The text of the Holy Bible in Swedish is now available on ChurchofJesusChrist.org and in the Gospel Library app.

The Swedish Bible foundation Stiftelsen Svenska Folkbibeln has allowed the Church to digitally publish the text of the 2015 edition of the Svenska Folkbibeln version of the Holy Bible. This digital publication contains the full text of this version but does not currently contain Latter-day Saint content such as headings, footnotes, or cross-references.

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God does not leave His children to navigate mortality without help.

This idea practically screams from the doctrine of Jesus Christ.

We are given commandments. We are given the gift of the Holy Ghost. We are given scripture. We are given prophets and covenants and ordinances. We are given bishops and other leaders. 

There are also the gifts of the Spirit. In particular helping with this task is the gift of discernment. Discernment can loom large in Latter-day Saint culture. 

Discernment is a gift that helps us perceive reality in the light of the Spirit. Jesus demonstrated it frequently when he was able to perceive the true thoughts of those he came in contact with. 

It helps those it is given to distinguish truth from error, sincerity from performance, wisdom from impulse, and spiritual influence from counterfeit. It is not simply a gift for detecting danger; it can help us minister better, helping us perceive burdens, possibilities, and hidden goodness. 

Spiritual Gifts Are for the Body of Christ

Doctrine and Covenants 46 places discernment within a broader theology of spiritual gifts. The Lord teaches that gifts come from God “for the benefit of the children of God.” It is listed broadly among the gifts that can be given.

The same section also specifically includes that this gift is given to bishops so the Saints are not misled by false claims of spiritual gifts. 

Discernment is not introduced as a private superpower. It is part of the Lord’s effort to bless, order, protect, and edify the Church.

Paul teaches a similar principle in 1 Corinthians 12. Spiritual gifts are distributed across the body of Christ. No single member possesses the whole body’s wisdom, and no single gift exhausts the Spirit’s work. That means discernment is best understood not as an isolated talent possessed by a few, but as one part of a larger divine economy in which God blesses His people through many members, many gifts, and many forms of inspired service.

Discernment is framed to be about service in building the kingdom of God. It is given so the body of Christ can be protected, guided, humbled, and healed.

Discernment Is Broader Than Detecting Evil

Elder David A. Bednar, of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, has offered one of the most helpful modern explanations of the gift. Drawing on earlier teachings, he describes discernment as operating in four major ways. 1) It can help us detect hidden error or evil in others. 2) More importantly, it can help us detect hidden error or evil in ourselves. 3) It can help us find concealed good in others. 4) And it can help us find concealed good in ourselves.

That four-part framework is crucial.

Many cultural conversations about discernment focus almost entirely on the first function: detecting what is wrong with someone else. But Elder Bednar’s description gives us a much richer and more Christian account.

Discernment may help a parent sense that a child’s anger is really fear. It may help a Relief Society president recognize that a sister’s distance is not indifference but exhaustion. It may help a bishop perceive that a confession needs less interrogation and more mercy. It may help a missionary see spiritual hunger beneath defensiveness. It may help a disciple recognize that his own “righteous concern” is actually pride.

The highest form of discernment may not be the ability to expose people. It may be the ability to see them truthfully enough to call forth their better selves.

That is a profoundly Christlike gift.

Christ saw hypocrisy, but He also saw faith. He saw sin, but He also saw repentance. He saw Peter’s denial, but He also saw Peter’s future. He saw Zacchaeus in a tree and called him into a transformed life. He saw the woman taken in adultery as a soul to be rescued.

Discernment, in this sense, is not merely suspicion sharpened by religion. It is perception purified by charity.

Discernment and Judgment

The classic biblical image of discernment may be Solomon’s prayer for “an understanding heart.” Solomon did not ask to become omniscient. He asked for wisdom to judge rightly between good and bad. Discernment is tied to judgment, humility, and stewardship.

The Church’s current Handbook uses similar language when speaking of bishops and stake presidents. It says that, in their role helping members repent, these leaders are blessed with the spiritual gift of discernment, which helps them “discern truth, understand a member’s heart, and identify his or her needs.”

That is a meaningful promise. Bishops and stake presidents are not merely administrators. They are called and set apart to serve as judges in Israel. In that role, they may receive spiritual help beyond their own natural insight.

A bishop who discerns well may be better able to answer the question “What does this child of God need to come closer to Christ?”

Discernment Can Grow

Discernment is a spiritual gift, but like most spiritual gifts, that does not mean it bypasses ordinary faithful effort.

Bednar connects discernment with being “quick to observe”—the capacity to notice and obey. In another teaching on revelation, he explains that some revelation comes suddenly, like light filling a dark room, while the more common pattern is gradual, like the slow increase of light at sunrise.

In my experience, that is often how discernment works in real life. 

Sometimes a bishop, parent, missionary, or friend may receive a sudden prompting. A question comes to mind. A name appears in prayer. A warning feeling interrupts an ordinary moment. These experiences of direct and sudden discernment are real, but are not universal or to be expected at every moment. 

Discernment often develops more quietly. It comes through listening over time. It comes through knowing the scriptures, asking better questions, noticing patterns, and learning from prior mistakes. For leaders, it can grow through studying the Handbook or honoring confidences.

A leader who listens carefully is not relying less on revelation than one who waits for an unexpected impression. A ward council that gathers information, counsels together, and prays over real people is not replacing revelation with process. It may be creating the conditions in which revelation, or spiritual discernment, can be recognized.

Discernment Belongs to Councils

One of the most important correctives to an overly narrow view of discernment is the doctrine of councils.

In a worldwide leadership training discussion, fellow apostle Elder M. Russell Ballard taught that no one person knows all the answers to every question and that councils allow leaders to draw on inspiration from various members. Bednar added that it is a mistaken notion that every element of ward revelation must come through the bishop. By virtue of his keys, the bishop directs and affirms, but he does not need to receive “every jot and tittle” of revelation himself. He also observed that discernment operates more effectively when a presiding officer listens rather than dominates.

The doctrine of discernment taught by these leaders is a mature and deeply grounded one. The gift of discernment works best when joined to humility, councils, and the gifts of others.

The Myth of the Magical Bishop

In some Latter-day Saint conversations, discernment has been imagined in a way that is much narrower, more automatic, and more dramatic than the scriptures require or even imply. This expectation shows up both among some believing members and among some critics of the Church.

The assumption goes like this: if bishops and other leaders have the gift of discernment, then they should be able to detect hidden sin, deception, danger, or unworthiness with perfect reliability. Under that assumption, every missed warning sign becomes evidence that the gift is not real.

There is an assumption that the only way for the Church to be true is for no bishop to ever miss anything. This is not a straw man. It is a recognizable criticism that proliferates in spaces where people have become disillusioned with the Church, perhaps in part because they expected something more like the magic of Wonder Woman’s Lasso of Truth or Professor X’s telepathy than the spiritual gifts of the New Testament. 

Similar questions arise in pastoral and abuse contexts. If God can provide discernment in some cases, why doesn’t he provide it every time it could help alleviate pain or prevent deception?

These concerns deserve empathy. They often come from pain. But they also reveal a misunderstanding of the gift.

A grounded Christian understanding of discernment does not require bishops to be miraculously perfect. It does not treat a calling as a guarantee of constant supernatural detection. It does not make revelation a substitute for confession, evidence, councils, law, policy, or the moral responsibility to speak and act.

The magical version says, “If God is involved, the bishop should just know.”

The Christian version says, “Because God is involved, the bishop should pray, listen, counsel, study, ask, follow the Handbook, protect the vulnerable, receive correction, and seek the Spirit.”

Those are very different models.

A Better Practice

A better doctrine of discernment leads to better practice.

For members, it means we should not outsource honesty to a leader’s supposed ability to detect truth. A person confessing sin should tell the truth because discipleship requires truthfulness, not because the bishop might catch him. A person who needs help should not assume, “If God wanted the bishop to know, he would know.” Sometimes the Spirit prompts a leader. Sometimes the Lord expects us to speak.

For bishops and stake presidents, it means spiritual impressions should be received humbly. The Handbook itself makes this clear. In matters involving serious sin, a bishop or stake president may receive promptings, but if a member denies an accusation, “a spiritual impression alone is not sufficient” to hold a membership council. Leaders are instructed to gather appropriate information and avoid unlawful or inappropriate methods.

That is not a lack of faith in discernment. It is disciplined faith in discernment. It is realizing that when you learned in third grade that multiplication makes numbers bigger, and then learned in fifth grade that you can multiply by fractions, no one was lying to you; the full reality is just more nuanced than you learned on the first pass. 

If there was an example where you wish the gift of discernment had been present, but it wasn’t, that does disprove a simplistic version of the gift of discernment, but it can help you move to a more mature, fuller understanding of how gifts of the Spirit work. 

Seeing as Christ Sees

The gift of discernment is one of the great gifts of the Spirit because discipleship requires more than eyesight.

We need to distinguish spiritual light from counterfeit light. We need to recognize our own self-deception. We need to see hidden goodness in people we are tempted to dismiss. We need to understand when correction is needed and when mercy is needed. We need to know when to speak, when to listen, when to wait, and when to act.

Bishops need that gift. So do parents. So do all of us. But we need discernment not because leaders are flawless, but because none of us are. Discernment is not merely the power to see what is wrong. It is the grace to see more nearly as Christ sees.

The post The Discipline of Spiritual Sight appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints find themselves in a most unusual position. We believe in God, the Eternal Father. We believe in Jesus Christ, accept his gospel, acknowledge him as Savior, Lord, God, and King. We look to him for forgiveness of our sins and declare that salvation comes in and through his name and in no other way (Philippians 2:9-11). We strive to live our lives according to his example and teachings and are committed to the fact that the depth of our Christianity is most evident, not in theological gymnastics, nor in a received vocabulary, but rather in the way we treat other men and women. We exercise hope in the immortality of the soul, a belief that we will live again after death, because Jesus himself rose from the dead (1 Corinthians 15:21-22). And yet, interestingly, many in Christendom declare that the Latter-day Saints are not Christian.

Reasons for Exclusion

Non-acceptance of the Doctrine of the Trinity

Perhaps more than any other reason, Latter-day Saints aren’t considered to be Christian because of our non-acceptance of the post-New Testament creeds and theological formulations concerning Christ and the Godhead, beginning with the Council of Nicaea in AD 325. Latter-day Saints do believe there are three members of the Godhead—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; that each of the members of the Godhead possesses all of the attributes of Godliness in perfection; and that the love and unity that exist among these three Persons is of such magnitude that they constitute a divine community that is often referred to in the Book of Mormon as “one eternal God” (see 2 Nephi 31:21; Alma 11:44; 3 Nephi 11:27, 36; 28:10; Mormon 7:7). 

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland stated: 

We believe these three divine persons constituting a single Godhead are united in purpose, in manner, in testimony, in mission. We believe Them to be filled with the same godly sense of mercy and love, justice and grace, patience, forgiveness, and redemption. I think it is accurate to say we believe They are one in every significant and eternal aspect imaginable except believing Them to be three persons combined in one substance, a Trinitarian notion never set forth in the scriptures because it is not true …

It is not our purpose to demean any person’s belief,” Elder Holland affirmed, “nor the doctrine of any religion. We extend to all the same respect to their doctrine that we are asking for ours. (That, too, is an article of our faith.) But if one says we are not Christians because we do not hold a fourth- or fifth-century view of the Godhead, then what of those first Christian Saints, many of whom were eyewitnesses of the living Christ, who did not hold such a view either?

Were they not Christians?

Members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints pray to God the Eternal Father, in the name of Jesus Christ, by the power of the Holy Ghost; we acknowledge the Father as the ultimate object of our worship (John 5:19, 26; 7:16; 14:28; D&C 20:19) and confess the Son of God as our Lord and Redeemer, our one and only hope for deliverance from sin and death in this world, as well as our glorious hope for  eternal life in the world to come. We teach of the Holy Spirit as the Messenger of the Father and the Son, the Revealer of the mind and will of God, and the Sanctifier, the means by which filth and dross are burned out of the human soul as though by fire. We are encouraged and charged by our leaders to seek the constant companionship of the Spirit, to attend to its promptings, to follow its lead.

