Saviors on Mount Zion

(Aimee's lesson to the Young Women, April 12, 2009 - because if I don't document this, I will forget it, and it was a huge learning experience for me to discover these principles.)

John 17:3 And this is life eternal, that they might know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou has sent.

Jesus offered a intercessory prayer right before he atoned for the sins of all mankind, where we learn how He is a go-between for the Father and the Saints. We learn that He and the Father are one, and that He is our link to God; to eternal life, and that if we want to live in His kingdom, we must KNOW THEM.

What is the best way to get to know someone? We can study what their life is like, ask questions, even shadow them as they go about their days in some cases, but until we can walk a mile in their shoes, we can never really KNOW THEM. Usually when people talk of getting to know Christ, they speak of His attributes and use the phrase "What would Jesus do?" to suggest that to be like Him, we need to act like Him. These are great ways to be more like Him, but there is something missing. What was the most important part of Christ's life? He Suffered and Atoned/Saved Us (See Mosiah 14:4-6) Do we have to suffer, atone and save others to get to know Christ? The easy answer is that we cannot possibly suffer as he did, because we are mortal. Still though, is it possible that in order to really know Him (and have eternal life) we must suffer, atone, and save others?

Joseph Smith taught that we can become Saviors on Mount Zion. What does that mean? Joseph spoke to the early Saints in England and taught:

“If we can, by the authority of the Priesthood of the Son of God, baptize a man in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, for the remission of sins, it is just as much our privilege to act as an agent, and be baptized for the remission of sins for and in behalf of our dead kindred, who have not heard the Gospel, or the fullness of it.”

“The Bible says, ‘I will send you Elijah the Prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord; and he shall turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the hearts of the children to the fathers, lest I come and smite the earth with a curse.’(Malachi 4:5-6)

“Now, the word turn here should be translated bind, or seal. But what is the object of this important mission? or how is it to be fulfilled? The keys are to be delivered, the spirit of Elijah is to come, the Gospel to be established, the Saints of God gathered, Zion built up, and the Saints to come up as saviors on Mount Zion (Obadiah 1:21).

The keys that Elijah restored, have made it possible for US to become the intercessory between those who are dead who have not heard the gospel, and God. In so doing, we can be Saviors. That accomplishes half of "walking in Christ's shoes" that was mentioned above. Usually, temple work is what "being a Savior on Mount Zion" means to us as Saints. Haven't we forgotten though, the second part of the most important part of Christ's life? He suffered and atoned. It requires a bit of suffering/sacrifice to keep oneself worthy to enter the temple, and a bit more to drive there in traffic, and a bit more to sit for the few hours it takes to do ordinances for the dead. But is it REALLY that much of a sacrifice?

In an article in the New Era by Gordon C. Thomasson in April, 1973, it is suggested that more is needed than temple work to become a Savior on Mount Zion:

Becoming a savior for others is not an easy task. If we study the life of the Savior, it becomes apparent that he suffered to aid his brothers and sisters. His anguish was so great that he wept; he often sorrowed for the unrepentant sinner; he prayed for the human family. And can we doubt that as he suffered for us and with us, his Father also suffered? When Jesus grieved to the point of bleeding at every pore, there is little doubt that his Father, loving him, wept with him. For we believe in a God who is personally involved in the salvation and exaltation of his children. God is so involved that he was willing to give his Only Begotten Son as a sacrifice to suffer and die for us. The scriptures seem to show us that even God is bound by law—for while his work, his glory, his joy is to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of his children, he can only accomplish this by granting us the freedom to reject that gift, the freedom to sin, hate, and die. God cannot force us to be exalted. He loves all his children but must allow them to reject the greatest of all gifts, the gift of eternal life and the joy that accompanies it. We must ask if to become as Christ is we must learn in some degree to suffer for others as he suffered for us.

