Hope through the Atonement of Jesus Christ
Neal A. Maxwell
Of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles
General Conference, October 1998
Brothers and sisters, I am very grateful to be with you today. My pate
is still somewhat shiny, but not because my barber friends have magnified their
calling. Rather, it reflects more treatments, which are encouraging in spite of
my alternating conference hairstyles.
My gratitude continues to flow—foremost to the Lord, then to my special
wife and family, competent and caring doctors and nurses, and so many friends
and members who pray in my behalf.
For a variety of reasons, brothers and sisters, today’s society seems
to struggle in order to be hopeful. The associated causes and effects co-mingle
ever so subtly.
Our everyday usage of the word hope includes how we “hope” to arrive at
a certain destination by a certain time. We “hope” the world economy will
improve. We “hope” for the visit of a loved one. Such typify our sincere but
proximate hopes.
Life’s disappointments often represent the debris of our failed,
proximate hopes. Instead, however, I speak of the crucial need for ultimate
hope.
Ultimate hope is a different matter. It is tied to Jesus and the
blessings of the great Atonement, blessings resulting in the universal
Resurrection and the precious opportunity provided thereby for us to practice
emancipating repentance, making possible what the scriptures call “a perfect brightness
of hope” (2 Ne. 31:20).
Moroni confirmed: “What is it that ye shall hope for? Behold I say unto
you that ye shall have hope through the atonement of Christ” (Moro. 7:40–41;
see also Alma 27:28). Real hope, therefore, is not associated with things mercurial,
but rather with things immortal and eternal!
Unsurprisingly, hope is intertwined with other gospel doctrines,
especially faith and patience.
Just as doubt, despair, and desensitization go together, so do faith,
hope, charity, and patience. The latter qualities must be carefully and
constantly nurtured, however, whereas doubt and despair, like dandelions, need
little encouragement in order to sprout and spread. Alas, despair comes so
naturally to the natural man!
Patience, for example, permits us to deal more evenly with the
unevenness of life’s experiences.
Faith and hope are constantly interactive and are not always easily or
precisely distinguished. Nevertheless, ultimate hope’s expectations are “with
surety” true (Ether 12:4; see also Rom. 8:24; Heb. 11:1; Alma 32:21). Yet in
the geometry of the restored theology, hope corresponds to faith but sometimes
has a greater circumference. Faith, in turn, constitutes “the assurance of
things hoped for” and the proof of “things not seen” (JST, Heb. 11:1; see also
Ether 12:6). Thus hope sometimes reconnoiters beyond the present boundaries of
faith, but it always radiates from Jesus.
No wonder souls can be stirred and rallied by real hope’s “reveille” as
by no other music. Even if a few comrades slumber or desert, “lively hope” is
still there “smiling brightly before us” (“We Thank Thee, O God, for a
Prophet,” Hymns, no. 19; see also 1 Pet. 1:3). Hope caused downcast disciples
to go quickly and expectantly to an empty garden tomb (see Mark 16:1–8; Luke 24:8–12).
Hope helped a prophet to see rescuing rain in a distant cloud which appeared to
be no larger than a man’s hand (see 1 Kgs. 18:41–46).
Such ultimate hope constitutes the “anchor of the soul” and is retained
through the gift of the Holy Ghost and faith in Christ (Heb. 6:19; see also
Alma 25:16; Ether 12:9). In contrast, viewing life without the prospect of
immortality can diminish not only hope but also the sense of personal
accountability (see 1 Cor. 15:19; Alma 30:18).
Granted, the human scene includes many individuals who go decently
about life’s labors, untouched by or unexpressive of deep religious feelings,
but who, nevertheless, draw unknowingly upon “the light of Christ,” which to a
degree lights every individual (see D&C 84:46; Moro. 7:16, 18; John 1:9).
Commendably, other individuals have openly acknowledged spiritual intimations
which sustain them.
Nevertheless, because proximate hopes are so vulnerable to irony and
the unexpected, there is an increasing and profound sense of existential
despair in the world. A grumpy cynicism now pervades politics. Many feel
burdened by society’s other accumulating anxieties.
Even those who are spiritually secure themselves can sense the chill in
the air. Cold secularism causes some of that shivering, as many have given in
to what Senator Patrick Moynihan called “defining deviancy down” (“Defining
Deviancy Down,” The American Scholar, winter 1993, 17). Much despair truly
comes of iniquity—but as God defines iniquity (see Moro. 10:22).
There is so much unsettlement and divisiveness. No wonder the
subsequent loss of hope almost inevitably sends selfishness surging as many,
resignedly, turn to pleasing themselves.
When hope is stripped away, Paul noted this tendency for some to eat and
drink, reasoning that “for tomorrow we die,” driven by the erroneous conclusion
that “when a man [is] dead, that [is] the end thereof” (1 Cor. 15:32; Alma
30:18).
Much as I lament the gathering storms, there will be some usefulness in
them. Events will help to draw fresh attention to God’s higher ways and His
kingdom, which is to “become fair as the sun, and clear as the moon” (D&C
105:31).
Individuals and nations will continue to choose what they want, but
they cannot alter the ultimate consequences of what they want.
Therefore, in this hastened ripening process, let us not be surprised
that the tares are looking more like tares all the time. During this time when
nations are in distress, with perplexity, there will actually be some
redemptive turbulence: “For the kingdom of the devil must shake, and they which
belong to it must needs be stirred up unto repentance” (2 Ne. 28:19).
Being so “stirred up” will be a real thing, though we can only
speculate as to how it will be achieved.
Meanwhile, those with ultimate hope accept the truth of this terse
verse: “But all things must come to pass in their time” (D&C 64:32).