We baptize people “in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost” (3 Nephi 11:23-26; D&C 20:73-74). And, for that matter, the highest ordinance or sacrament within our Church, eternal marriage, received only in the temple, is performed in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. In short, the Latter-day Saints live and move and have their being by and through the members of the Godhead; ours is a lived rather than a spoken or creedal connection to these holy beings. 

Scripture Beyond the Bible

Another reason for the exclusion of Latter-day Saints from the category of Christian is because we do not believe in the sufficiency of the Bible. In point of fact, to state that the Bible is the final word of God—more specifically, the final written word of God—is to claim more for the Bible than it claims for itself. We are nowhere given to understand that after the ascension of Jesus and the ministry and writings of those first century apostles, that revelations from God that would eventually take the form of written scripture and thus be added to the canon, would cease. As Joseph Smith taught, one would need to have received a modern revelation in order to know for certain that there will be no more revelation beyond the Bible.

So why was the canon of scripture closed? Emeritus Professor Lee M. McDonald, an Evangelical Christian scholar, posed some fascinating questions relative to the present closed canon of scripture. “The first question,” he writes, “and the most important one, is whether the church was right in perceiving the need for a closed canon of scriptures.” McDonald also asks: 

Did such a move toward a closed canon of scriptures ultimately (and unconsciously) limit the presence and power of the Holy Spirit in the church? More precisely, does the recognition of absoluteness of the biblical canon minimize the presence and activity of God in the church today? … On what biblical or historical grounds has the inspiration of God been limited to the written documents that the church now calls its Bible?

While McDonald poses other issues, let me refer to his final question: “If the Spirit inspired only the written documents of the first century, does that mean that the same Spirit does not speak today in the church about matters that are of significant concern?”

Indeed, we might ask: Who authorized the canon to be closed? Who decided that the Bible was and forevermore would be the final written word of God?  Why would one suppose that the closing words of the Apocalypse represented the “end of the prophets”? Latter-day Saints find themselves today in a hauntingly reminiscent position relative to the continuing and ongoing mind and will of God. Is ours not the same basic message that Jesus and Peter and Paul and John delivered to the unbelieving Jews of their day—that the heavens had once again been opened, that new light and knowledge had burst upon the earth, and that God had chosen to reveal himself through the ministry of his Beloved Son and his ordained apostles?

Let’s be clear on this matter: no branch of Christianity limits itself entirely to the biblical text in making doctrinal decisions and in applying biblical principles. Roman Catholics turn to scripture, to church tradition, and to the magisterium or teaching office in the church for answers. Protestants, particularly Evangelicals, turn to linguists and scripture scholars for their answers, as well as to post-New Testament church councils and creeds. This seems, at least in my view, to be in violation of Sola Scriptura, the clarion call of the Reformation to rely solely upon scripture itself. In fact, there is no final authority on scriptural interpretation when differences arise, which of course they do regularly.

 “When [traditional Christians] accuse Mormons of not believing the Bible,” Professor Stephen Robinson has written, “they usually mean that we do not believe interpretations formulated by postbiblical councils. If [traditional Christians] are going to insist on the doctrine of sola scriptura [scripture alone] … then they ought to stop ascribing scriptural authority to postbiblical traditions.”

Would the early Christians who had for decades had access only to the Gospel of Mark (considered by most Biblical scholars to be the first Gospel written) have considered the deeper spiritual realities set forth later in the Gospel of John to be a portrait of “a different Jesus”?  Hardly. Thus the current mantra of “Latter-day Saints worship a different Jesus” is a sad, misguided, and too often malicious misrepresentation of the way things really are. Latter-day Saints clearly worship the historical Jesus, the Christ of the New Testament—the man who was born in Bethlehem, lived and ministered during the reign of Tiberius Caesar, functioned under the oversight of Caiaphas (Jews) and Pilate (Romans), gave his life as a sacrificial offering to atone for the sins of humankind, and rose from the grave in glorious resurrected immortality. That there may be differences on certain points of theology is not unimportant, but it does not merit the misleading concept that Latter-day Saints somehow worship a “different Jesus.” Supplementation of the Bible is clearly not the same as contradiction of the Bible.

One wonders whether modern conservative Christianity may unwittingly have created a type of double standard in terms of (a) what is required to be saved, and (b) what it takes to be a Christian. 

In the New Testament and at the time of Paul’s and Silas’s miraculous release from prison, the Philippian jailer asked the question of questions: “Sirs, what must I do to be saved? And [the apostles] said, Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house.” Paul wrote to the Roman Saints that “if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation … For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.” 

Could it be, then, that a Latter-day Saint who professes total faith in and reliance upon Jesus Christ and who seeks in gratitude to keep his commandments, can be saved but at the same time not qualify to be called a Christian? That seems strange at best.

What Kind of a Christian?

Sadly enough, the one feature and facet of Christianity with which too few seem to concern themselves is what might be called orthopraxy—how we act, how we live out our Christian faith. Jesus charged his disciples: “A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.” In assessing whether a man or woman is a true follower of the Savior, a Christian, we might ask: How does this person treat others, especially those who believe or act differently? Is the manner in which a person presents the gospel message such that the gospel may be perceived as “good news”?

Is this person’s speech and interpersonal relations such that people feel welcomed and appreciated, rather than spurned and rejected? To what extent does this person’s faith community feed the hungry, care for the poor, respond swiftly to natural disaster, or otherwise involve itself and its members in extending and disbursing Christian charity? This is how the first century saints were known and identified, and it is today a pretty persuasive evidence of the depth of one’s Christianity. The age-old question is still poignant and haunting: “If you were arrested and were to be tried for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?”

The fact is, no mortal man or woman is in a position to judge, to discern and perceive the depths of another human soul. No one of us has within his or her grasp the data, the delicate details, to so determine. C. S. Lewis, the beloved Christian writer and defender of the faith, a man whose focus on “mere Christianity” has made him a favorite of millions, declared: “It is not for us to say who, in the deepest sense, is or is not close to the spirit of Christ. We do not see into men’s hearts. We cannot judge, and indeed are forbidden to judge. It would be wicked arrogance for us to say that any man is, or is not, a Christian in this refined sense … When a man who accepts the Christian doctrine lives unworthily of it, it is much clearer to say he is a bad Christian than to say he is not a Christian.” 

What Exactly is a Christian?

A Christian is one who is a follower of Jesus. No one of us has the power or right to look into the hearts of men and women and discern the reality of their Christianity or the depths of their commitment to the Son of God. Faith is a personal matter and is really between that person and God. What then are some standard definitions of a Christian, put forward by more traditional Christians?

From the 1828 Webster’s Dictionary: “A believer in the religion of Christ; professor of his belief in the religion of Christ; one who … studies to follow the example, and obey the precepts, of Christ.”

From The Shorter Oxford English Dictionary: “A member of a particular sect using this name”; a civilized human being; a decent, respectable person.”

From the Harper’s Bible Dictionary: “Christian’ is the term that was increasingly applied to Jesus’s followers in the late first and early second centuries.”

From the Holman Bible Dictionary: “an adherent of Christ; one committed to Christ; a follower of Christ.”

In the Westminster Dictionary of Theological Terms: “a name applied originally in Antioch to followers of Jesus Christ (Acts 11:26) and now used to designate those who believe in Jesus Christ and seek to live in the ways he taught.”

From The Amsterdam Declaration (2000): “The word Christian should not be equated with any particular cultural, ethnic, political, or ideological tradition or group. Those who know and love Jesus are also called Christ-followers, believers and disciples.”

Some friends of other faiths have suggested to me that it appears that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is seeking to move into “the mainstream of Christianity.” To be sure, Latter-day Saint leaders have encouraged members of the Church to get to know their neighbors better; to be more involved in community, civic, and political affairs; to show greater love, acceptance, and tolerance for those of other faiths; and, in general, help the world to better understand us. In addition, our Church is seeking to be better understood, to teach our doctrine in a manner that would (a) allow others to see clearly where we stand on important issues, and (b) eliminate misperceptions and avoid misrepresentations.

To be honest, it would be foolish for Latter-day Saints to stray from their moorings and seek to blend in with everyone else in the Christian world. People are joining our Church in ever-increasing numbers, not because we are just like the Roman Catholics or the Greek Orthodox or the Baptists or the Methodists or the Presbyterians or the Anglicans down the street. These people choose to leave their former faith and be baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints because of our distinctives; our strength lies in our distinctive teachings and lifestyle. In that spirit, President Gordon B. Hinckley said:

 Those who observe us say that we are moving into the mainstream of religion. We are not changing. The world’s perception of us is changing. We teach the same doctrine. We have the same organization. We labor to perform the same good works … They are coming to realize what we stand for and what we do.

Joseph Smith once observed: 

If I esteem mankind to be in error, shall I bear them down? No. I will lift them up, and in their own way too, if I cannot persuade them my way is better; and I will not seek to compel any man to believe as I do, only by the force of reasoning, for truth will cut its own way.

 There is too much at stake in the world today for God-fearing people to spend their time and energies attacking, belittling, or misrepresenting those who choose to believe differently. Jesus certainly called us all to a higher standard than that. What was his plea in prayer for his followers only hours before his sufferings and death? “That they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us: that the world may believe that thou hast sent me.”  

The post Latter-day Saints and the Christian World appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

But today it has taken on a more bureaucratic feel. The old “UFO” has become the “UAP,” an unidentified anomalous phenomenon. The phrase feels less theatrical, but the fascination is the same. Americans still want to know whether the strange lights in the sky are drones, balloons, sensor errors, secret aircraft, or something stranger.

But while these conversations have historically been sidelined as conspiracy theories that serious people don’t engage in, that has changed. Former President Barack Obama recently made headlines for saying he believes aliens are real. Congress held public hearings on UAPs, including a 2024 hearing titled “Unidentified Anomalous Phenomena: Exposing the Truth,” followed by continued congressional requests for records and video files in 2026. NASA convened an independent UAP study team and concluded that the subject deserves a rigorous, evidence-based scientific approach. Since 2010, up to 70 planets have been discovered that are in the “habitable zones” of their star systems. The 2025 documentary “The Age of Disclosure” included interviews from military pilots, Department of Defense officials, Congressional Representatives and Senators, a Former Director of National Intelligence, and the Secretary of State. And the Pentagon began its release of UFO files. 

The sudden official sheen to this conversation has intensified the cultural imagination. While there have been no likely or definitive conclusions that extra-terrestrials have visited Earth, the question is being taken seriously in a way it never has before.

Aliens and Religion

A 2021 Pew survey found that just over half of Americans said military reports of UFOs were probably or definitely evidence of intelligent life beyond Earth. Religious Americans were somewhat less likely than the unaffiliated to say intelligent extraterrestrial life exists. 

For many, the religious question is obvious: What would happen to faith if we discovered we are not alone?

At the same time, the most careful surveys complicate the popular assumption that religion would collapse under the weight of alien life. Ted Peters’ “ETI Religious Crisis Survey” tested the idea that contact with extraterrestrial intelligence would produce a religious crisis, and found that most religious respondents did not expect their own tradition to collapse. Interestingly, religious people were often less worried about their own faith than secular respondents were about religion in general. In other words, the people most confident that aliens would destroy religion were often people outside religion looking in.

But if intelligent life exists elsewhere, how could aliens and religion fit together? How would faith survive this change to our paradigm of life and creation?

I want to explore that question within the context of my own tradition, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

In my view, Latter-day Saints are unusually well-suited to think about the possibility of alien life. That does not mean we should credulously accept every sensational claim or canonize every blurry Pentagon video. Our faith does not depend on crashed saucers, whistleblower testimony, or the latest congressional hearing. But, if extraterrestrial life were discovered—microbial, animal, or intelligent—it would not require Latter-day Saints to rebuild their theology from the foundation up. In many ways, the foundation is already there.