Michele grew up physically in a comfortable upper middle-class environment in upstate New York. It was not until after having left that world, when she found herself “on the streets” in New York City, that she really began to mature spiritually. Like many of this generation she came to earth with a spirit capable of giving and loving equal to the challenge of today’s world. But it is one thing to love and another to learn how to effectively give. In seeking to fulfill herself, Michele sought many avenues for giving. Before coming to know the gospel, she saw how many ways people suffer in this life. For a time she lived in an apartment leased by the county to two heroin addicts and their three children. The parents were always on the streets in pursuit of drugs or the money to purchase drugs. What care the children got, Michele gave. Simultaneously she worked at fund raising for and as a volunteer in a hospital for children with cerebral palsy and also spent up to six hours a night on the telephones at a crisis center. Michele spent more hours working for others than one body can really stand—she kept going by taking speed. It is amazing that she kept going as long as she did.

When Michele found the Church, she had been involved in so many of the snares Satan has set for this generation that she knew she had to break cleanly with the past. She moved to another town and set about rebuilding her life according to the gospel plan. When I first met her, she was still struggling to overcome many of the temptations from her past and through repentance be reborn in Christ. As she trusted me, we talked out many of her problems and often cried together, sharing the sorrow and joy that can only come through regaining the Lord’s Spirit. Some problems I could only ask her to work out with her bishop, and after great struggles, she did. Other problems she brought to me because she felt I could understand, having known the world she knew. Late one night she revealed what seemed her greatest problem. She felt a continuing desperate urge to return to using speed. It was not the craving of an addict that drove her, however. As she learned more of the gospel of Christ and our responsibility to serve our fellowmen, she again became involved in many avenues of service to others. But this time it was not so easy. She tired quickly and could not do as much as she had previously. She felt her capacity to serve was lessened. Wouldn’t it be justified, she asked, to use speed to enable her to do more? If the drug took some toll on her body, was that so wrong, considering why she was doing it?

I knew that when she spoke of doing things for others, it was no simple rationalization. Michele really wanted to help others. It took more than a few moments of silent prayer before I was able to answer. Finally, I said, “All right, you want to give, but what do you want to give? What, for instance, did you give those three children? Can you tell me?” Though she knew I had heard the story, she repeated how she had washed clothes, fixed meals, dried tears, and tucked the children in at night. To that I responded, “Yes, but what did you give them?” This puzzled her. She started to repeat herself and then, realizing that I was asking something else, remained silent. Finally I talked for a moment about the unbelievable advances made by technology—we are on the verge of making machines that can do almost anything—and asked her what she had done for those children an existing machine or some machine that might be invented soon couldn’t have done. What, I asked, had she really given; what could she really give to anyone? She started to answer that she had given them love, but I stopped her. “Michele, tell me about speed. What does it mean when you crash?” The change took her back. Slowly she answered, reciting how methamphetamines can keep you up for only so long and then you come down physically, whether you want to or not. We talked about why it’s nice to be able to fall asleep as soon as you crash, and how if you don’t, problems start. She remembered how emotions, real and deep emotions, would well up from where the drug had suppressed them, suppressed them for as long as she had been high, and the wave of depression that followed those emotions. We talked about how being “wired” was a way to operate physically while ignoring the real-life, day-to-day sufferings that go on around you. One could do countless tasks without really feeling anything. And then I asked her again, “Michele, what did you really give those children? Even when you cuddled the little boy and bandaged up his knee, did you really feel his hurt and cry with him, feel and share his pain as we have cried together? What did you really give them?” She fell silent. “Michele,” I finally asked, “what can any human being give that is worth giving?” Gradually we began to talk again. We made a distinction between presents, things people buy, and gifts. I reminded her of how Christ contrasted the gift of the widow’s mite, a gift based on sacrifice, with the offerings made from the rich man’s surplus. We saw how every real gift involves a sacrifice on the part of the giver, a willingness to suffer for the good of others if need be. And as we talked, Michele gradually began to understand that she had been tempted to return to speed because the kinds of social commitments she knew she should make weren’t so much physically tiring as they were emotionally draining. She admitted that in trying to do the things she had once done so easily she found herself suffering with the people she wanted to help, and she recognized that it was bearing other people’s burdens, crying with them and praying for them, that left her tired, not the physical effort. It became apparent that she could not do as much physically as she once had, but by resisting the temptation to take speed, she was placing herself in a position where she could give much more. Only by keeping spiritually in tune and open to sharing could she truly give a gift worth giving, a gift no machine could duplicate. For real gifts involve the love and sacrifice of the giver; they can never simply be bought or sold. When Christ set us the example of the Good Samaritan as an ideal, the epitome of the Christian life, it seems obvious that he had in mind more than giving ambulance service to the wounded Jew. We must ask ourselves whether the Samaritan simply bore the Jew’s physical burdens, taking him to the inn and paying his lodging and care, or if he sought to comfort the Jew, offering him love and concern and fasting and praying for him. Did the Good Samaritan seek to bear the Jew’s emotional burdens; did he seek to love him? The answer seems obvious. And so we both learned a lesson about Christ-like service.

