Have We Placed Our Hopes in the Arm of Flesh?

By Eric Smith and Greg Christiansen

“But behold, according to the scriptures, this stone shall become the great, and the last, and the only sure foundation, upon which the Jews can build.” – Jacob 4:16

What a miraculous thing it must have been for the Israelites to hear the voice of the Lord from the midst of their “assembly in the mount, out of the midst of a fire… with a great voice” (Deuteronomy 5:22). Assemblies in our day are the General Conferences of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, held every six months. Imagine watching General Conference and seeing immediately behind the pulpit, a swirling fire, with the prophet and apostles to the side of it, and through that pillar of fire we heard the unmistakable voice of the Lord. It seems that there would be no mistaking the Lord’s will, mind, and voice in such a gathering.

And yet, the Israelites would not have it. What followed became a hinge point in their history when the literal presence of the Lord was removed and intercessors on the Lord’s behalf would become the accepted manner of communication with the Lord. The Israelites’ words and will are printed in our scriptures as a reminder of their rejection of the literal presence of the Lord:

Behold, the Lord our God hath shewed us his glory and his greatness, and we have heard his voice out of the midst of the fire: we have seen this day that God doth talk with man, and he liveth. Now therefore why should we die? for this great fire will consume us: if we hear the voice of the Lord our God any more, then we shall die. For who is there of all flesh, that hath heard the voice of the living God speaking out of the midst of the fire, as we have, and lived? Go thou near, and hear all that the Lord our God shall say: and speak thou unto us all that the Lord our God shall speak unto thee; and we will hear it, and do it (Deuteronomy 5:24-27).

The Israelites made their fear of the Lord and preference to be ruled by flesh clear. From that time forward, the Lord would have to use mortal men as a mouthpiece when speaking to Israel, until the day that He would come to them in the flesh. It should perhaps not be surprising that centuries later the descendants of those who refused to hear Him speak out of the midst of the fire would largely refuse to hear Him when He spoke with a mortal mouth, having no authority they could recognize. They had made men their foundation, rather than developing a personal relationship with deity.

It may be hard to imagine a conscious desire to put anything or anyone in place of the Lord. It may be easy to consider our Israelite ancestors as foolish for doing so, and yet, it is possible that we are as guilty of doing so in our present day. Perhaps even more so. Consider the intermediate people and things that were always designed as training wheels to get us to interact with the Lord directly, and how those things have slowly become the end in and of themselves. Although the scriptures repeatedly and persistently counsel us to develop a personal relationship with God, we instead emphasize to our children a much less doctrinal principle of unquestioning reliance upon our appointed leaders.

The Intermediate Things We Cling To

Having a central mouthpiece for the Lord in a prophet is not wrong. After all, the Lord consented to the Israelites and gave them their wish in being led by Moses, saying: “I have heard the voice of the words of this people, which they have spoken unto thee: they have well said all that they have spoken. O that there were such an heart in them, that they would fear me, and keep all my commandments always, that it might be well with them, and with their children for ever!” (Deuteronomy 5:28-29) And yet, while the Lord consented to their desire, He made His preference to be their direct lawgiver clear. To borrow the metaphor again, the Lord wanted His people to ride a bicycle without training wheels but recognized their fear of riding without them. In a way, He acknowledged that they were children who needed something to lean on. Prophets then, while not a bad thing, were and are intended as an intermediate step to regaining our company with the Lord.

Yet over time, as the children learn to pedal the bike around with training wheels, confident that they are never in danger of falling because of them, they often grow into men and women who never understand that the training wheels were never meant to be permanently attached to their bicycle. They think they are part of the design, and have grown dependent on them. The training wheels provide stability, peace of mind, and assurance that nothing bad will happen. These men and women even grew up listening to children’s hymns emphasizing the necessity of the training wheels, and so never clearly understood the goal of riding a bicycle without them.

The problem is that the truly difficult trails of life are impossible to navigate on a bike with training wheels. There is a reason that bicycles were designed without them. Indeed, how many bishops have been frustrated by those members of their wards who come to them seeking answers to their problems, believing that the bishop has superior insight into their lives than they can receive themselves because of his calling? Similarly, how many members of the Church look at the traditions, culture, and leaders of the Church like a fence carefully erected around the truth, beyond which only apostates and blasphemers trespass? How many of us are offended by the wild prospect of a bicycle without training wheels? Are they not an essential part of the bicycle, put on there by God Himself?

Indeed, the Gospel is designed with all sorts of these kinds of temporary helps for our various stages in progression, which assist us in our journey to truth, understanding, and redemption. The role such helps have served in different dispensations is especially easy to recognize in hindsight.  For example, when we look back at the laws, ordinances, and inspired traditions of ancient Israel, we plainly see that all of those outward things were trying to teach the people something more important, and were intended to have an impact on their hearts and minds. They were not an end in and of themselves. They were always intended to serve as training wheels, and were designed to eventually come off.

