A Beautiful Dichotomy of Truth and Error

By Greg Christiansen

The year before I moved my family to a small Montana town high in the Rocky Mountains, they formed a branch of the Church there. When the branch was formed, the local pastor began occupying a portion of his Sunday services with warning the people about the Mormons. Eventually, a few members of his congregation spoke up, telling him that he should get to know the Mormons in town, because they were good people. That ended his sermons on the subject.

I have lived most of my life in places where there were relatively few members of the Church, but there was something different about becoming a school teacher in a small town. Suddenly, I was completely integrated into a non-Latter-day Saint community. I loved most of the people of that town, and many of them began to feel like family. Throughout my life, I have been prone to keep to myself, being somewhat of an introvert and a quiet and ponderous sort of person, and not being the sort of person who is prone to go out and get involved in social engagements and the like, yet that small town was different for me. Before I knew it, I was coaching basketball teams, I was running a local television station, I was doing play by play announcing over the loudspeaker at the high school football games, I was singing in the community choir, and I was even filming weddings and other events.

Still, though I felt no inhibitions against being involved in all sorts of community things during those years, there is always something different when you throw in the word religion. One December soon after we moved there, a friend of my wife’s invited us to watch her kids perform in a Christmas play at the local Bible church during their regular services. We attended, but I remember feeling very guarded, and worried that the other people there were going to see our attendance as some sort of endorsement, or a departure from our own religion. We did not linger long after the meeting, but left promptly to minimize our total time there.

Though we hastily fled that pastor’s church (the same one who had given the anti-mormon sermons), over the years that pastor became one of my favorite people in town. We spent hours conversing together on long bus rides with the junior high football team. He was there to coach, and I was there to film. We spent our Friday nights during the high school football season up in the booth together, chatting away before and after games and during timeouts. He was there to run the scoreboard, and I was there to do the announcing and to supervise the film crew. The last video project I was working on before we moved from there to a new home was a documentary on this pastor and his wife. I have a fond memory of sitting with him in a cafe to discuss what he was looking for in the project. I spent hours interviewing him, and went to visit the remote little cabin where he and his wife lived.

Ultimately, if I had to pick the people I wanted to be in heaven with, he would be near the top of my list. He was a good, kind, and thoughtful man. I could always tell that he had a love for the Savior, and was sincerely seeking to help people come to Christ. He was doing a good work in that community. Yet in hindsight, I can tell that there was something in me that was promoting an all or nothing approach to salvation. I had rightfully been brought up to believe that I was supposed to be a missionary for the Gospel, but at the same time I often felt that if someone did not accept the restored Gospel as it was packaged then my missionary efforts had failed. I had been given the perspective that everyone had something to learn from me when it came to Christ and truth, and that I really had nothing to learn from anyone of another religion. I had that kind of perspective ingrained into me from a very young age, and still had it as an adult interacting with my pastor friend.

One of the points this pastor and I debated was grace versus works. He shared a video where an evangelist was interviewing a Latter-day Saint youth. After the interview, the evangelist in the video pointed out how Mormons talk about heaven like it is something that can be earned. He then made an argument about how we are saved by grace and not by works. After watching this video, the pastor and I went back and forth in discussing grace versus works. I suppose we came to an impasse, and we did so very cordially. Still, in hindsight I realize that I was never really open to the possibility that I had something to learn from him. Though I still believe there were flaws in his reasoning on works, there was much I might have learned about grace from him that I had not really thought about. I first came to that realization when Elder Uchtdorf spoke on grace in conference, and made statements that I had never heard over the pulpit before. Indeed, Elder Uchtdorf’s talk reminded me so much of my pastor friend that it made me wonder if I would have been as open to the truths in Elder Uchtdorf’s talk if it had been delivered by someone else, or would I have just shut the door of my mind and heart against the message.

I have come to realize that this is a chronic and pervasive problem among people of all religions. We often give carte blanche to things taught within the borders of our own religion, even if they are sometimes not quite right, and yet we are close minded to every idea that has the brand of another religion on it.

