The doctrine of the Atonement of Jesus Christ constitutes one of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints’ most fundamental theological claims. Millions every Sunday stand at the pulpit in church and for several minutes share words and tears regarding their personal experiences with the Atonement of Christ, and millions more every year flood social media on Easter and Christmas with similar messages. Our conception of the Atonement of Jesus Christ guides couples in how they treat one another and parents in how they raise their children; bishops in how they lead and assist their congregations; the dating patterns and decisions of single men and women; the fragile processes by which children and adolescents construct their sense of identity and self-worth; and the way in which we present our truth claims to the global community. In short, the Atonement of Jesus Christ is one of the most formative and affective doctrines of our faith.
As a person who was born and raised in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I have come to understand that God has “no variableness[,] neither shadow of changing.” And as a history student, I understand that cultural and personal perceptions change with time and circumstance. This means that even though the Atonement of Jesus Christ has not changed, over time our conception of it has certainly experienced seminal shifts. For example, in a 2001 BYU–Provo devotional, David A. Bednar (then president of BYU–Idaho) taught that Christ’s Atonement is designed not only for those transitioning from bad to good, but also from good to better—thus championing the scriptural admonition to “putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint.” And in 2017, President Russell M. Nelson gently but firmly asked members in General Conference to cease using “shortcut phrases” such as “the Atonement,” noting that such a formulation was “doctrinally incomplete.” He further explained: “These expressions present a real risk of misdirecting faith by treating the event as if it had living existence and capabilities independent of our Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ.” Put simply, the Atonement is Jesus.
Based on these and other observations I have made, I believe that over the past two centuries, the Atonement of Jesus Christ has taken on a much more personal, intimate character in the lives of LDS members; that it is more frequently expressed in terms of its infinite vastness, reach, and scope; and that it is usually accompanied with a fervent desire to identify its localized, internal placement within a person’s life. And perhaps most important for this article, Christ’s Atonement has slowly been reconceptualized from an incomprehensible, distant moral force to the tangible embodiment of a living God from whom individuals draw power and healing. In this way, Christ’s Atonement is not merely a formulaic solution for broken rules in need of repair, but the conduit by which a complex, multifaceted process of purifying and sanctifying souls takes place through the guidance of a spiritually cerebral Being.
In light of this, I now hope to present what I believe should be another shift regarding how we use, teach, and feel about the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Namely, that as we embrace our shared crippled state, differentiate between physical and spiritual healing, and accept the absolute nature of forgiveness, we will be enabled to emulate Christ in one of the most sacred of acts: atonement. As we do so, the chains of guilt, unrealistic expectations, and corrosive comparison will fall from our shoulders and we will be able to more fully “behold the marvelous light of God.”
Our Shared Crippled State
Within the global Christian community, there is one truth that is almost universally agreed upon: all of humankind lives in a fallen state. This, of course, was the result of the fall of Adam and Eve. Nevertheless, given the relative stability of our modern world (politics aside, from a historical perspective the peoples of the globe today enjoy the best physical health and monetary prosperity) it’s hard to visualize this in a daily context. As a reminder, then, we have the words of Elder Holland regarding the Fall: “What a plight! The entire human race in free fall—every man, woman, and child in it physically tumbling toward permanent death, spiritually plunging toward eternal anguish. . . Are we all just hanging in a cold canyon somewhere in an indifferent universe, each of us searching for a toehold, each of us seeking for something to grip—with nothing but the feeling of sand sliding under our fingers, nothing to save us, nothing to hold on to, much less anything to hold on to us?”
The reassuring answer, of course, is that we are not! Through Christ’s miraculous Atonement, we are effectively saved from such a miserable state of existence. But in our joy to celebrate this grand act of divine intervention, we are quick to forget that without Christ, that is precisely the position we would all be in. Our fallen state, when left unattended, would otherwise utterly consume us and destroy any sense of goodness we may naturally possess. Thus Jacob proclaims that without Christ, “our spirits must have become alike unto [the devil], and we become devils, angels to a devil, to be shut out from the presence of our God, and to remain with the father of lies, in misery, like unto himself.” From this we can glean two vital points: first, that we are all equally fallen, and second, that we are entirely incapable of redeeming ourselves from our own fallen state.