Latter-day Saint scripture has never pictured creation as a small, sealed human stage with Earth alone under the eye of God. It teaches “worlds without number,” heavenly parents, faraway stars, and an infinite atonement. The Restoration certainly did not shrink the Christian cosmos. 

A Cosmos That is Already Full

The first reason Latter-day Saints need not panic over the possibility of extraterrestrial life is simple: our scriptures already teach that God’s creations extend far beyond this earth.

In the Book of Moses, Moses is shown a vision of the earth and its inhabitants and then learns that God has created “worlds without number” through the Only Begotten. The scripture does not explicitly state, but heavily implies, that many of these worlds were inhabited by children of God (and the chapter summary states that). It implies that these many worlds are part of God’s plan to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of His children.

Doctrine and Covenants (D&C) section 76 is even more direct. In Joseph Smith and Sidney Rigdon’s vision of the degrees of glory, they testify that by Jesus Christ “the worlds are and were created,” and that “the inhabitants thereof are begotten sons and daughters unto God.” This is the most direct reference in Latter-day Saint scripture to inhabitants of multiple worlds. It does not merely say that God made stars, planets, or matter. He made inhabitants. And it places those inhabitants in a familial relationship to God. D&C 93 similarly teaches that worlds were made by Christ. 

D&C 88 describes that Christ is the light that is the sun, moon, stars, and earth, and the light that “fills the immensity of space.” Scripture then teaches that God created other worlds, they have inhabitants, those inhabitants are children of God, and it is Christ’s light that is on all of them.

It doesn’t say what our relationship is or will be with those inhabitants of other worlds. 

Modern Church leaders have repeatedly returned to this theme. Late Church President Russell M. Nelson taught that the earth is only one of many creations over which God presides, and he cautioned that our knowledge of the Creation is limited and will be augmented in the future. President Dieter F. Uchtdorf of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles has used the vastness of the universe to emphasize not human insignificance, but divine love; the God who created worlds without number still knows and values His children.

Elder Neal A. Maxwell, who also served in the Quorum of the Twelve, made the same point. He taught that the Restoration explicitly affirms a plurality of worlds and that God’s universal majesty does not make Him less personally involved in our individual lives. He said, “How many planets are there with people on them? We don’t know. There appears to be none in our own solar system, but we are not alone in the universe. … God is not the God of only one planet!”

These scriptural statements, and the interpretation from Church leaders, establish a basic theological posture. Latter-day Saints do not approach the universe assuming that human beings on Earth are the only rational creatures God has ever loved.

Creation is Not Random 

Latter-day Saint theology does not treat these worlds as mere divine trophies. The God of Moses creating these many worlds does not do so merely to display his power. He creates because He is a Father. This is the center of Moses 1. The scale of creation makes divine parenthood feel inexhaustible.

This is crucial for thinking about alien life. If there are living organisms elsewhere, they are not theological clutter. They are part of creation. If there are intelligent, morally accountable beings elsewhere, they are not an embarrassment to Christian doctrine. They would be evidence that God’s family is as large as we imagined.

Abraham 3 gives Latter-day Saints a distinctive vocabulary for this question. It speaks of intelligences, of differing degrees of intelligence, and of God as greater than them all. Whatever else this passage means, it resists the idea that human life is a late accidental spark in a meaningless universe. Intelligence, agency, hierarchy, progression, and divine governance are built into reality. 

But none of these possibilities would make God smaller. 

Are They Children of God?

The hard theological question is not whether extraterrestrial life could exist. In Latter-day Saint thought, it clearly can. The harder question is what kind of life it would be. 

Latter-day Saint theology distinguishes between different forms of life. Plants, animals, mortals, and resurrected beings do not occupy the same moral or salvific category. So if life exists elsewhere, the first theological question would not be “Are they aliens?” It would be, “Are they God’s spirit children?”

D&C 76 provides the strongest reason to believe that at least some inhabitants of other worlds are indeed sons and daughters of God. President Joseph Fielding Smith, a former prophet of The Church of Jesus Christ, similarly taught that the Father, through His Only Begotten, created worlds without number and that these worlds are peopled by His spirit children. 

That does not require us to assume that every organism in the cosmos is spiritually equivalent to human beings, but it implies we should be open to the idea that some are. It also doesn’t answer whether other worlds are populated now, were populated in the past, or will be populated in the future. But it does mean that Latter-day Saints already have a category for non-earthly persons who belong to the family of God. 

This is where Latter-day Saint theology differs from a thin human exceptionalism. We do believe human beings are made in the image of God. We do believe this earth has sacred significance. We do believe Jesus Christ was born, died, and rose here. But we do not believe God’s love is provincial. The fact that He is our Father does not prevent Him from being Fathers to others. 

As anyone who is not an only child knows, a sibling does not reduce the love you receive from a parent. 

One Savior, Many Sheep

One of the more difficult questions about extra-terrestrials and traditional Christianity has often been the Incarnation. If Christ was born on this Earth, does that make Earth cosmically unique? Would He need to be incarnate, suffer, die, and rise again on every inhabited world? Are there multiple falls, multiple redemptions, multiple atonements? 

Latter-day Saint leaders have generally answered by affirming both the local reality of Christ’s mortal ministry and the cosmic scope of His redeeming work. 

Nelson taught that the Atonement of Jesus Christ is infinite, not merely in duration, but in scope, extending to all humankind and to the infinite number of worlds created by Him. This gives Latter-day Saints a powerful doctrinal framework. We do not need to imagine a weak, local Christ whose saving power stops at the atmosphere. Nor do we need to multiply incarnations beyond what has been revealed. We can affirm what scripture and prophetic teaching affirm: Jesus Christ is the Only Begotten of the Father in the flesh, the Creator of worlds, the Redeemer, and the Lord of the universe.

That does not resolve every mechanics-of-salvation question. But questions remain even without the addition of extraterrestrial life. If intelligent beings on other worlds fall, how is Christ revealed to them? What ordinances do they receive? Do they have prophets? Do they have scriptures? We don’t know.

The Book of Mormon prepares Latter-day Saints for the idea that God’s dealings with one people are never the whole story.

In 3 Nephi, Jesus tells the Nephites that He has “other sheep” who are not of Jerusalem and not of the Nephite land, and that He must go show Himself to them. I’m not suggesting Jesus was implying he was visiting other worlds, but underlining the idea that there are always more children of God for Christ to minister to. 

Christ’s self-disclosure is not limited to the records we presently possess. There are divine visits not recorded in our canon. Latter-day Saints have an open canon. If God has had dealings with other worlds, that would not offend the structure of our faith. 

Do we know? No, but not being told is not the same as being trapped. Latter-day Saints are comfortable with revealed patterns and unrevealed details. We know enough.

What If They Are More Righteous Than We Are?

Latter-day Saints should be cautious about imagining ourselves as cosmic tourists or missionaries. We have been given commandments, covenants, priesthood keys, and missionary obligations for this world. We do not possess a revealed commission to carry ordinances to hypothetical civilizations in another solar system. If God has children elsewhere, He is capable of revealing Himself to them, calling prophets among them, appointing ordinances suited to His law, and gathering them in His own order.

The aliens say that they love Jesus, and that He comes to visit every few years.

The pope is shocked. “Every few years, but He hasn’t even come a second time yet?”

The aliens feel bad, and try to help, “Maybe He doesn’t like your chocolate.”

The pope confused asks, “Chocolate? What does chocolate have to do with anything?”

“Well,” the aliens explain, “every time he comes we give him a big basket of chocolate. Why, what did you give to Him?”

Jokes aside, another possibility is exactly what the joke posits, that intelligent extraterrestrial beings do exist, and they are not invaders or monsters or lost pagans waiting for us to teach them about God. They might be more obedient, unified, humble or righteous than we are. 

Again, Latter-day Saint scripture leaves room for such a possibility. Abraham 3 teaches that intelligence differ and that God is greater than them all. This should help discipline our imaginations. Much of our alien fiction is really human self-projection. Sometimes aliens are our fears, sometimes our aspirations. Latter-day Saint theology gives as a less sentimental and more serious possibility. Other beings could simply be God’s children. Some wicked, some innocent, some righteous. 

What if There is No Alien Life?

A sound theology must also account for the other possibility: that we may never discover intelligent extraterrestrial life. The current evidence certainly does not prove alien existence, let alone alien visitation. Serious Latter-day Saint thinking should not build spiritual excitement around speculation that may collapse under scrutiny.

If no alien civilization is ever found, however, Latter-day Saint theology remains untouched. “Worlds without number” does not need to mean that human scientists in 2026 can identify, contact, or verify those worlds. God’s creations may be distant in space, separated by time, hidden by limits of observation, or simply beyond our stewardship. 

This helps protect us from two opposite errors. If the skeptic says, “If aliens exist, religion is false,” and enthusiasts say “If UAPs are real, my religion is confirmed,” Latter-day Saints should reject both. Our faith is grounded in Jesus Christ, his covenants, and the witness of the Holy Ghost—not in the newest unidentified object.  

The Restoration gives us a capacious cosmos, but it does not require gullibility. 

A Theology Big Enough for Discovery

So where does that leave us?

No matter what we discover, or don’t discover, the theological center holds. The Latter-day Saint doctrine of creation is already cosmic. The doctrine of God is already parental. The atonement of Christ is already infinite. And our understanding of revelation is already open. 

Not every speculation has, or even needs, an answer. We do not know whether any UAP represents extraterrestrial intelligence. We do not know what they look like, we do not know what their history is, or what their relationship is like to Christ. 

But we know enough that we do not need to fear that a discovery of aliens will upend our theology or understanding of the cosmos. We already know our Earth is small, but important eternally.

The discovery of alien life would not make the gospel any less true. It might just remind us that God’s household is larger than we suppose. That wouldn’t upend our beliefs. In fact, it sounds quite familiar. 

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The story of Queen Esther focuses on a terrifying extermination order in Ancient Persia to eliminate the Jewish population—and a high-stakes marital challenge. Queen Esther, a Jew, was married to the Persian King Ahasuerus (also known as Xerxes). The king had permitted his highest-ranking official, Haman, to pass the extermination order without knowing its consequences to the Jewish people—or the Jewish identity of his own wife. 

Esther’s uncle, Mordecai, urged Esther to approach the king to plead for her people’s lives. But Persian law dictated that anyone who approached the king in his inner court without being specifically summoned would be put to death. The only exception was if the king extended his golden scepter to spare the person’s life.

Faced with the threat of her people’s destruction, Esther called her community to fast and pray before she approached the king:

Go, gather together all the Jews that are present in Shushan, and fast ye for me, and neither eat nor drink three days, night or day: I also and my maidens will fast likewise; and so will I go in unto the king, which is not according to the law: and if I perish, I perish.

Esther then stepped forward with courage to do what was right despite immense danger. 

She expressed her strength not only inwardly, but in an outward act of faith. Through her religious actions and the united actions of her faith community, she successfully persuaded her husband, the king, to spare her people—and her own life. 

Esther’s inspiring story is retold once a year in the Jewish community, and her courageous spirit lives on in the daily lives of highly religious women. For highly religious women, Esther is not just a historical figure but a functional model for navigating challenging situations, including in the home. In this article, we will discuss the findings from a recent study we conducted about the religious actions that women of faith, like Esther, take to overcome their marital challenges and hardships.

Belief in God Leads to External Resources That Strengthen Marriage

Esther’s unwavering faith in God gave her the strength to face the king, even if it meant she might die. In our study, while the lives of believers were not on the line, family happiness was. We found a recurring theme of what religious women do to call down the power of God into their family life. Gwen, an African American Christian, called it the “big three” and said this:

If you are doing the big three: prayer, being in the word, and fellowshipping with those of like faith then it helps you, and you can encourage other people when they do see that you’re still happy in your marriage after umpteen years.