Recently, I was gathered with a small group of Latter-day Saints at someone’s home, and among our company was a man who had been raised in the Church but had spent most of his life in riotous living. The years had not been kind to him. He looked about fifteen years older than he really was. He had a nose that had been broken and would never be straight again, and a big toe that suffered the same misfortune. For many years, I had given up hope that this man would ever change, because he was perpetually in and out of jail and could never keep a straight course for more than a month or so. Yet it seemed that a few years had crept by since his last time in jail, and that he was on a long streak of holding down a job and keeping a roof over his head.

While in this gathering, I was surprised to hear this brother express such tender feelings about the Savior as to bring tears to his eyes and a quiver to his voice. He commented on America’s problems being the result of its departure from God, and he showed us some religious literature that he found meaningful in that regard. I thought it was such a marvelous thing to see him so heartfelt and tender about Christ. He seemed to be somewhere on a path of conversion, just as we all are on a path toward or away from the Lord. Yet I noticed a lack of enthusiasm by those gathered around. It seemed that we did not know how to react, because this prodigal son was not referring to the Church or the Prophet, but was instead citing material from a non Latter-day Saint source. Even so, every word that he said was something that I agreed with, and I realized that it was tragic when we are overly hesitant to acknowledge truth just because it is not coming from a source we know and trust.

I have noticed that I have a friend who is not at all that way. She comes from an Indian heritage, and spends a lot of time trying to develop her spirituality through meditation. At the same time, though she reveres her hindu gods, she is very open about ideas found in the Latter-day Saint Church and doesn’t seem to see a conflict between embracing a talk by President Nelson in the same way she would embrace a hindu text. She recently changed jobs in her workplace, and I was surprised when she asked me to dedicate her new office, though she did not use the word dedicate. The two people who had been in that office before were less than agreeable, to the point that no one ever wanted to go in there after they left. The place just had a bad feeling to it.

So she, I, and another Latter-day Saint colleague went into that room, and I used the priesthood to dedicate the space in the same way that you might dedicate a home. And because she was hindu, I included the word karma in the ordinance, because I have come to recognize that as Latter-day Saints we also believe somewhat in the idea of karma, though we don’t have a name for it in our culture. As Alma said, “For that which ye do send out shall return unto you again, and be restored” (Alma 41:15). Or as it says in Ecclesiastes, “Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days” (Ecclesiastes 11:1). Or as in Proverbs, “He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord; and that which he hath given will he pay him again” (Proverbs 19:17). Anyway, the experience of dedicating this room was a good one, and it was special to share such a heartfelt religious moment with someone of another faith.

I have decided that I want to be more like this small hindu woman, who is happy to embrace truth regardless of its source. She discerns the good by how it feels. She practices what Alma preached, judging the seed by what it does when it is planted. A good seed will “enlarge my soul.” It will “enlighten my understanding. It will “be delicious to me” (Alma 32:28).

Yet sometimes perhaps rather than judging the seed by its own merits, we are looking to see if the seed has a brand name on it, like we might do if we were shopping for cookies and wanted to be sure that we were buying the real deal Oreos and not some cheap knock-off brand. We forget that truth can come from unexpected places. A wild man crying in the desert. A lamanite upon a wall. The mouth of a donkey (Numbers 22:28). The mouths of babes (Psalm 8:2). The mouth of a prisoner (Acts 25:14). A voice in the middle of the night (1 Samuel 3). We are kind of like Nathanael, when he hears of Jesus, and says, “Can there any good thing come out of Nazareth?” (John 1:46). Well, apparently the very best thing could come out of Nazareth.

At the same time, it seems plain to me that the world is full of deception, and none of us are immune to it. We also live in the day of the University of Youtube, where information can often be presented conveniently and quickly to large audiences in ways that are very convincing, and yet which lack context and are not a comprehensive look at a topic. With the power of Google, it is now easy to borrow bits and pieces from here and there, and assemble them into a message that looks convincing, and yet which ignores the true and intended meanings which can only be found by a closer examination of the source as well as comparing them to other things said by the same historical figures or by other witnesses of those things. The power of video and sound editing platforms today also has created a new phenomena referred to as “deepfake,” where it can be made to appear that someone is someone else, both in how they look and how they sound. Watch this popular video, for example, where Bill Hader transforms into Tom Cruise right before your eyes (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VWrhRBb-1Ig&feature=emb_logo).