In the first step of the LDS Addiction Recovery manual, one can find the following statement:
When we honestly looked at the past, we admitted that nothing we had tried on our own had worked. We acknowledged that the addiction had only gotten worse. We realized how much our addictions had damaged relationships and robbed us of any sense of worth. At this point, we took the first step toward freedom and recovery by finding courage to admit that we were not just dealing with a problem or a bad habit. We finally admitted the truth that our lives had become unmanageable and that we needed help to overcome our addictions. The amazing thing about this honest realization of defeat was that recovery finally began.
In the Christian community and particularly in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, sin is frequently categorized in terms of severity, with adultery, for example, understood as significantly weightier than something like being rude to a neighbor. Members instinctively know which sins are trivial, moderate, serious, or else cause for real panic. This is not necessarily bad, as it is useful when deciding what an appropriate response should be to a certain behavior and how we negotiate levels of trust. But the true danger comes when we falsely equate differing levels of sin with differing levels of reliance upon Christ’s Atonement. Whereas the person recovering from an addiction is desperately implored to entirely abandon their own dysfunctional faculties and admit they have been defeated by their fallen nature, such messages are rarely if ever directed toward “normal” members. Instead, many peddle along with quaint goals of not raising their voice or making sure they take out the trash before their spouse gets home. Ironically, then, it is possible to create an environment in which those who are perceived as being the “chief” of sinners are, in fact, those very individuals who are most authentically and frequently engaging with Christ’s Atonement.
That is not to say Christ’s Atonement doesn’t apply to “little” things, but rather that we frequently miscalculate what “little” actually is. As Elder Larry R. Lawrence succinctly put it, “sin is addictive.” In this sense, we are all in the place of the person reading from the manual. There are those things in the lives of each of us which have the capacity to derail us from the gospel of Jesus Christ and thereby render us unable to live with God again. From this perspective, the parable of the talents takes on new meaning; namely, that the degree or amount of something is relative to an individual. The master treated each of his servants equally, regardless of their comparative value. Rather, it was the intentions and authenticity of the person that determined either their progression or regression. Whether ten, five, or one, sin in any dosage is fatal. Therefore it is far better for us to assess deviant behavior not on a linear spectrum but through the multidimensional manifestations of a person’s true inner desires. (And the more we understand this latter point, the less likely we are to make judgments based on superficial categories).
Indeed, it is pointless to scoff at others when we ourselves are incapable of achieving salvation on our own. As stated by Elder Bednar, “All of our worthy desires and good works, as necessary as they are, can never produce clean hands and a pure heart. It is the Atonement of Jesus Christ that provides both a cleansing and redeeming power that helps us to overcome sin and a sanctifying and strengthening power that helps us to become better than we ever could by relying only upon our own strength.” While it is never necessary to sin in order to draw closer to Christ, it is ironic that individuals who have never broken big commandments may fail to recognize the incredible danger they are in when they consider their relationship with Christ as something of a personal trainer; Jesus informs you of the best routine, but it’s you that’s lifting the weights. Contrast this, then, with Elder Paul V. Johnson’s statement: “We should not assume we need to do what only the Savior can do in the miraculous process of our perfection.”
With all this talk of redemptive equality, it’s possible that you now might be asking yourself: does this mean I can go ahead and sin in any way that I want, and after repenting everything is completely fixed? The answer is: no, but also yes, and emphatically so. To understand this, we must get to the crux of two interrelated questions: 1.) Does the Atonement of Jesus Christ heal everyone equally, and 2.) Is the timing of healing the same for everyone? Herein we find the answers when we correctly understand the differences between physical and spiritual healing.
