Y’know, I had a difficult time this week deciding how to approach this subject. But in the end, I came to one realization: While there are million things to discuss in talking about the Book of Mormon, only one thing that really matters can happen when you read the Book of Mormon: You will draw closer to Christ.
In realizing that, I’ve decided to focus my talk on Christ; specifically, how I have come closer to Christ and what I’ve learned about Him while I’ve read, studied and pondered the Book of Mormon.
First, I have realized the great love and great compassion He has for me. I know in my darkest and loneliest hours, I have turned to the Book of Mormon for solace. And the solace that I have sought has come. I know that whenever I reached out for Christ, He has welcomed me. I have felt His love often—and it has meant so much to me. I know the Book of Mormon is Christ’s word because the Book of Mormon leads me to Him.
From its title page, the Book of Mormon declares this as its purpose: “The convincing of the Jew and Gentile that JESUS is the CHRIST, the ETERNAL GOD, manifesting himself unto all nations.” Having read the Book of Mormon, I can vouch that this is exactly what the Book of Mormon does. Every time I read the Book of Mormon, I am convinced that Jesus is the Christ, the Eternal God.
Its pages bear that strong testimony of Christ’s reality. This is the book’s central purpose. Nephi once wrote, “And we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins” (2 Nephi 25:26). I have no doubt that every prophet who wrote in the Book of Mormon after Nephi took seriously this charge. I believe they wrote so that we may come to know Christ through their experiences, rejoicings, preachings and prophecies. And they succeeded. If you read and ponder their writings, you will come to know Christ better. All my experience with the Book of Mormon tells me that that is so.
I want to spend the rest of my talk, discussing some scriptures found in the Book of Mormon that have really, really meant something to me and that have taught me about Christ—specifically, these scriptures have taught me about His love and His mercy, His preeminent traits. Because of His love and mercy for us, He completed the Atonement.
I remember the first scripture that ever meant anything to me was Mosiah 2:21-22: “I say unto you that if ye should serve him who has created you from the beginning, and is preserving you from day to day, by lending you breath, that ye may live and move and do according to your own will, and even supporting you from one moment to another—I say, if ye should serve him with all your whole souls yet ye would be unprofitable servants.
“And behold, all that he requires of you is to keep his commandments; and he has promised you that if ye would keep his commandments ye should prosper in the land; and he never doth vary from that which he hath said; therefore, if ye do keep his commandments he doth bless you and prosper you.”
I remember reading those verses in the MTC, and just how much they struck me. I read and re-read those verses. I studied them for a couple days. I just loved what I found there; this scripture was the first clue I really had into the great love my Savior had for me. I thought a lot at that time that two years was really no great sacrifice for the Savior, who was keeping me alive to begin with, and who would, as King Benjamin said, bless me for my service. It was a great verse for me to know that no matter how far I would be from home for the next two years, I wouldn’t be away from my Savior’s love. I called upon and found that love often in those two years and the years since. I know there is nowhere I can go, nothing I can do, that disqualifies me from His love and the hope of His atonement.
The next scripture is a question from 2 Nephi 7:2. I actually remember where I was when this question just jumped out at me. I was in the basement of the Harold B. Lee Library at BYU, just killing time before I was supposed to meet my roommate to go to a devotional. So I decided to do some reading, and this is the question that I read: “O house of Israel, is my hand shortened at all that it cannot redeem, or have I no power to deliver?” And it just struck me as a question that many people ask, that I have even asked at times in my life, and that question is this: Can Christ’s atonement really work in my case? At times like that, I have foolishly thought: Maybe His atonement is just for other people; maybe He just can’t reclaim me; maybe I can’t really change. When I read this, I realized what I had done at those times was buy into the false idea: That Christ’s arm is shortened. This question really stood out in my mind the next few weeks as I went through the Isaiah chapters, and I learned from that experience that keeping this question in mind is a great way to go through that portion of the Book of Mormon. A few pages past that question in 2 Nephi 9:7, Jacob, in his great sermon on the Atonement, testifies that “it musts needs be an infinite atonement.” Infinite means He can reclaim me and you; He can help us make those changes we need to make to become like Him.
But I really think a more direct answer to the question of, “Is Christ’s arm shortened that he cannot redeem?” is found at the end of the Isaiah chapters in 2 Nephi 28:32. As you know, the Isaiah chapters spend considerable time discussing the wickedness of the world in the latter days. Yet they end with this great verse: “For notwithstanding I shall lengthen out mine arm unto them from day to day, they will deny me; nevertheless, I will be merciful unto them, saith the Lord God, if they will repent and come unto me; for mine arm is lengthened out all the day long, saith the Lord God of Hosts.” The key word there is lengthened.. Christ’s arm isn’t shortened; it is lengthened. He can redeem. When I read this, I like to picture our Savior standing there, arms outstretched, always willing to embrace those who come unto Him. Since those days three years ago when I first studied this question, the Spirit has testified to me often that that is the reality—that Christ does stand there, arms outstretched, waiting for us to return to Him.
What I love about verse 32 is this: Christ stretches out His arms, but no one rushes to fill them—yet He does not put His arms down. Instead, he promises that He will keep his arms outstretched. His arm is always, always outstretched, ready to welcome back the vilest sinner and the most frequent sinner. His atonement is infinite, and His mercy always available.
I think no one in the Book of Mormon learned this lesson more profoundly or more dramatically than did Alma. His story of repentance is by far my favorite in the book, and the chapter where he relates this story to his son Helaman, in Alma 36, is by far my favorite chapter in all of the scriptures. I probably overquote it, but it’s meant so much to me in my life that the verses of that chapter never wander far from my heart.
