so, it opens up our souls and fixes our attention on our Savior.

Elder Maxwell said, “When we take Jesus’ yoke upon us, this admits us eventually to what Paul called the ‘fellowship of [Christ’s] sufferings.’ (Philippians 3:10) Whether illness or aloneness, injustice or rejection . . . our comparatively small-scale sufferings, if we are meek, will sink into the very marrow of the soul. We then better appreciate not only Jesus’ sufferings for us but also His matchless character, moving us to greater adoration and even emulation.” (Neal A. Maxwell, “‘From Whom All Blessings Flow,’” Ensign, May 1997, 11)

If we are to respond to tribulation by either growing out of it or growing strong enough to bear it more easily, we must trust in the Driver of the harrow. We are greatly tempted to doubt in times of immense pain. We doubt ourselves and our righteousness. We doubt that our God and our Savior are really paying much attention to us. Some wonder if there is a God and others feel that He has turned His back to them.

These are the times of chastening, of tutelage, of testing, of preparation of our souls for a future harvest.

David P. Vandagriff

I Need Thee Every Hour – Applying the Atonement in Everyday Life