Physical Healing: The Mortal Condition
A paramount consequence of the Fall was the transition of the world from an immortal to a mortal state. The presence or potential of disease, injury, and the myriad “thorns . . . and thistles” brought about by this process sharply define our daily existence. But what does this mean for repentance? A seemingly obscure but significant passage in the Book of Mormon provides clarity; after the miraculous visitation of Christ to the American continent and his subsequent ascension into heaven, the people were left with the gargantuan task of rebuilding their recently decimated society. With undoubtedly careful planning and great effort they were successful in rebuilding many cities, including the once great Zarahemla. Then comes the following observation: “But there were many cities which had been sunk, and waters came up in the stead thereof; therefore these cities could not be renewed.” These people, now converted unto the Lord and recently given the power to heal the sick, give sight to the blind, and make the deaf to hear, were nevertheless unable to retrieve certain cities that had been totally ravaged by physical forces. Thus, even those granted extraordinary spiritual power were limited by the immutable reality of certain physical forces.
We all know individuals who have made poor choices that have impacted their physical bodies. Drug use has been linked with altered brain chemistry; eating disorders inhibit or damage regular bodily functions; and pornography locks away potent images that can be unexpectedly recalled against the wishes of the individual. It is vital to clarify that in very few of these cases were such choices made with malice, but they nevertheless have a distinct and possibly permanent effect on the engaged person. Moreover, these and other choices usually have real but often invisible accompanying mental, emotional, and psychological repercussions. Elsewhere, vicious strains of racism, sexism, classism, ageism, and a host of other ‘isms’ restrict many from access to opportunities and safe communities. In many instances these also lead to systemic and intersectional consequences, insomuch that future generations and those across cultures and ethnicities are negatively affected even without having made direct choices themselves. In the face of all this, it is sometimes difficult to express or feel hope in Christ’s Atonement; when the damage has penetrated so deeply into individuals, families, societies, nations, and the global superstructure, can we really claim that restoration is possible?
Healing, perfect healing, is absolutely possible and scripturally promised. However, there are many cases in which one must endure faithfully until the Resurrection in order to obtain that gift. Such may be the case with pernicious ideologies, in which we must stand fast and value progress while also recognizing our “divine discontent” with the state of things. Likewise the smoker whose lungs have been nearly destroyed, or the spouse whose infidelity has shattered their family can only rarely re-piece together the physical fragments of their choices. In these situations we must learn to do as Elder Holland has suggested: “The past is to be learned from but not lived in. We look back to claim the embers from glowing experiences but not the ashes.” In the context of mortality, it is both our privilege and our pain to fully experience and work through the consequences of our actions. We are therefore enabled to move forward in life knowing that Christ’s Atonement will equally heal all of us of our mortal condition, while simultaneously remaining cautious in the present knowing that certain actions can produce chronic physical consequences.
When a person understands the inevitable nature of consequences in tandem with the redemptive power of Christ’s Atonement, they realize that it is generally not their role to punish another person for their choices. Indeed, we are not honoring Christ’s Atonement when we artificially inflict pain upon another person for the choices they have made. The prophet Mormon solemnly proclaimed that “the judgments of God will overtake the wicked; and it is by the wicked that the wicked are punished.” American writer and philosopher Elbert Hubbard proposed that “we are punished by our sins and not for them,” and likewise the biblical scholars Carl Friedrich Keil and Franz Delitzsch noted that “sin from its very nature bears its own punishment.” Thus the inherent qualities of sin make it so that inequality will always follow in its path. And lest we think this only applies to bad choices, we can also have confidence in the unavoidable positive outcome of good choices. As the popular LDS hymn reads, “Do what is right; let the consequence follow.” In this way, faith becomes crucial when it appears that our or others' choices are not currently producing the results we think they should. But when a disciple of Jesus Christ honestly believes that “wickedness never was happiness,” there is a distinct letting go of fear and the unnecessary burden of having to personally ensure that those making incorrect choices feel bad about themselves. This leaves more mental and spiritual space to instead celebrate and share the redeeming power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ with others, which will almost always be more effective in inviting and encouraging others to change.
None of this is to say, of course, that Latter-day Saints should not stand up for and proclaim truth. The scriptures have repeatedly asserted the importance of courageous honesty, law and order, and the practice of judicial process. Similarly, even as we seek to not judge others for their choices, we must be careful about who we extend our trust to, particularly in cases where someone has personally hurt us. But notwithstanding criminal charges and deep wounds, beating one another senselessly for sins that will already bring sorrow and guilt will rarely produce sincere change and healing. As with our sins, Christ in His Atonement took upon Himself the heavy responsibility of judgment, and therefore proclaims “I, the Lord, will forgive whom I will forgive, but of you it is required to forgive all men.” In short, those repenting must understand that not all physical healing will be obtained in this life; and those proclaiming repentance should recognize that the consequences of sin, not their reaction, should constitute the punishment. We are not doing anyone a favor by withholding an invitation to Christmas dinner because of the choices a person has made.