So how do prayer, scripture, and fellowshipping contribute to happy marriages and families? We turn now to insights from our study participants.

Prayer

Our study participants commonly expressed a connection between their relationship with God and the way they chose to act in their marriages and families. They reported that they built strong bonds with God through prayer. Anne, a Catholic, said:

My faith has had its ups and downs. During the lowest downs where I’ve really been kind of far from God, I haven’t been a very good wife, and I haven’t been a very good mother. But when I’ve come back to God and been closer and been more faithful and more active in my own personal prayer life, then I’ve been better: a nicer person and a better wife and a better mother. So, they just, they’re totally hand in hand. I can’t really separate prayer and my family relationships.

Not only did prayer help participants improve their relationships, but it also fostered spiritual and personal growth. Alyshia, an African American Christian, offered this:

Having a solid relationship with the Lord … He will tell you when you are out of line. The Lord will change you and say, ‘Look at thy selfishness; … and then we can see a little more clearly. Definitely, a solid relationship with God helps with my marriage and family relationships.

In addition, husbands and wives used prayer as a means of resolving disagreements. Yui, a Chinese Christian, said, “When we had some disagreements, we prayed together, confessed our sins before God, and learned to forgive each other.” For many of the women we interviewed, prayer was not merely a religious practice—it involved a sacred connection to get closer to God and closer to family.

Scripture Study

Reading sacred texts or scriptures emerged as another key resource for the women we interviewed. Moriah, a Jewish wife, said that reading the Torah brought her and her spouse closer together:

So often you just stop talking. You don’t communicate, and so I think when we read Torah together, which we really try to do pretty often, it does create conversation and more understanding, and I think certainly that reduces conflict. It prevents conflict. It also helps remedy conflict once it’s there.

Cassandra, an African American Christian wife, also commented:

I get all of my inspiration and all of my guidance from the Bible. That’s how I learned how to treat others. How to treat people and how to be in my marriage with my relationship with my husband. And that is what puts things in priority, in order. That’s where I get it from. And when I make decisions, I always say, ‘I don’t make decisions just based on what I think. It’s coming from scripture.’ It’s gonna be scripture-based or it’s gonna be something on that ground.

Not only did scripture study reportedly influence couple communication and personal decision-making, but it also enhanced participants’ relationships with both God and with their spouse—reflecting similar benefits to prayer. Mercy, a Baptist wife, relayed this about God’s word:

When two people are married, what’s wrong in you really influences the other person. But for me, I find the only way that I grow very effectively is through God’s touch in my life. So I study in scripture and learn more about who God is and what His heart is for our relationship, for His world that He’s made. It helps me to be able to grow myself so that I can better apply what I learn into my relationships.

Participating in a Faith Community

Just as Esther drew support from her uncle and the Jewish community, the women we interviewed drew vital support from their faith communities. Emily, a Baptist wife and mother, highlighted how her congregation gave her needed support:

So, faith helps me because I realize that there is a different way to do [life]. And I can actually learn how to do it differently, with other people who are also learning too. Some people I know are much further along, and I can learn from them. And I find that I can actually share experiences with other people that help them. I think being in a faith community is helpful that way, because we realize that we’re not alone.

Sometimes I’ll go to Bible study and I’ll realize: ‘Boy, the kinds of things that my husband Michael and I maybe are facing or dealing with are nothing compared to what someone else might be experiencing.’ Or I can learn from other people and bring it back into our marriage and say: ‘Hey, this is something somebody shared with me; and what do you think?’ So it’s a dynamic thing. There’s all these relationships that affect us and we have those relationships because we have the same faith.

Similarly, Noor, an Arab American Muslim wife and mother, commented on how her masjid (mosque) and its faith-based classes have offered her direction in her marriage:

Basically, I need to learn more about Islam to strengthen our marriage, even make it stronger. I think that by getting more in depth in Islam, which I’m trying to do now, I’m going to classes and everything. So, it’s helping me understand a lot more; and I think that it makes me understand more my role in our marriage and how I’m supposed to act.

Many of these women of faith drew marital support from their faith communities.  These supportive relationships were often so strong that many women referred to “sisters” and “brothers” in their “church family” who had helped their marriages to grow spiritually, temporally, and relationally. Many of the women of faith emphasized that growing alongside others helped them navigate their marriages and parenting with greater wisdom and perspective than they would have found on their own.

A Legacy of Courage

Our study participants’ words echo the legacy of Esther: courage is born not only from within, but from a life rooted in faith and the relationships it enriches. Like Esther, these women found strength not in their circumstances but in their devotion to God and in the support of a covenant community. 

By turning to the “big three” of prayer, studying sacred texts, and engaging in marriage-strengthening fellowship with others, their faith shaped how they navigated marital hardship in myriad ways. The sacred practices of these women did more than comfort them; these relational efforts empowered them. Prayer, study, and covenant community worked together to foster clarity, compassion, and resilience in the face of difficulties and challenges in family life. Ultimately, the perspective of these women was that active faith in God can help provide not only a set of coping tools, but a deeper sense of strength, purpose, and connection within their marriages.

The post Women of Faith, Action, and Power appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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For many lovers of classical music, Handel’s Messiah represents the pinnacle of both artistic and spiritual excellence. It is almost temple-like in its ability to create an intersection between the human and the Divine. Handel’s work has helped countless listeners to internalize the message of the Savior’s birth, Atonement, and Resurrection. 

Scripture is clear that inspiration is necessary to bear witness of the Savior. The Apostle Paul wrote that “No man can say that Jesus is the Lord, but by the Holy Ghost.” Restoration Scripture adds the further insight that “you cannot write that which is sacred save it be given you from me.” Handel’s music, combined with the biblical texts that librettist Charles Jennens selected for the work, bears witness that Jesus is the Lord. I believe the scriptures when they say that “every thing which inviteth to do good, and to persuade to believe in Christ, is sent forth by the power and gift of Christ.” My own faith in and desire to follow the Savior is strengthened whenever I listen to or sing the Messiah. Because the Messiah bears witness of Christ, I conclude that it was inspired by God. 

Some scholars have cast doubt on whether Handel’s  Messiah was divinely inspired because of what is known about the composition process. However, because of its inspired witness of Christ, I believe it would be more fruitful to reframe our idea of what it means for an artist to be inspired rather than rejecting inspiration altogether. A closer look at Handel’s process of composing the Messiah suggests that divine inspiration often draws on previous experience, comes “line upon line,” and may manifest as an enabling power. 

Preparation and Previous Experience

Handel’s  Messiah came at a pivotal point in Handel’s career. Four years earlier, he had been restored to health after a dangerous stroke, defying an initial diagnosis that he would never again play the organ or compose music. But after his stroke, he struggled to find success. Handel’s signature Italian operas were falling out of favor with his British audience. His personal debts were mounting, raising the threat of debtor’s prison and increasing his stress. Considering the pressure that Handel experienced during this time, he likely felt an increased dependence on the Lord. Despite his talents, he may have felt that he needed help from on High. It is possible that such a sense of urgency and “real intent” made it possible for him to receive inspiration. 

Handel had essentially mastered the composition process, including the common 18th-century practice of writing a large quantity of music in a relatively short time. Researcher Calvin Stapert noted that Handel’s pace of 24 days for composition “was more or less typical for Handel.” To Stapert, this meant Handel was not inspired in his composition. Stapert wrote: “Romantic notions notwithstanding, it cannot be taken as a sign of exceptional or, as some have believed, divine inspiration. Like most of the composers of his time, Handel was capable of turning out a prodigious amount of music in a relatively short span of time … He was following his normal work pattern of composing new works in the gap between concert seasons.”

But the fact that the composition timeline was typical for Handel does not mean he was not inspired. Although the rapid composition of the Messiah was typical of Handel, the finished product stands out from the rest of his work for its spiritual qualities. Shortly after composing the Messiah, he wrote another oratorio, Samson, in about the same amount of time. It is worth listening to (I particularly recommend the 2009 BBC Proms performance), but it has nowhere near the same depth and spiritual power as the Messiah. Something was different about the process of composing the Messiah. I believe that divine inspiration entered into Handel’s routine and elevated what he was able to create. Honing his creative process over the years prepared him for his most inspiring and inspired work. 

Handel drew on prior preparation not only in his composition speed, but also in the musical qualities of the Messiah. Since 18th-century composers like Handel needed to produce a great deal of music quickly, they frequently recycled music from their own earlier compositions or borrowed from others. This behavior was culturally acceptable at the time, partly because facility and craftsmanship were prized more than originality, and partly because many people didn’t notice. Recordings weren’t possible, and the idea of a classical repertoire of pieces played on a regular basis didn’t yet exist. (Messiah may actually be the beginning of the classical repertoire, since it is the first piece to be performed regularly year after year.)

Handel was no exception in his borrowing; he borrowed from his own previous work and from that of other composers. In his Messiah, for one example, he drew from a forgotten madrigal he had previously written to write a duet and chorus. He also used ready-made material: the main melody of “And with His Stripes” was used by both Bach and Mozart, leading one researcher to call it “public property.” The same researcher notes that the Pastoral Symphony “is based upon a bagpipe tune played at Christmas by the pifferari of Naples and Rome,” but Handel acknowledged this by his abbreviation pifa at the beginning of the movement. 

While some might argue that Handel’s borrowings rule out the idea of divine inspiration, I suggest they merely change our idea of how inspiration works. Inspiration is not always about receiving completely new ideas. The Savior spoke of the Holy Ghost’s ability to “bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you.” Memory, discovery, and organization are all part of inspiration.

In Handel’s case, it appears that inspiration involved helping him to recall, select, and improve preexisting material. This may actually coincide with the understanding of the Creation process revealed to the prophet Joseph Smith. The Book of Abraham, for instance, redefines the Creation as “organizing” preexisting matter, rather than creating out of nothing. Handel’s recycling of prior works was not a passive copy-and-paste approach; in each case, he elevated the material. This is most clearly seen in the fact that one of the oratorio’s most beloved choruses, “For Unto Us a Child is Born,” is built out of material he had written for a forgotten Italian duet and a madrigal. The final result is not a similarly forgettable work but a masterpiece that offers spiritual nourishment to audiences all over the world. The borrowings and recyclings of prior work that were ordered to testify of the Savior attest to Handel’s inspiration, rather than disproving it. 

Line Upon Line 

Although the initial composition process took twenty-four days, Handel spent a great deal of time revising the Messiah. An editor of one version of the score, Watkins Shaw, notes that “no fewer than 11 movements … were subject to re-shaping or complete recomposition by Handel, some of them more than once, following original composition in 1741 and first performances in 1742.” Another researcher, Robert Manson Myers, notes that Handel “ultimately devoted more time and thought to Messiah than to any other single composition.”

The Messiah did not come all at once, fully formed and unchangeable. It came filtered through a mortal instrument through trial and error. The process accords with what scripture teaches about revelation: “For behold, thus saith the Lord God: I will give unto the children of men line upon line, precept upon precept, here a little and there a little; and blessed are those who hearken unto my precepts, and lend an ear unto my counsel, for they shall learn wisdom⁠; for unto him that receiveth will I give more⁠.” Inspiration and creation do not happen all at once. Handel’s experience shows that the process takes time and progresses gradually. It often includes inspired revision. 

An Enabling Power

Handel’s inspiration process did not shortcut the time and effort necessary for the creative process. Instead, it was a force that lifted and sanctified his efforts. Elder David A. Bednar, a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, has spoken of Christ’s “strengthening and enabling power” that “strengthens us to do things we could never do on our own.” I believe that this divine power played a role for Handel in the process of composing the Messiah. 

For Dr. Nelson, the hand of heaven was not seen in doing something unfamiliar, but in performing work he was experienced in at an extraordinarily effective level. The Messiah occupies a similar place in Handel’s career. He was enabled to create his most accomplished, most beloved work because he set out to bear witness of Jesus Christ. Like Dr. Nelson, Handel gave the glory to God, not only through a chorus that literally sings those words, but by inscribing at the end of the score S.D.G. (Soli Deo Gloria—“To God Alone be the Glory”).