It is well, therefore, to ponder the status of hope in our present
human context when God’s commandments seem unimportant to many. Granted, as the
scriptures say, “it is not common that the voice of the people desireth
anything contrary to that which is right” (Mosiah 29:26). But if this does
occur, bringing massive sea changes in society’s attitudes, then the judgments
of God will come (see Mosiah 29:26, 27). Only the acceptance of the revelations
of God can bring both the direction and correction needed and, in turn, a
“brightness of hope” (2 Ne. 31:20).
Real hope keeps us “anxiously engaged” in good causes even when these
appear to be losing causes on the mortal scoreboard (see D&C 58:27).
Likewise, real hope is much more than wishful musing. It stiffens, not
slackens, the spiritual spine. Hope is serene, not giddy, eager without being
naive, and pleasantly steady without being smug. Hope is realistic anticipation
which takes the form of a determination—not only to survive adversity but,
moreover, to “endure … well” to the end (D&C 121:8).
Though otherwise a “lively” attribute, hope stands quietly with us at
funerals. Our tears are just as wet, but not because of despair. Rather, they
are tears of heightened appreciation evoked by poignant separation. Those tears
of separation change, ere long, becoming tears of glorious anticipation.
Real hope inspires quiet Christian service, not flashy public fanaticism.
Finley Peter Dunne impishly observed, “A fanatic is a man who does what he
thinks the Lord would do if He knew the facts” (quoted in The Third—and Possibly
the Best—637 Best Things Anybody Ever Said, comp. Robert Byrne [1986], no.
549).
Indeed, when we are unduly impatient with an omniscient God’s timing,
we really are suggesting that we know what is best. Strange, isn’t it—we who
wear wristwatches seek to counsel Him who oversees cosmic clocks and calendars?
Because God wants us to come home after having become more like Him and
His Son, part of this developmental process, of necessity, consists of showing
unto us our weaknesses. Hence, if we have ultimate hope we will be submissive,
because, with His help, those weaknesses can even become strengths (see Ether
12:27).
It is not an easy thing, however, to be shown one’s weaknesses, as
these are regularly demonstrated by life’s circumstances. Nevertheless, this is
part of coming unto Christ, and it is a vital, if painful, part of God’s plan
of happiness. Besides, as Elder Henry B. Eyring has wisely observed, “If you
want praise more than instruction, you may get neither” (“To Choose and Keep a
Mentor,” Addresses Delivered at the 1993 Annual University Conference, Brigham
Young University [1993], 42).
By pressing forward hopefully, we can, repeatedly and joyfully, stand
on what was yesterday’s distant horizon, thereby drawing even further hope from
our very own experiences. Hence Paul described how “tribulation worketh
patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope” (Rom. 5:3–4).
Therefore, we rightly sing of God, “We’ve proved him in days that are past”
(Hymns, no. 19).
Granted, those with true hope still see their personal circumstances
shaken at times—like a kaleidoscope. Yet with the “eye of faith,” even in their
changed, proximate circumstances, they still see divine design (see Alma 5:15).
The truly hopeful, for instance, work amid surrounding decay at having
strong and happy families. Their response is the steady, Joshua response: “As
for me and my house, we will serve the Lord” (Josh. 24:15).
We may not be able to fix the whole world, but we can strive to fix
what may be amiss in our own families. Tolkien reminds us: “It is not our part
to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succour
of those years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we
know, so that those who live after may have clean earth to till. What weather
they shall have is not ours to rule” (The Return of the King [1965], 190).
Therefore, brothers and sisters, in our own little family plots, we can
bequeath to the succeeding generations “clean earth to till”! Thus not only
does charity begin at home, but so does hope!
Whatever our particular furrow, we can, in Paul’s words, “plow in
hope,” not looking back, and refusing to let yesterday hold tomorrow hostage (1
Cor. 9:10).
Genuine, ultimate hope helps us to be more loving even while the love
of many waxes cold (see Matt. 24:12). We are to be more holy, even as the world
ripens in iniquity; more courteous and patient in a coarsening and curt world,
and to be of strong hearts even when the hearts of others fail them (see Moro.
10:22).
Hope can be contagious, especially if we are to be “ready always to
give an answer to every man that asketh … a reason of the hope that is in [us]”
(1 Pet. 3:15). Said President Brigham Young, if we do not impart knowledge to
others and do good, we “will become contracted in [our] views and feelings”
(Deseret News Weekly, 9 May 1855, 68).
If we look for specific things we can do, the Holy Ghost will direct
us, showing unto us “all things” which we should do, for this is one of His
inspiring roles (see 2 Ne. 32:5). Our opportunities for helping others who have
lost hope may be no further away than in our own extended families, a
discouraged neighbor next door, or someone just around the corner. By helping a
child learn to read, visiting a lonely patient in a nursing home, or by simply
running an errand for a busy but overwhelmed parent, so much can be imparted to
others. Likewise, a simple gospel conversation can impart hope. Meanwhile,
never mind that the world will become more bipolar as between those who are
secular and permissive and those who hold to spiritual values.
Therefore, being blessed with hope ourselves, let us, as disciples,
rather than being contracted, reach out, including to those who, for whatever
reason, have “moved away from the hope of the gospel” (Col. 1:23).
As in Charles Wesley’s words in the hymn “Come Let Us Anew,” our lives
and times do glide swiftly away, and our glide paths vary widely, as we all
know. But all those who prevail “by the patience of hope and the labor of love”
will hear the glorious words, “‘Well and faithfully done; Enter into my joy and
sit down on my throne’” (Hymns, no. 217).
May this glorious moment one day be ours to claim, through the gospel
of hope—in the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, amen.
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