The same is true with many things in our day. Consider the blessed experience of partaking of the sacrament. It is an emblem or token of a covenant; a physical reminder of a deeper and more significant blessing of the Savior’s atoning sacrifice. Does partaking of the sacrament make us clean? Of course not. But it was certainly designed as a symbol to help create the necessary emotions of remorse for sin, and gratitude for the sacrifice the Savior made on our behalf. In short, it is an intermediate tool designed to bring us in contact with deity, where redemption from sin can be found.

Similarly, in fast and testimony meetings and other addresses given from the pulpits of the Church, we are continually reminded of the sacred nature of the temple. Hymns have been written emphasizing their importance. We are continually told how they should be a major focus in our lives, and rightfully so; they are dedicated to be holy and sacred places, which enable the children of God to receive ordinances of salvation. Yet in all of the push to get people to the temple, is it possible that the temple has in some ways become the end in and of itself? Have we forgotten that it was meant to be a representation of ascending to a higher plane, where we might be enabled to stand in the actual presence of God, like the mount where ancient Israel once stood in the midst of Jehovah? 

Temple rites and ordinances like the sacrament are beautiful representations of blessings and promises to the faithful, each designed to lead us into the Lord’s presence once again, yet they are just the scaffolding of the real work of creation that God is doing. The Lord is ultimately not in the business of building temples of stone, decorated in gold and fine things, but such places are a means to an end. Instead, the Lord has made His business clear. He has said, “This is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man” (Moses 1:39). Or as typified in the narrative of the Creation, “I, God, created man in mine own image, in the image of mine Only Begotten created I him; male and female created I them” (Moses 2:27).

Here is defined the object of the work of creation, to create men and women in the image of the Gods. Would it startle you If we were to say that this creative work is not yet finished? That the seven days of this earth’s history is also a work of creation, which is typified by the Creation narrative? You are in the process of being created, and as that process goes on it is important to distinguish the tools and instruments of creation from the actual creation itself. The temple is a mountain, intended to give us personal access to the God above us. The sacrament is a whispered reminder, giving us an opportunity to turn our hearts and minds back to the Lord. Yet if they do not serve to accomplish these things, then they are empty and vain. They are a corpse, and not a living body. Perhaps this is what Nephi meant when he spoke of the deadness of the law, which was made alive in Christ (2nd Nephi 25:27).

There are many other emblems, tokens, and outward performances that similarly serve as helps, intended to assist us in drawing closer to God. The temple garment. Chapels. Church manuals. Church programs. The Church itself. Even the scriptures and the words of the prophets. Yet all of these things are like scaffolding around a building, and eventually the day will come when the time has arrived for the work to be finished, when the scaffolding must be removed. Then we will be left to look at what lies beneath all of the scaffolding and external supports, in hopes to find a man or a woman solidly built on the foundation of Jesus Christ, having His image in their countenances.

Paul taught this concept in this manner. “Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing” (1Corinthians 13:1-3). In other words, every righteous thing or work that does not change us into the image of God has essentially served no purpose in us.

Hold to the Rod of Iron, and Beware of Counterfeits

Now these words are not meant to discount the many tools with which God has provided us. To the contrary, it should help us to understand that there is a divine purpose in these tools. Think of the divine purpose of the iron rod, in Lehi’s vision of the Tree of Life. All of the many things God has given us can be likened unto that rod of iron, as they serve to guide us along the path. Yet the iron rod is not a destination. It is a guide. It is a tool to help us find the way in the darkness. At the same time, if these tools do not connect us directly with the Lord Himself, through the conduit of the Holy Ghost, we will never truly know if we are holding onto the rod itself, or onto one of its many counterfeits.

In other words, is there someone standing between you and the Lord? Do you rely upon an intermediary between you and God to guide you along the path of righteousness? Is your trust placed in the arm of the flesh? If so, then it is time for a change, for as President Nelson has plainly stated, you will not be able to spiritually survive what is coming if that is the case. Let us instead echo the words of Moses, which he spoke in rebuke of the people who criticized the few who dared to commune directly with God. “Would God that all the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his spirit upon them!” (Numbers 11:29)

The prophet that stands at the head of your family should be you. It was never intended for a family to be led by anyone but the mother and the father. The prophet who stands at the head of your life should also be you, and no one else. This is what it means to have agency. You are accountable for you, and for yours, and it is not the design for you to surrender that responsibility to anyone else, even if they counsel you in the name of the Lord to ignore your own personal revelation because it does not conform with their understanding of truth.

Though the Lord may call a Prophet to stand at the head of the Church, the only one He called to stand at the head of your life and of your family is you. It is your privilege to be guided by Him directly in your personal and family affairs. While it is our righteous duty to sustain our leaders in their efforts to guide the affairs of the Church and of our stakes and wards, supporting them with love and with our labor, lending ear to their counsels, and being patient with their shortcomings, they are not and were never meant to be the foundation which we are to build upon. The only sure foundation is Jesus Christ.