There is a frequently quoted account from a servant of Handel that the composer once said that while working on the “Hallelujah” chorus, “I did think I did see all Heaven before me, and the great God Himself seated on His throne, with His company of Angels.” While we should use caution with source verification, it suggests Handel understood he was under the influence of divine inspiration. Handel’s claim is modest. His language (“I did think I did see”) emphasizes the subjective nature of the spiritual experience he had. That composing the chorus was a spiritual experience is not hard to believe, because listening to and singing it is a spiritual experience. 

Perhaps inspiration, then, served both to enable Handel to create his best artistic work and to inject a powerful moral and spiritual influence into his work, breathing the Spirit into the work that Handel created. It is that Spirit that continues to animate the work and, after nearly three hundred years and despite trends of secularism, continues to move us to stand and sing “Hallelujah, for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth.”

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Imagine you are a first-century Jew at the time of Jesus. You saw the famed Rabbi of Galilee perform miracles. He multiplied food and raised the dead, miracles echoing Elijah and Elisha. You heard him teach doctrines that built upon the law of Moses, but he drew out principles that made the law much more challenging. You saw him ride into Jerusalem on a colt, cleanse the temple, and teach that he was not only the Messiah, but Deity himself. 

And then he was betrayed by his friend and follower, Judas (known in Hebrew as Judah), the namesake of his own people. And rather than take his place on the political throne of Israel, you witnessed this Son of David condemned by Jew and Gentile alike, then tormented, crucified, and placed in a tomb. 

What would you expect next if your only source of reference was the Hebrew Bible? Would you have recognized Jesus of Nazareth in the scriptures you studied? Could you have anticipated from scripture that this self-proclaimed Messiah would miraculously come back to life—forever?

As Easter approaches, perhaps we can feel more charity and empathy for the disciples’ confusion following Christ’s death. Their source of scripture was the Hebrew Bible, which we call the Old Testament. While the Nephites and potentially some ancient Israelites had explicit teachings about the Atonement and Resurrection, the Jews in Jesus’ day faced an open question. 

Despite being longer than the rest of the Latter-day Saint canon combined, the Old Testament has fewer explicit references to “the fundamental principles of our religion”: “the testimony of the apostles and prophets concerning Jesus Christ, ‘that he died [for our sins], was buried, and rose again the third day.”

Yet while the Old Testament speaks less explicitly of Christ, shadows of His Atonement and Resurrection can be found in its pages. Some teachings of Christ may have been intentionally veiled in rituals and prophetic language. But just as the temple veil was rent at Jesus’s death, making clear that the way back to God was through Christ, the Spirit can lift the veil from our understanding, helping us see that the Easter message is implicit in the Old Testament’s pages. 

Why Isn’t the Resurrection Clearly Taught in the Old Testament?

Restoration scripture makes clear what the Old Testament does not: ancient prophets like Adam, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Joseph, Moses, Isaiah, and others knew of Christ’s mission to some degree. This makes the relative absence of discussion about Christ’s suffering, crucifixion, and resurrection in the Old Testament puzzling. As I see it, scripture (particularly the Book of Mormon) provides three potential explanations. 

The first is that revelation occurs gradually: “line upon line, precept upon precept, here a little and there a little.” It may be that knowledge of Christ’s atonement, death, and resurrection was originally sparse, leading to less emphasis in earlier scripture. But our teachings about ancient prophets, if taken literally, are too clear about prophets’ knowledge of Christ’s atonement and resurrection for these doctrines to be considered only seedlings. This must be supplemented by other explanations.

The second possibility is that teachings of a suffering “Anointed One” were rejected, lost, or censored by those who compiled the texts. For example, the Book of Mormon cites Israelite prophets like Zenos, Zenock, and Neum—who aren’t in our canon elsewhere—that taught of Christ’s suffering, crucifixion, and burial. These prophets were stoned and cast out, and perhaps their teachings were likewise discarded.

Nephi also states that the Bible was altered before its international distribution: “they have taken away from the gospel of the Lamb many parts which are plain and most precious.” The editing and authorship history of the Old Testament is complex, and some books could have been crafted by an editor who did not know of or believe in Christ, despite prophets having taught of Him. 

A third possibility is that Old Testament teachings of Christ were veiled to the people by God’s prophets, or even veiled to prophets by God Himself, because of ancient Israel’s spiritual unpreparedness, or for some other divine purpose. Paul spoke of a “veil” that obscures understanding “in the reading of the old testament,” but that this “veil is done away in Christ.” The veiled message Paul speaks of likely came by giving Israel rituals that would resemble Christ’s sacrifice, as well as giving them sacred texts that veiled the mission of Christ or that could point to Him as a secondary, or higher, meaning. The true nature of Christ’s mission could only be gleaned by revelation.

Taken together, these explanations allow us to admit that explicit Old Testament references to Christ are sparse, but that Christ’s mission can still be found through the Spirit’s tutelage. Jesus taught that “the scriptures” of his day—meaning the Old Testament—“are they which testify of me” and commanded his audience to “search” them. With that imperative, I turn now to veiled Easter teachings of Christ found in the Old Testament for those with “eyes to see, and ears to hear.”

Ancient Israelite Prophecy of Christ’s Sacrifice

Abinadi, teaching about the Messiah’s divinity, condescension, atonement, and resurrection, claimed that “all the prophets who have prophesied ever since the world began [have] spoken more or less concerning these things.” Perhaps some of this teaching was censored, but much of it may have been inspired thematic and narrative parallels in scripture that constituted “more or less” a prophecy. As Nephi said, “all things which have been given of God from the beginning of the world, unto man, are the typifying of him,” including parallels in sacred history, poetry, and even prophecies with other primary meanings. Jacob added a second witness that the Israelite scriptures “truly testify of Christ” and “that none of the prophets have written, nor prophesied, save they have spoken concerning this Christ.”

Christ’s atoning sacrifice in Gethsemane and on the cross at Calvary is mirrored in some Old Testament narratives. In the Akedah, God commands Abraham to bind and then offer a burnt sacrifice of “thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest.” This excruciating story, rife with philosophical complexity, does not thoroughly explain itself, but Jacob saw it as typifying Heavenly Father’s offering of His Only Begotten Son for our sins. In further parallels to Christ, Isaac rode a donkey to Mount Moriah, just as Christ rode a donkey for his triumphal entry to Jerusalem, and Isaac carried the wood for the sacrifice to its site, just as Christ carried a wooden cross to Golgotha. When Isaac asked his father where the offering was, Abraham replied, “God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering.” Isaac was miraculously delivered, and a ram in the thicket was provided as a substitute, symbolizing how the Lamb of God would ultimately sacrifice in our place. 

In another example reminiscent of the crucifixion and resurrection, Moses is commanded to raise up a brass “serpent and set it upon a pole” for the Israelites to look upon for healing from fatal snake bites. As with the story of the Akedah, the Christian significance of the story is never explained in the Old Testament, but Christ Himself and Book of Mormon prophets interpret it as a veiled symbol of Jesus raised upon a cross to save us by having the faith to look to Him. 

Beyond narrative mirroring, Christ’s mission seems to be directly or indirectly described in isolated phrases and references. New Testament authors like Matthew felt comfortable declaring that Old Testament passages were “fulfilled” when they provided an inspired parallel, even if the context of the passage doesn’t indicate at all that it is messianic prophecy. I argue that we can generally feel comfortable accepting these parallels as well if we acknowledge that there might be a different primary meaning. 

Language echoing Christ’s betrayal and crucifixion is also scattered across the Psalms and connects Christ to his royal ancestor David. The Psalmist(s) describes betrayal by a “familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my bread”; being despised, mocked, and taunted about how “He trusted on the Lord that he would deliver him”; being surrounded by “the wicked,” after which “they pierced my hands and my feet”; being given “vinegar to drink”; crying “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”; having his clothing divided among a crowd; and being “poured out like water.” The context of some of these psalms suggests that the entire psalms were not necessarily messianic prophecy, yet Gospel authors understood them as being strongly implicated, and Psalm 22 in particular bears stunningly similar parallels.

Finally, there were prophets whose writings could be fairly classified as more direct prophecies of Christ’s sacrifice, most notably Isaiah. In particular, two of Isaiah’s four “Servant Songs” testify strongly of Christ, even if they applied to multiple people (the unnamed servant has variously been understood to be Jesus, Israel, Isaiah, Cyrus, and others). One of the Songs speaks of an unnamed servant who listened to God without rebelling, who gave his “back to the smiters,” and who did not hide his face “from shame and spitting.”

Isaiah’s fourth Servant Song, even though contested in interpretation, is by far the most reminiscent passage in the Old Testament of Christ’s atonement. It describes a lowly “servant” of God with “marred” appearance who has “no form nor comeliness [and] no beauty that we should desire him,” and who is “despised and rejected of man; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.” Although many prophets have been unpopular, the affliction this servant bears is for our griefs, our sorrows, our transgressions, and “the iniquity of us all.” The servant is given as an atoning “offering for sin” by which he will “justify many” and make “intercession for the transgressors.” In so doing he was “cut off out of the land of the living,” “made his grave with the wicked,” and “poured out his soul unto death.” And despite his death, he will be “exalted and extolled, and be very high,” will “prolong his days,” will “see his seed,” and will be divided “a portion with the great [and] spoil with the strong.” Even if there were other applications of this prophecy, it testifies beautifully of Christ’s mission and is perhaps the rarest gem of prophecy of Christ in the Old Testament.

Sacrifice 

In addition to prophecies,  the Old Testament practice of sacrifice foreshadows Christ’s sacrifice for us all. 

The Old Testament speaks openly of a victorious, reigning Messiah, but says little of a Messiah who suffers for sins. But that changes if we learn to see ancient animal sacrifice as a shadow of “that great and last sacrifice” that would satisfy the demands of justice for our sins. 

Though animal sacrifice is as old as Adam, the books of Moses codified its intricacies. With five distinct offerings—burnt offerings, peace (well-being) offerings, sin offerings, trespass offerings, and meat (grain) offerings—the Mosaic rules for sacrifice were complex. The sacrifices had mixed and overlapping purposes: atonement or expiation of sin, removal of ritual impurity, gratitude, memorial, obedience, or petition for deliverance. Animals of both genders and even non-animals were used for many offerings, but all offerings were food items, often with symbolically pleasing smells. Sometimes the offeror ate the sacrifice, other times the priests ate it, and burnt offerings were simply burnt for God.

Some special sacrifices were associated with holy days, such as the Day of Atonement or Passover, and some were performed on behalf of all of God’s people. The Passover sacrifice, in particular, involved the slaughter of a male lamb, whose blood saved the firstborn sons of Israel. And whatever other sacrifices were given, all firstborn animals were to be given to the Lord. 

We can see how these many purposes of sacrifice map onto Christ’s atonement and our own personal sacrifices. We see similarities to Christ describing himself as food and drink that must be ritually consumed by others. We especially connect the image of a male lamb of Passover to the Christian message because scripture calls Jesus the Lamb of God. In general, though, the Christian meaning of these sacrifices was hidden at the time. It is not clear from Leviticus that the Israelites were anticipating a final sacrifice. Leviticus merely taught the underlying principle that blood represents the sacredness of life, and “it is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul.” 

As we take the sacrament this Easter season, we symbolically consume Christ’s body—just as Israelites did with animal sacrifice—and are divinely fed. We also promise to give up our sins. As the late Elder Neal A. Maxwell taught, “Real, personal sacrifice never was placing an animal on the altar. Instead, it is a willingness to put the animal in us upon the altar and letting it be consumed.” We can also follow Christ’s example and the other purposes of sacrifice in sacrificing our own time and wills, obeying God, expressing gratitude, asking God for what we need, and being “an odour of a sweet smell, a sacrifice acceptable, wellpleasing to God.” 