Spiritual Healing: The Absolute Nature of Forgiveness
The mortal condition makes it clear that some or many of the physical consequences of our sins will remain with us until the Resurrection. But does this same logic apply to spiritual consequences? From the scriptures and the teachings of church leaders we learn that, apart from incredibly rare circumstances, we can obtain full and complete spiritual healing in this life.
Miraculously, there is no need to wait. The immediacy of spiritual healing is, for example, acclaimed by Elder Holland: “You can change anything you want to change, and you can do it very fast. That’s another satanic suckerpunch—that it takes years and years and eons of eternity to repent. It takes exactly as long to repent as it takes you to say, ‘I’ll change’—and mean it.” In another instance, a Joseph Smith translation of Psalm 30 reveals this same principle: “For his anger kindleth against the wicked; they repent, and in a moment it is turned away, and they are in his favor, and he giveth them life; therefore, weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.”
Building off of this, it becomes clear that as the literal embodiment of the Atonement, Jesus is both personally invested and involved in the spiritual redemption of an individual and is eager to extend immediate hope and relief. This is captured by Elder Jörg Klebingat, who stated that “no matter what your current status, the very moment you voluntarily choose honest, joyful, daily repentance by striving to simply do and be your very best, the Savior’s Atonement envelops and follows you, as it were, wherever you go.” And these are not simply feel-good statements of general encouragement, but speak to a higher and holier theological truth. As explained by President Packer in regard to total spiritual healing: “Restoring what you cannot restore, healing the wound you cannot heal, fixing that which you broke and you cannot fix is the very purpose of the atonement of Christ. When your desire is firm and you are willing to pay the ‘uttermost farthing,’ the law of restitution is suspended. Your obligation is transferred to the Lord. He will settle your accounts.”
This process of spiritual healing is also different from its physical counterpart, in that it has the capacity to extend to both the past and future concurrently with the present moment.
Elder Gerrit W. Gong eloquently expressed, “Because ‘God himself atoneth for the sins of the world,’ the Lord’s Atonement can make whole not only what was but also what can be.” Miraculously, then, the events of the past cannot be changed but they can be transformed. Thus, Tad R. Callister asserted that Christ’s Atonement “has the power to transform all that is ugly and vicious and worthless in life to something of supreme and glorious splendor. He has the power to convert the ashes of mortality to the beauties of eternity.” The future is no less exempt from these promises. As put by Elder Holland, “There is nothing . . . that you have done that cannot be undone. There is no problem which you cannot overcome. There is no dream that in the unfolding of time and eternity cannot yet be realized.” We would do well to remember that in the parable of the laborers in the vineyard, the master paid his servants equally, regardless of how long they had participated.
It would be worth stopping at this point to ask: Is this unfair? Does the Atonement of Jesus Christ lose its special power, and our own repentance its significance, if the latecomers get to join the ever-faithful with full benefits? To both I would say no, and we should probably thank God in prayer regularly that this is the case. To the former we must again remind ourselves of our shared crippled state; we are all entirely lost without Christ, no matter how good we have been in this life. As for the latter question, we can look back to the parable of the prodigal son and the vehement reaction of his brother who, upon seeing his sibling’s hailed return, felt neglected and cheated. Of this Elder Holland observed: “He has yet to come to the compassion and mercy, the charitable breadth of vision to see that this is not a rival returning. It is his brother. As his father pled with him to see, it is one who was dead and now is alive. It is one who was lost and now is found.”