A special blessing came to me as a result of my conversation with Michele. Since it was late, I walked with her back to her apartment. As we walked, I suddenly gained a new and fuller understanding of the gospel. There are many principles I do not yet understand. My testimony is strong enough that in those cases I mentally put my questions in a back corner and proceed on faith, knowing that in time I will come to understand many things. In that way I had long before “filed” a question in my mind about Satan. I thought that I had understood why one-third of the hosts of heaven wanted Satan’s plan. They were afraid of the risks of mortality and free agency. I thought that I had understood why the plan wouldn’t work, why no real growth would have been possible, and no exaltation. But why, I had asked, would Satan, a son of the morning—already a great and mature spirit in the pre-earth life—want such a plan. What was in it for him? Did he fear mortality? As we walked it suddenly hit me. Satan wanted to be the Savior. He wanted to redeem mankind and receive the glory, but he did not want to allow anyone to sin, because he was not willing to suffer to atone for mankind. Satan was unwilling to suffer for others, unwilling to give the ultimate gift, unwilling to give Christ-like service. In a moment the gospel plan was more visible in contrast to Satan’s plan. He would have denied men their agency—and thereby their exaltation—to avoid suffering for others, while Christ was willing to allow us the opportunity to choose between good and evil and willing to suffer and to give Christ-like service, even to die to redeem us.

Giving Christ-like service is not easy, nor is accepting it. Society teaches us to say things like “I don’t want to burden you with my troubles,” and often, when we are less than we could be, give subtle cues to others that say, “Don’t tell me your troubles; I have enough of my own.” And so Satan turns us inward, away from our fellowmen, refusing to give or receive Christ-like service and love.

There are many substitutes we are tempted with today. It is so much easier to give a small amount to some charity (which we should do) than it is to spend a few hours each week visiting the sick, working with the crippled, or simply giving our love and time to a severely retarded child. It is so much easier to substitute money for our time, protecting ourselves from sharing the pain and anguish many suffer, avoiding the burdens we could help them carry. If we desire exaltation we must answer two questions: How happy do you want to be, and how much are you willing to give? For if we truly desire the work and glory that can only come through bringing to pass the immortality and eternal life of other spirits, we must be willing to suffer with them and for them, living the gospel of unselfishness.

It is not enough that we try to become Saviors on Mount Zion by doing temple work alone and stop at that point. To truly know Christ and walk in His shoes, we must experience the pain/empathy/sacrifice that comes from serving with our whole hearts. In this sense, we can feel (in a way) what it is like to atone, or to do for someone what they cannot do for themselves.

A new resolve to serve in a way that hurts us should be ours. Along with the mighty work of the temple, let us search for ways to do for others what they cannot do for themselves, and in our own small way, grow to know Christ is my prayer.