The Law of Moses

In addition to its sacrifice requirements, the Law of Moses foreshadowed Christ, who later declared not only that he fulfilled the law but that “I am the law.” As the Book of Hebrews teaches, “the law [of Moses] ha[s] a shadow of good things to come, and not the very image of the things.” The law seemed to require revelation to see Christ shadowed in it. Abinadi and Benjamin both taught that the Israelites “did not all understand the law,” not because of low intellect, but because they “hardened their hearts.” This was certainly true of Sherem, who claimed Jacob was wrongly “converting” the law of Moses into worship of Christ. 

Nephite prophets saw Mosaic Law as creating a typological framework for an ultimate self-sacrifice to atone for all sins. Nephi taught that “for this end hath the law of Moses been given”: “proving unto my people the truth of the coming of Christ.” Abinadi taught that it was “a shadow of those things which are to come.” Amulek testified that “the whole meaning of the law, every whit” was to point to “that great and last sacrifice” of “the Son of God, yea, infinite and eternal.” We, too, can acknowledge the complexity of the Law of Moses while affirming that it served as a type and shadow of Christ’s atonement to ancient Israelites.

The Old Testament and Resurrection

As for its teachings about the resurrection specifically, the Old Testament shows a plurality of views about the afterlife. Resurrection isn’t clearly taught in many of its books, especially the earlier ones. Jews in the days of Jesus were divided on whether it occurred. Pharisees, who accepted the later prophetic texts, believed in resurrection; Sadducees, who held only to the older books of Moses, did not. Zoramites like Zeezrom and Antionah, who demonstrate knowledge of the early Hebrew Bible books, are also puzzled by references to the resurrection. 

The Book of Daniel declares that “many of them that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt.” But that book falls relatively late in the Old Testament, and the clarity of the doctrine is obscured as we move back in time—perhaps another veiled or censored teaching. Though there is some uncertainty about what he meant, Isaiah prophesied that our God “will swallow up death in victory; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces;” and “O Lord. . . Thy dead men shall live, together with my dead body [or “together their bodies”] shall they arise.”

Other than these passages, there are a few resurrection passages that are debated but possibly veiled or which might have a secondary meaning. Ezekiel prophesied that a valley of dry bones will come to life as normal people, primarily as a metaphor for the restoration of Israel, but perhaps also suggesting the possibility of resurrection. The Hebrew grammar is jumbled, but Job seems to say, with words not in Hebrew italicized, “though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet [from] my flesh shall I see God.” 

With these powerful images of resurrection available to him, Jesus, surprisingly, does not cite Daniel, Ezekiel, or Job when prophesying of his own resurrection. Instead, Jesus sees the most relevance in the story of Jonah (or Jonas in Greek): “For as Jonas was three days and three nights in the whale’s belly; so shall the Son of man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth.”  We don’t instinctively think of Jonah being swallowed by a “great fish” as death, but Jonah’s prayer from inside the fish uses the language of death: “out of the belly of hell [Sheol] cried I, and thou heardest my voice.” He stayed there for three days before his deliverance.

Perhaps more importantly, God is the one who breathes life into humanity, and he saves Israel from death and bondage repeatedly. The Exodus is just one beautiful example of God delivering his people from bondage—a frequent metaphor for death in scripture. And God shows himself in the Old Testament to be a God of miracles. The same omnipotence that would allow God to part the Red Sea, stop the sun in the sky, shake the earth, obliterate cities, turn back armies, bring springs to life, and deliver his people is the same power required to perform the most stunning of all miracles: to raise from the dead.  

Christ is the Meaning

Finding Christ in the Old Testament happens the same way we develop a testimony of Christ in the first place. Nephi tells us that a key to understanding Isaiah, for example, is the “spirit of prophecy”—that is, the “testimony of Jesus” obtained by revelation. If we encounter Christ’s character in the course of our study, we have found him in the text. Peter, who recognized Christ as the promised Messiah, told Jesus, “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God,” not because it was a logical imperative in scripture, but because our “Father which is in heaven” had “revealed it unto [him].” The Lord’s counsel for studying the Apocrypha also applies to the Old Testament: “whoso is enlightened by the Spirit shall obtain benefit therefrom; And whoso receiveth not by the Spirit, cannot be benefited.” 

Christ is indeed “in all things, and is through all things, and is round about all things.” Like the first-century Jews who needed the Spirit to understand Christ in their scripture, we, too, can seek the Spirit’s help in unveiling Christ in every part of our lives, however hidden He may seem. As we search the scriptures and apply “our hearts to understanding,” we can come to see what Jesus taught His apostles: that the Old Testament scriptures “are they which testify of me.”

As Christ “yielded up the ghost” on Calvary, “the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom,” a symbol of overcoming the barriers to God’s presence under the old covenant. As the Book of Hebrews teaches, we can now “enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus . . . through the veil, that is to say, his flesh.” Just as the veil in the temple symbolized Christ’s broken body, the veil of the Old Testament is also rent by Christ Himself through revelation. 

Perhaps we can now better understand, with the scarcity of explicit references to Christ’s suffering, death, and resurrection, how confused Christ’s disciples must have been immediately after his death. For those on the road to Emmaus, this confusion was dispelled when Jesus, “beginning at Moses and all the prophets . . . expounded unto them in all the scriptures the things concerning himself,” and why he “ought . . . to have suffered these things, and to enter into his glory.” He was the veiled meaning all along.

The post Unveiling Christ this Easter appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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There’s a kind of disappointment that doesn’t arrive as tragedy. It arrives as delay: the diagnosis that lingers, the job search that won’t resolve, the prayer that feels like it hits a ceiling. You keep doing the next right thing—and nothing budges.

“Are you having a 3½ Moment?” It sounds baffling—until you are in one.

A 3½ Moment is my name for a familiar stretch of discipleship when life feels stalled: you’re doing what you know is right, but the relief doesn’t come. The problem lingers, and hope starts to feel naïve. 

In scripture, God often teaches through symbols. As Elder Orson F. Whitney, an early apostle in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, observed, “God teaches with symbols; it is his favorite method of teaching.” 

One of the Bible’s most familiar symbols is 7—wholeness and completion. But a lesser-known number appears in stories of drought, scattering, and delayed rescue: 3½, half of seven. It often functions as a literary signal that deliverance is delayed—but the delay has a limit. Here’s what that pattern can teach us about our hardest chapters, and four ways to keep faith until God brings your “7.”

Seven: Scripture’s Symbol of Completion

The Bible trains us to notice the symbol 7. God created the heavens and earth in six days, and “he rested on the seventh day” (Genesis 2:2). The number 7 appears throughout the Bible as one of the most common symbols in scripture.

In scripture, the number 7 often refers to wholeness, completion, and perfection. The symbol 7 teaches us to trust that God’s promises will be fulfilled. It also reminds us to obey to completion. Naaman’s story makes the point almost painfully: the sixth dip looks indistinguishable from the seventh. Partial obedience can look reasonable—until the miracle arrives one step later. Joshua’s armies would have suffered complete defeat had they circled Jericho for six days before battle. Seven often appears as a symbol for completing a work.

Three and a Half: When Deliverance is Delayed

In Daniel and Revelation, we see these 3½ measures show up in apocalyptic settings—visions of oppression, exile, and persecution. They mark a period that is real and painful, but also limited: evil is permitted a season, then God intervenes. That 3½ symbol can also have personal meaning to us as a metaphor for our discipleship—what it feels like to live inside a promised ending that hasn’t arrived yet.

Note that recognizing the symbolic meaning of numbers in scriptures is safe spiritual territory, as opposed to the speculative and tangential work of occult numerology. One caution: apocalyptic numbers are rarely a stopwatch for predicting outcomes, and they aren’t a guarantee that God will resolve a specific hardship on our preferred schedule. Their gift is different: they insist that evil and suffering are not ultimate, and that God sets limits we cannot always see from inside the storm. 

The symbol 3½ is often expressed in different but equivalent forms: 3½ years; 42 months; 1,260 days; “a time, times, and half a time”; or three and a half days. Revelation uses these equivalent measures to describe a bounded period of tribulation for God’s people—long enough to be terrifying, short enough to be survivable because God remains sovereign.

The number 3½ is half of 7. That gives us a clue as to its meaning. Read alongside seven (completion), 3½ can be heard as the ‘incomplete’ half, an unfinished story. The texts are speaking first about communal suffering and divine deliverance; I’m using their repeated timeframe as a devotional lens for individual seasons that feel unfinished.

On a personal level, 3½ reminds us that we live in a fallen world, with seasons of opposition and adversity, which will resolve because of 7. For some, that glorious conclusion may arrive beyond mortality; the certainty of “7” rests in Christ’s Resurrection even when present circumstances do not change. But that promise assures that for even the most stubborn problems of mortality, an amazing conclusion is promised.

When Life Feels Stuck at 3½

Symbolically, 3½ can represent our own hard times and challenges, but it carries the understanding that all things can be perfected and brought to a resolution by Jesus Christ. The symbol 3½ teaches us to have divine hope in the eventual 7, to complete our work of keeping God’s commandments (D&C 11:20) and to joyfully look forward to God completing His work (Moses 1:39).

In hard times, it may feel as though the gospel plan isn’t working for us because we don’t appear to be succeeding in ways that we expect. These are moments when cynicism feels most plausible, and most costly. Many hard times can feel like a 3½ Moment, but a 3½ Moment is not the end of the story. It is only half of seven, a limited period of adversity before divine deliverance. Because 3½ is connected to 7, we have the assurance that our suffering and problems are temporary, as we look to Jesus Christ.

President Russell M. Nelson, the late president of The Church of Jesus Christ, once described the discipline this way: “Our focus must be riveted on the Savior and His gospel. It is mentally rigorous to strive to look unto Him in every thought. But, when we do, our doubts and fears flee.” 

To have its intended meaning, the symbol of 3½ must be connected to the symbol of 7. Similarly, to fulfill its intended purposes, we benefit when we connect our hard times to Jesus Christ.

In my own prayers, I’ve learned to ask for something simpler than an explanation: a sentence I can live on. “I can’t see the end yet. Help me be faithful in the middle. Help me take the next step.”

Wendell’s 3½ Moment

Wendell Jones and I previously served together in a bishopric, a congregation’s leadership. In 2022, Wendell was diagnosed with ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig’s disease.

ALS is a progressive neurodegenerative disorder that affects nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord. The disease has taken things from him in stages, but it hasn’t taken his posture toward life.

As he navigates this period, Wendell has a deep knowledge and testimony of the gospel plan that helps him maintain an eternal perspective about his life and his illness.

After his diagnosis, he logged miles on a two-wheeled bike to keep his strength. When that became unsafe, he switched to three wheels. Now he rides in a car—often in the passenger seat—so he can talk while someone else drives. It’s a small parable of discipleship: when one way of moving forward closes, you learn another.

My wife recently asked Wendell, “You are always so happy; how do you do it?” Wendell’s response was direct: “How could I not, when I think of everything that Jesus has done for me?”

Wendell has spent his adult life serving his parents and his large posterity. Now, in this season of life, he humbly allows them to serve him.

What Suffering Makes of Us

Alma 62:41 demonstrates the principle that the same difficulties will result in different outcomes. The Nephites had just finished a decade of war, witnessing and experiencing horrific atrocities. The Book of Mormon records that “because of the exceedingly great length of the war… many had become hardened… [and] many were softened because of their afflictions.” The same set of experiences led to opposite spiritual outcomes. What matters most in life is not the adversity faced, but the response.

There is nothing neutral with adversity. Adversity changes us, for better or worse.

Yet when hard times come, we may think:

• “What have I done to deserve this?”
• “Why is this happening to me, when I’m trying so hard to be good?”
• “Why is this problem lingering so long?”

The book of Alma teaches that “whosoever shall put their trust in God shall be supported in their trials, and their troubles, and their afflictions, and shall be lifted up at the last day” (Alma 36:3).