Our Capacity to Atone
At last we come to the final implication of this refreshed understanding of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Not only can Christ heal an individual physically and spiritually with absolute perfection (while respecting differences in timing and agency), but in this sacred and special process you and I have been given a part to play. For although repentance is ultimately a process between the offender and God, we in some sense hold the extraordinary power of determining whether a person feels comfortable ascending to or descending from their spiritual potential. It is significant, for example, that the prodigal son proclaims to his father in lowly penance that “[I] am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants.” This false hierarchy of sin can lead us to believe that we are better (or worse) than someone else or that those who have sinned deserve to be marginalized. If we are mired in the throes of comparison, it is difficult to move past this type of behavior.
Repentance can be particularly difficult because one must be particularly vulnerable, and therefore the way in which we treat others during that interval will have a powerful impact on their ability to progress. As our perfect example, Jesus Christ has shown us in word and deed how this is to be done. Elder Dale G. Renlund has noted: “[Jesus] did not disdainfully walk the dusty roads of Galilee and Judea, flinching at the sight of sinners. He did not dodge them in abject horror. No, He ate with them. He helped and blessed, lifted and edified, and replaced fear and despair with hope and joy…As the Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ views disease in His sheep as a condition that needs treatment, care, and compassion.” While it is certainly true that every person possesses the ability to choose for themselves and that “God will force no man to heaven,” when a person is flailing spiritually it would be wise to ask ourselves whether our behavior, attitudes, or disposition may have a hand in their struggle.
But our role in this process goes beyond just external behavior. As with our baptismal covenant, the promise of being “willing to bear one another’s burdens” has the potential to unfurl a sacramental moment in the lives of those involved. As described by President Packer: “In one sense we ourselves may participate in an atonement. When we are willing to restore to others that which we have not taken, or heal wounds that we did not inflict, or pay a debt that we did not incur, we are emulating His part in the Atonement.” Though our actions ultimately do not carry the healing, restorative, and redeeming power of Christ’s Atonement, as mortal beings our physical touch and sense of earthly presence are uniquely tangible and will not go unnoticed by those we embrace. And as we participate in this process, we also experience divine change. Speaking of an account in the Old Testament, Kristin M. Yee observed: “Just as Abigail was willing to take Nabal’s sin upon herself, so did the Savior—in an incomprehensible way—take upon Him our sins and the sins of those who have hurt or offended us. . . . To give what you have been denied is a powerful part of divine healing possible through faith in Jesus Christ.”
Though not his literal flesh and blood, the emblems of the sacrament carry enormous weight simply because of what they represent and the meaning we personally infuse them with. Likewise, our emblematic atonement for and on behalf of one another helps to fulfill the scriptural admonition that we become “saviours . . . on mount Zion.” Inversely, because repentance is an inherently relational process we also, in some sense, have the power to deny another person the joyful fruit that should come with repentance. Perhaps this is why Christ proclaimed that when it comes to refusing forgiveness and compassion to another person, “there remaineth in him the greater sin.” We are not responsible for the choices of another person, but how we interpret the context and motivation in which those choices were pursued can drastically alter our perceptions and behavior toward them. And as with Christ, who is there to assist us “before, during and after the time when we expend our own efforts,” we should not make the mistake of passively watching another person struggle to be loved and belong and embrace them only once their choices align with our own religious preferences.
Conclusion
So, what is the next shift in our understanding and application of the Atonement of Jesus Christ? I contend that we must accept that we are all equally fallen, and thereby equally dependent upon the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Our ability or inability to reconcile this with the way we categorize each other, and whether we choose to extend or withhold forgiveness, largely comprise the fundamental expressions of our personal conviction of Christ’s Atonement. The most noble manifestation of faith in the Atonement of Jesus Christ requires a level of unselfish love that completely abandons a desire for hierarchy and instead embraces the absolute healing that is openly espoused by Christ.Thus Christ proclaimed unflinchingly, “Verily I say unto you, that the publicans and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you.”
I submit that until one can reconcile that declaration with their own spiritual sensibilities, they do not yet fully grasp the radical forgiveness offered by the Savior Jesus Christ. So the next time you find yourself raising an eyebrow when you see a member that has tattoos be appointed to a prominent church calling, or you discover that a family member or partner has a past (or current) history with an immoral substance, consider whether or not your reaction is rooted in faith or fear. With time and practice, we can learn to overcome the human desire for black-and-white verdicts and instead accept the surprising fluidity and flexibility that characterizes divine love.