We live in an interesting world, where there is a beautiful dichotomy in that we have greater access to information, including primary historical sources, than perhaps humanity has ever collectively had before, while also being subject to greater powers of deception than may have ever existed in the past six thousand years. With this in mind, I find great wisdom in these words from Elder Holland. “In moments of fear or doubt or troubling times, hold the ground you have already won, even if that ground is limited. . . . When those moments come and issues surface, the resolution of which is not immediately forthcoming, hold fast to what you already know and stand strong until additional knowl-edge comes” (Jeffrey R. Holland, “Lord, I Believe,” Ensignor Liahona, May 2013, 93–94). 

God moves in mysterious ways, and we are often left to wonder how things will play out on this earthly scene. It stands to reason that God will also show up in our own lives in ways that we do not expect, and it is certainly a virtue to acknowledge goodness and truth no matter where you find it. Perhaps one day we will find ourselves upon a journey that we do not understand, having been guided there by the Spirit. But the day of understanding will one day come. As the Lord said to His apostles as He washed their feet, “What I do thou knowest not now; but thou shalt know hereafter” (John 13:7).

At the same time, never forget those things which form the bedrock of your beliefs. Mainly, the role of Jesus Christ in your salvation and the laws given to us by Him, especially that we should love one another, our friends and enemies alike. Indeed, in this Christmas season, may our bowels be filled with some small measure of that great mercy bestowed upon us by our Creator. May we leave judgment to Him to whom it belongs, and instead find ways to serve, comfort, and warn. There is never a better time to learn how to love than while you are living in a world that so often fumes with anger and hatred, and perhaps there is never a better time to learn truth than while living in a world that campaigns a great many lies.

Perhaps that is one more thing we can learn from the Garden of Eden story. While it is important to discern false messengers from true ones, it is also important to discern the truthfulness of the message. Indeed, it was a false messenger, the serpent, who introduced some key questions into Eve’s mind. What role did the Tree of Knowledge play in her progression? How could she become more like her Father and Mother in heaven? Surely, the deceptive messages that this world preaches to us give us an opportunity to look up to heaven for answers, and in their own way help the plan to move forward. For Adam and Eve, falling downward into the lone and dreary world may have seemed like they were going in the wrong direction, yet they came to understand the necessity of it. We are then left to wonder, when Eve ate the fruit was she obeying the serpent, or was she being obedient to the voice of the Spirit? 

That is the key question we each must ask ourselves every day. Who are we choosing to obey? In the case of Eve and the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, it is quite possible that both sources would have given her the same answer for different reasons. Surely, the righteousness or unrighteousness of her choice had everything to do with what was in her heart. If she sought to obey the voice of the Spirit and do well, then her choice was innocent of any wickedness, even if it would bring certain consequences.

It’s like two men who run into a burning building. One runs into the building because his friends challenge his courage, daring him to do it. The other man runs into the building because he seeks to rescue a small child who is somewhere inside. On the surface, both acts look foolish, and both acts will bring certain negative consequences including the risk of death or other permanent harm. Yet the righteousness or foolishness of each man has less to do with what he is doing, and more to do with why he is doing it and what he is seeking to accomplish. One acts out of vanity and ego, while the other acts out of selflessness and love. At the same time, the man who seeks to rescue the small child has the potential for great joy, if he is successful, and would risk the pain of terrible regret if he were to decide not to take the risk. The other man had nothing to risk or gain but his own sense of pride, which is a cheap and shallow thing.

At the end of the day, we should each be constantly asking which voice it is that we are obeying, and what things are motivating us to do what we do. As Mormon taught, “For every man receiveth ​​​wages​ of him whom he listeth to ​​​obey” (Alma 3:27). And if we do wrong while seeking to do right, then we can surely extend our greatest reverence and gratitude to the infinite mercy and grace of Jesus Christ, who intimately knows the workings of our hearts. And if we do right while seeking to do wrong, all those around us can be grateful for such a fortunate accident, but as for us, the Day of Judgment may be distasteful medicine we will have to swallow.