Expect Friction

How can difficult problems be a catalyst to make us better, not bitter? How can adversity become a 3½ Moment that is a stepping stone toward our 7, which is eternal life? I observed four practices in the example of Wendell, and in my own life. 

Author Dennis Wholey wrote, as shared by President Jeffrey R. Holland, then a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles: “Expecting a trouble-free life because you are a good person is like expecting the bull not to charge you because you are a vegetarian.”

Even Jesus was made “perfect through sufferings” (Hebrews 2:10). Trials are not evidence that the plan is failing; often they are evidence that God’s plan for us is working.

Practice Gratitude Without Denial

I share a principle that has been meaningful to me. I’ve come to think of it as a kind of “eternal unfairness” principle. Each of us will be resurrected and can receive an immortal body, a gift made possible by the Atonement of Christ. We didn’t earn that. 

Jesus Christ bled “from every pore” (Mosiah 3:7; D&C 19:18) and suffered infinitely, so we have the gift of repentance and receive a remission of our sins. We didn’t earn that.

In Latter-day Saint belief, Jesus Christ, through the ordinances provided in temples, blesses us with eternal life and eternal families—an incomprehensible gift made possible as we receive the Atonement of Christ by making and keeping covenants. We didn’t earn that.

In things that matter most, remember: The deck is stacked—not against us, but in our favor! Life is truly “unfair” because of Jesus Christ. Aren’t we so grateful for it?

Let Trust Be Active

Elder Richard G. Scott, then a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, taught, “This life is an experience in profound trust—trust in Jesus Christ, trust in His teachings… To trust means to obey willingly without knowing the end from the beginning.” Trials can help us increase our trust in God: that He “shall consecrate thine afflictions for thy gain” (2 Nephi 2:2), and that “He doeth not anything save it be for the benefit of the world” (2 Nephi 26:24).

Instead of asking, “Why is this happening to me?” we can ask, “Why is this happening for me?” What am I to learn? How can this problem help me increase my faith and trust in Jesus Christ? Nelson taught that we can “receive more faith by doing something that requires more faith.”

Turn Outward

Jesus taught by example that in times of adversity we should look outward and serve others. While on the cross, in His deepest agony and suffering, we see Jesus—astonishingly—arranging for the care of His mother:

“When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, Woman, behold thy son. Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy mother” (John 19:26–27).

In times of adversity, our natural inclination is to focus inward. Instead, Jesus invites us to look outward to others, especially when we are experiencing personal challenges. This is a gospel paradox: “He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it” (Matthew 10:39). Elder David A. Bednar, also an apostle in The Church of Jesus Christ, taught, “Character is demonstrated by looking and reaching outward when the natural and instinctive response is to be self-absorbed and turn inward.”

When those inevitable hard times come, we have a choice: we can be frustrated, grit our teeth, and suffer through it. Or we can see this problem that we would never choose as an opportunity. Your 3½ Moment does not define you, but it can refine you. Healing will come. All problems can be temporary on an eternal scale, as we strive to follow Jesus Christ. When you are in that 3½ Moment, remember: 7 is coming.

The post Your Hardest Season Might Be Exactly Half a Miracle appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Humility is not humiliation; it’s the start to something better.

What “The Day Of The Ashes” Meant

The gesture sprang from Scripture’s grammar of contrition—Daniel turning “with fasting, and sackcloth, and ashes” (Daniel 9:3), Job repenting “in dust and ashes” (Job 42:6), Nineveh in sackcloth (Jonah 3). Dust was catechesis.

The Restoration’s Witness: Dust, Nothingness, Promise

If medieval Christians called us dust, Restoration scripture continues the theme—and then refuses to leave us there. King Benjamin commands disciples to “remember… the greatness of God, and your own nothingness” so they can learn to “always retain in remembrance” His goodness (Mosiah 4:11–12). Alma is blunter: “I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak” (Alma 26:12). And Helaman’s lament is bracing: “How great is the nothingness of the children of men; yea, even they are less than the dust of the earth” (Helaman 12:7–8).

A culture of self-aggrandizement will die on this hill. If our worth is measured by output, status, or visibility, then admitting “nothingness” sounds like defeat. Yet discipleship begins where self‑justification ends. Humility is consent to be loved—and changed.

The Orthodox Beginning: Clean Monday

Eastern Christians start Great Lent on Clean Monday, a different tradition to enter the same period of the year. It is the first step of fasting, confession, and household “cleansing”—a positive, springlike beginning that pairs sobriety with joy. The day frames repentance not as dour exhibition but as purification, a clearing to make room for grace.

While these traditions have developed different practices, they both intuitively understand that to begin the season that ends with the glorious resurrection, we should start with humility. 

A Latter‑day Saint On‑Ramp To Easter

Modern life trains us to curate an image of greatness. The Book of Mormon’s anthropology is corrective: remember God’s greatness and our dependence, and remember covenant possibility (Mosiah 4:11–12). Moses felt it—“man is nothing”—and then saw God’s work unfold through him (Moses 1:10, 39). In other words, recognizing our nothingness is not an insult; it’s permission to be redeemed. And refusing to recognize it can prevent our redemption.

Members of The Church of Jesus Christ celebrate Easter with worship and witness but have not historically observed Ash Wednesday or Lent as formal religious seasons. 

As we seek to apply Elder Stevenson’s counsel, we don’t need to import another church’s liturgical calendar, but we would be wise to recognize the accumulated wisdom in the way they’ve chosen to celebrate the season. 

So how might Latter‑day Saint families launch an Easter season, starting from the ground, in humility?

Choose a starting day. You might key it to the first Monday several weeks before Easter (a nod to “clean” beginnings) or to a family fast day. Mark the start in family council: “Today we begin our walk to Easter.” Small, simple, said out loud.

Name the truth. Read together Moses 1:10; Mosiah 4:11; Helaman 12:7–8. Let each person finish the sentence: “Because I am dust, I will…” (serve, forgive, listen). Keep it under five minutes; keep it tender.

Consider the Metaphor. Perhaps the timing of planting in much of the northern hemisphere can give you or your family a reason to get into the dirt and dust. This could allow you to connect to the lowliness metaphor in a unique way.

Fast to make room. Perhaps make a special effort to fast on the first Sunday in March, or add an additional fast on the Sunday before or after the traditional Ash Wendesday day as a way of starting the season in humility. 

Prime the house. Borrow a line from Clean Monday: do some literal cleaning, donate gently used items, and clear a shelf for an “Easter table.” If you’re going to do spring cleaning anyway, why not find a way to connect it to the start of an Easter spiritual celebration?

Read the story. Last year, Public Square Magazine published “40 Days to Easter,” a set of readings that covered the life of Jesus Christ. This calendar or similar scripture reading traditions can begin as part of a countdown to Easter. 

We are in an exciting season. Medieval Christians were 600 years into their tradition before Ash Wednesday began to develop. Latter-day Saints are still shy of 200, and so we are purposefully considering ways to expand our traditions and point our lives toward Jesus Christ. As we consider how to celebrate the season, we should be thoughtful about what our unique faith brings, and continue to remain in conversation with our fellow Christians and the ways they have found to celebrate.

The post A Latter-day Saint Prelude to Easter appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

For decades, African American leaders and scholars have echoed Proverbs 17:22 that “a merry heart doeth good like a medicine.” Consider W.E.B. Du Bois, the first African American to earn a Ph.D. from Harvard and cofounder of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, who famously said, “I am especially glad of the divine gift of laughter: it has made the world human and lovable, despite all its pain and wrong.” Civil Rights hero Martin Luther King, Jr. is often quoted as having said, “It is cheerful to God when you rejoice or laugh from the bottom of your heart.” Indeed, African Americans have long used humor to cope with the ills of slavery and the unfairness of discriminatory practices. Research suggests that humor can fortify racial identity and cultivate optimism, hope, and resilience among Black Americans. Yet, humor seems to contribute even more than this.

We interviewed 46 Black married couples, nominated by their clergy as exemplary. Our American Families of Faith research team found that positive humor contributes to strong marriages and families in vital ways. In this article, we highlight three types of humor featured in exemplary Black families. 

Humor in Coping with Racism

Using humor to cope with racism (and other forms of stress) was common among the exemplary Black families we interviewed. Dean, a Catholic husband, said: 

Blatant racism happens to this day. We talk about it with each other. We use humor as a way to deal with it, as a coping mechanism. You can either cry or laugh. We know who we are, what we are, and Whose we are … [God’s].

Gwen, a quick‑witted and candid wife, explained with a twinkle in her eye how she turned the hurt of racism over to God and trusted that justice would someday be fulfilled. Glimpses of her humorous attitude were apparent:

[The] bottom line was we both knew that [changing the heart of a certain person at my work] was a job for God. … I just said to the Lord, “You just need to help me with this, because this person has a problem.” … So, I think the Lord just … whooped them up a little bit and then kicked them out! (Laughter) So, it was just one of those things where, yes, you will encounter [racism], and I know I will, until Jesus comes and gets me out of here. But … I can’t become bitter about it … because God is not going to put up with that. So, if they want to spend eternity in hell burning … because they won’t accept me, because my color is a little different than theirs, then that’s their problem. So, I have to just rest in the Lord on that one. 

Joelle, a Christian wife, also discussed racism:

To me, it’s not personal, it’s their ignorance. I have never doubted who I am or how important I am and how much I deserve to be on this earth. See, they’re wrong for misunderstanding, and I really believe that God loves me the most. (Laughter) 

Humor was a coping device for racism and other pain points, but humor was also used as a positive lever for navigating and strengthening the marriage relationship.

Humor in Marriage

After being prompted for advice they would give to other African American couples, Amber and Duane both talked about the importance of humor. Amber listed four tips for a successful marriage: communicate, be equally yoked, forgive, and keep a sense of humor. Duane concurred, that a “good sense of humor [is important] … for it to be a good marriage.”

Many participant couples shared humor-laced stories that highlighted how they used laughter to help their marriages flourish. Gwen said,

[I]f there’s something [a wife] needs to say to [her husband], … she should do so when things are calm. … Perhaps it’s a screen door that’s quite annoying because all he has to do is just repair it quickly with the screwdriver, something which she doesn’t know [how to do], and she tells him the first time about it, and he doesn’t do anything. Then, any other time she thinks about it, she needs to tell God, because God will whoop him up. (Laughter) … God can let him have it.

An African Methodist wife from Massachusetts named Joann said:

[L]et me just deal with God and wait for Him to change Gary over to my point of view, which is the correct point of view. …[B]ut usually when I’m waiting for God to change Gary, then [God] will be changing me! [God is] sneaky.  

Annie and her husband Al shared how humor and having fun were crucial to their marriage. 

Annie: You have to … make a decision to love and have fun. See, I was determined that this house was going to have some fun and that we were going to laugh and … be happy. Not only was I going to be happy, but we were going to be happy. Everyone was going to be happy. At the beginning, I had to [help] make Al be happy. ‘Cause you weren’t used to being happy. [Don’t] you think, [Al]?

Al: [No]. That’s why I married you. … I consciously made a decision [that] she’s going to bring joy into my life. [I decided], I can’t let her get away.

Al and Annie shared the following moment elsewhere during their interview:

Al: This woman is strong, resolute, focused … .  [S]piritually [and] physically, she’s been there. She’s been there. A great comfort. A great thing for a marriage.

Annie: Like old shoes. (Laughter)  

Al: [No], like a mighty mountain. A towering edifice —  a little … more grandiose than an old shoe. [To the interviewer:  [It ain’t all been] fairy-tale perfect, but we got 30 years in, … [and we’re] still smiling about it.”

Annie: [We are] still laughing, [and I am] still laughing at him. He cracks [me] up!

Several couples also shared warm sentiments while teasing each other. Joann, an African Methodist, described how their marriage has gotten better as time has gone on: “Things change; we are not the same people that we were when we were married. … [Actually], I think he’s gotten a lot better. [Thank heaven] (Laughter).” In like manner, Jefferson, a Christian husband from Louisiana shared, “We are each other’s friends. And, believe me, she advise[s] me every day, whether I want it or not. (Laughter)” Our participant couples repeatedly noted that they found joy in playfully teasing and sharing laughter with those they love. This reportedly held true in parenting as well as in marriage. 