Elder Jeffrey R. Holland said: “There are multitudes of men and women—in and out of the Church—who are struggling vainly against obstacles in their path. Many are fighting the battle of life—and losing. Indeed, there are those among us who consider themselves the vilest of sinners. We have all known such people. We have all spoken with someone who does not think he has been forgiven—or worse, who does not think he can be forgiven. How many broken hearts remain broken because these people feel they are beyond the pale of God’s restorative power? How many bruised and battered spirits are certain that they have sunk to a depth at which the light of redeeming hope and grace will never again shine? To these, the story of the younger Alma comes like water to a parched tongue, like rest a weary traveler.”
Alma, as you know, had spent his youth trying to destroy the church. Yet despite his viciousness toward the church, His father, the great prophet, Alma the Elder, and others in the church prayed for him. In response, an angel appeared to Alma and reprimanded him harshly for what he had done. Alma said later he was struck with such great fear that he fell to the Earth and then for three days, Alma dealt with the consequences of his actions.
Alma spends some time describe just how anguished his soul was at that time, but verse 15 is particularly poignant: “Oh, thought I, that I could be banished and become extinct both soul and body, that I might not be brought to stand in the presence of my God, to be judged of my deeds.” Now, I want to stop right there and tell a story by Tad R. Callister:
“One Sunday morning our teenaged son stood with two other priests to administer the sacrament, as they had done on many prior occasions. They pulled back the white cloth, but to their dismay there was no bread. One of them slipped out to the preparation room in hopes some could be found. There was none. Finally, our trouble son made his way to the bishop and shared the concern with him. A wise bishop then stood, explained the situation to the congregation, and asked, ‘How would it be if the sacrament table were empty today because there were no Atonement?’ I have thought of that often—what would it be like if there were no bread because there had been no crucifixion; no water because there had been no shedding of blood? Of course, the question is now moot, but it does put in perspective our total dependence on the Lord.”
Let’s apply that question to Alma’s experience. At this moment that Alma wishes he were extinct both soul and body, what is going through his mind? I believe a careful reading of this chapter reveals shows that Alma thinks there is no way back. To Alma, he had sinned, he had fallen, and he had lost. There was no more hope for him. Or so he thought. You see, to Alma suffered as sharply as he did in those three days because he knew of no Atonement. To him, the sacrament table was empty.
Fortunately, Alma soon remembered, and we pick up his story in verse 17:
“And it came to pass that 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.
“Now, as my mind caught hold upon this thought, I cried within my heart: O Jesus, thou Son of God, have mercy on me, who am in the gall of bitterness, and am encircled about by the everlasting chains of death.
“And now, behold, when I thought this, I could remember my pains no more; yea, I was harrowed up by the memory of my sins no more.
“And oh, what joy, and what marvelous light I did behold; yea, my soul was filled with joy as exceeding as was my pain!
“Yea, I say unto you, my son, that there could be nothing so exquisite and so bitter as were my pains. Yea, and again I say unto you, my son, that on the other hand, there can be nothing so exquisite and sweet as was my joy” (Alma 36:17-21).
I think no story matches the majesty of this story—it is a story of why we need the atonement, and it is a story that that atonement is accessible to all, reiterating the truth testified of by Nephi: “[Christ] inviteth them all to come unto him and partake of his goodness; and he denieth none that come unto him” (2 Nephi 26:33). It’s a story that we can change, and that Christ will help us change. We can erase the bad from our lives and redefine ourselves through repentance. Indeed, this story is another witness that Christ’s arm is not shortened, he can redeem. Had Christ’s arm been shortened, had there been no atonement, all would have been lost for Alma.
Alma’s future missionary companion, Amulek, explained it perfectly to the Zoramites: “For it is expedient that an atonement should be made; for according to the great plan of the Eternal God there must be an atonement made, or else all mankind must unavoidably perish; yea, all are hardened; yea, all are fallen and are lost, and must perish except it be through the atonement which it is expedient should be made” (Alma 34:9).
Aren’t you glad there’s an atonement? Aren’t you glad you’re Savior loved you enough to come down and take upon him all of our sins and gave his life so that we could have that hope—that hope of repentance? I know I’m grateful.
If there’s hope for Alma, there’s hope for us. No one is excluded from the outstretched hands of our Savior.
Certainly, Alma knew this truth when he later preached: “Behold, [Christ] sendeth an invitation unto all men, for the arms of mercy are extended towards them, and he saith: Repent, and I will receive you. Yea, he saith: Come unto me and ye shall partake of the fruit of the tree of life; yea, ye shall eat and drink of the bread and the waters of life freely” (Alma 5:33-34).
Alma had been invited to those waters, he had partaken, and he had found what Isaiah said he would: Alma found joy in drawing “water out of the wells of salvation” (2 Nephi 22:3). I hope each of us will take Jacob’s challenge: “Come, my brethren, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters” (2 Nephi 9:50).
How grateful I am that today the Living Waters and the Bread of Life were on the sacrament table because Christ loved us enough to perform the atonement on our behalf. May we do, as we promised in the sacramental covenant, and always remember Him. And always move closer to Him that we may more fully partake of His love and His atonement. I testify that one of the shortest, easiest and best ways to come unto Christ is through reading the Book of Mormon.
I bear my testimony that that book is true. I know its translator, Joseph Smith, was a prophet of God, who was called to restore Christ’s church. I know our Heavenly Father lives and loves us. I know He sent his Son, Jesus Christ, to take upon him our sins. I know Christ loved us enough to do just that. I know Christ lives. How grateful I am for his atonement. This I say humbly in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