Humor in Parenting

The use of humor among participants was not confined to the marriage relationship; many families also showed humor in their interactions with their children. Jefferson, a Christian father from Louisiana, shared the following story of his responsibilities as a father: 

We had three girls [in a row and] after we decided to have another child, I told my wife, “If this child is a boy, you don’t have anything to worry about. … I’ll do the … midnight feeding and change and wash the diapers.” Back then, we had cloth diapers. And sure enough, along came Shaun, and I had forgotten that I had made this promise. … But believe me, [Sierra] didn’t! She said, “‘Your baby is crying in there … . It’s time to feed [him] and change the diapers!”’ 

Jason, a Baptist father from Georgia, was asked if his children had influenced his religious involvement, he joked, “Some of them keep us on our knees (laughter)!”

Joann and Gary, who were also interviewed with their teenage daughter, Jasmine, shared a humorous moment when Gary discussed how his religious views and parenting were entwined:

Gary: [There] will be times when we’ll have a blow [up], and Jasmine will come up later and just say, ‘I’m sorry, Dad.’ And, probably not as often as I should, I’ll go down and tell her, ‘Yeah, I blew it.’ But … I always believe that God has created a wonderful child, and He may not yell at her, so He wants me to.

Jasmine (daughter): Yeah, right!

Joann (wife): I don’t think that’s in the Bible (Laughter).

Jasmine: No, that’s the “Gary” Revised Version.

Humor in Religion

Many families conveyed that parenting, humor, and (often) religion worked together for a healthy family life. Jason said: 

I believe Romans 8:28: “All things work together for good for those who love God and are called according to his purpose.” … Then, I’ve got to see that there is some good in this stress. So, I try to find the good in it, and [I ask], “Okay God, what are you trying to tell me in this?” More often than not, the simple message is, “You forgot, and you needed to be reminded.” [And I say], “‘Well, Lord, couldn’t you have been a little more subtle?”’ 

Joelle explained that she prayed about everything, even picking good oranges at the grocery store. She shared: 

My mother-in-law, before she passed, she used to laugh at me and say, “You know why God answers your prayers [so fast]? Just so he can have a moment of silence. Because you pray about everything!” (Laughter) 

James, whose beloved wife Betsy was struck by a drunk driver and was in a coma for several weeks, was able to express humor in the face of life’s pain. After the accident, Betsy “flatlined” and was resuscitated 13 times. Following this ordeal, which ended in Betsy’s miraculous improvement that eventually allowed her to return home in James’ care, he said, “At least I know my wife ain’t no cat, because a cat only has nine lives.” For nearly 19 years since the accident, James has provided full-service care for Betsy, who lost both of her legs in the accident. For James, humor and an indomitable will and faith have lifted heavy loads that self-pity could not budge.

We conclude with a report that seems to capture the ebullience, the faith, the passion, and the shared joy of life amongst our interviewees. Destiny, a Christian wife from Oregon, served up this gem eliciting explosive laughter and delight from her husband:

He is my lover and he’s an awesome lover. [Laughter] … And our children, we always said to them … “If you want to know what’s going on [in our bedroom], Mama and Daddy are just keeping Jesus happy.”

Bonding Humor as Healing Medicine

To date, our American Families of Faith research team has identified and published studies on numerous strengths in the exemplary Black families we have interviewed including faith, prayer, unity, egalitarianism, and serving others. The present study adds positive humor or “bonding humor” to the list. Some forms of humor (e.g., profane humor, ill-intentioned sarcasm) are explicitly incongruent with many religious beliefs and principles, but the exemplary couples who taught us present evidence that religion and positive humor can both play important and vital roles in building strong marriages and families. Hearkening back to Proverbs, these strong Black families echoed the value of that healing medicine to address life’s challenges in their words and lived experiences. Their examples offer much to contemplate.

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There’s a kind of disappointment that doesn’t arrive as tragedy. It arrives as delay: the diagnosis that lingers, the job search that won’t resolve, the prayer that feels like it hits a ceiling. You keep doing the next right thing—and nothing budges.

“Are you having a 3½ Moment?” It sounds baffling—until you’ve lived one.

A 3½ Moment is my name for a familiar stretch of discipleship when life feels stalled: you’re doing what you know is right, but the relief doesn’t come. The problem lingers, and hope starts to feel naïve. 

In scripture, God often teaches through symbols. As Elder Orson F. Whitney, an apostle early in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints observed, “God teaches with symbols; it is his favorite method of teaching.” 

One of the Bible’s most familiar symbols is 7—wholeness and completion. But a lesser-known number appears again and again in stories of drought, scattering, and delayed rescue: 3½, half of seven. It often functions as a literary signal that deliverance is delayed—but the delay has a limit. Here’s what that pattern can teach us about our hardest chapters, and four ways to keep faith until God brings your “7.”

Seven: Scripture’s Symbol of Completion

The Bible trains us to notice the symbol 7. God created the heavens and earth in six days, and “he rested on the seventh day” (Genesis 2:2). The number 7 appears throughout the Bible as one of the most common symbols in scripture.

Three and a Half: When Deliverance is Delayed

In Daniel and Revelation, these 3½ measures show up in apocalyptic settings—visions of oppression, exile, and persecution. They mark a period that is real and painful, but also limited: evil is permitted a season, then God intervenes. That symbol can also have personal meaning to us as a metaphor for our discipleship—what it feels like to live inside a promised ending that hasn’t arrived yet.

During the time of Elijah, “the heaven was shut up three years and six months, when great famine was throughout all the land” (Luke 4:25). 1 Kings 17–18 contains the story of the drought and famine, the widow of Zarephath and her son, and the eventual rain that ended the drought. The drought was ended only when Elijah’s servant followed his command to climb Mount Carmel and look toward the sea “seven times,” connecting the symbols 3½ and 7 together (1 Kings 18:43).

Note that recognizing the symbolic meaning of numbers in scriptures is safe spiritual territory, as opposed to the speculative and tangential work of occult numerology. One caution: apocalyptic numbers are rarely a stopwatch for predicting outcomes, and they aren’t a guarantee that God will resolve a specific hardship on our preferred schedule. Their gift is different: they insist that evil and suffering are not ultimate, and that God sets limits we cannot always see from inside the storm. 

The symbol 3½ is often expressed in different but equivalent forms: 3½ years; 42 months; 1,260 days; “a time, times, and half a time”; or three and a half days. Revelation uses these equivalent measures to describe a bounded period of tribulation for God’s people—long enough to be terrifying, short enough to be survivable because God remains sovereign.

The number 3½ is half of 7. That gives us a clue as to its meaning. Read alongside seven (completion), 3½ can be heard as the ‘incomplete’ half, an unfinished story. The texts are speaking first about communal suffering and divine deliverance; I’m using their repeated timeframe as a devotional lens for individual seasons that feel unfinished.

On a personal level, 3½ reminds us that we live in a fallen world, with seasons of opposition and adversity, which will resolve because of 7. For a few, that glorious conclusion may arrive beyond mortality; the certainty of ‘7’ rests in Christ’s Resurrection even when present circumstances do not change. But that promise assures that for even the most stubborn problems of mortality, a conclusion is promised.

When Life Feels Stuck at 3½

Symbolically, 3½ can represent our own hard times and challenges, but it carries the understanding that all things can be perfected and brought to a glorious conclusion by Jesus Christ. The symbol 3½ teaches us to have divine hope in the eventual 7, to complete our work of keeping God’s commandments (D&C 11:20) and to joyfully look forward to salvation and exaltation (Moses 1:39).

In hard times, it may feel as though the gospel plan isn’t working for us because we don’t appear to be succeeding in ways that we expect. These are moments when cynicism feels most plausible, and most costly. Many hard times can feel like a 3½ Moment, and a 3½ Moment is not the end of the story. It is only half of seven, a limited period of adversity before divine deliverance. Because 3½ is connected to 7, we have the assurance that our suffering and problems are temporary, as we look to Jesus Christ.

President Russell M. Nelson, the late president of The Church of Jesus Christ, once described the discipline this way: “Our focus must be riveted on the Savior and His gospel. It is mentally rigorous to strive to look unto Him in every thought. But, when we do, our doubts and fears flee.” 

To have its intended meaning, the symbol of 3½ must be connected to the symbol of 7. Similarly, to fulfill its intended purposes, we benefit when we connect our hard times to Jesus Christ.

In my own prayers, I’ve learned to ask for something simpler than an explanation: a sentence I can live on. “I can’t see the end yet. Help me be faithful in the middle. Help me take the next step.”

Wendell’s 3½ Moment

Wendell Jones and I previously served together in a bishopric, a congregation’s leadership. In 2022 Wendell was diagnosed with ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig’s disease.

ALS is a progressive neurodegenerative disorder that affects nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord.  The disease has taken things from him in stages, but it hasn’t taken his posture toward life.

As he navigates this period, Wendell has a deep knowledge and testimony of the gospel plan that helps him maintain an eternal perspective about his life and his illness.

After his diagnosis, he logged miles on a two-wheeled bike to keep his strength. When that became unsafe, he switched to three wheels. Now he rides in a car—often in the passenger seat—so he can talk while someone else drives. It’s a small parable of discipleship: when one way of moving forward closes, you learn another.

My wife recently asked Wendell, “You are always so happy; how do you do it?” Wendell’s response was direct: “How could I not, when I think of everything that Jesus has done for me?”

Wendell has spent his adult life serving his parents and his large posterity. Now, in this season of life, he humbly allows them to serve him.

What Suffering Makes of Us

Alma 62:41 demonstrates the principle that the same difficulties will result in different outcomes. The Nephites had just finished a decade of war, witnessing and experiencing horrific atrocities. The Book of Mormon records that “because of the exceedingly great length of the war… many had become hardened… [and] many were softened because of their afflictions.” The same set of experiences led to opposite spiritual outcomes. What matters most in life is not the adversity faced, but the response.

There is nothing neutral with adversity. Adversity changes us, for better or worse.

Yet when hard times come, we may think:

• “What have I done to deserve this?”
• “Why is this happening to me, when I’m trying so hard to be good?”
• “Why is this problem lingering so long?”

The book of Alma teaches that “whosoever shall put their trust in God shall be supported in their trials, and their troubles, and their afflictions, and shall be lifted up at the last day” (Alma 36:3).

Expect Friction

How can difficult problems be a catalyst to make us better, not bitter? How can adversity become a 3½ Moment that is a steppingstone toward our 7, which is eternal life? I observed four practices in the example of Wendell, and in my own life. 

From the beginning of the scripture record we are put on notice that difficult experiences are the norm, not the exception. The Book of Genesis records that the ground was cursed for Adam’s sake, and Eve was promised that her sorrow would be multiplied (Genesis 3:16–17).

Author Dennis Wholey wrote, as shared by President Jeffrey R. Holland, then a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles: “Expecting a trouble-free life because you are a good person is like expecting the bull not to charge you because you are a vegetarian.”

Even Jesus was made “perfect through sufferings” (Hebrews 2:10). Trials are not evidence that the plan is failing; often they are evidence that God is working.

Practice Gratitude Without Denial

I share a principle that has been meaningful to me. I’ve come to think of it as a kind of eternal unfairness. Each of us will be resurrected and receive an immortal body, a gift made possible by the Atonement of Christ. We didn’t earn that. 

Jesus Christ bled “from every pore” (Mosiah 3:7; D&C 19:18) and suffered infinitely, so we have the gift of repentance and receive a remission of our sins.

In Latter-day Saint belief, Jesus Christ, through the ordinances provided in temples, blesses us with eternal life and eternal families—an incomprehensible gift made possible as we receive the Atonement of Christ by making and keeping covenants.

In things that matter most, remember: The deck is stacked—in our favor! Life is truly unfair because of Jesus Christ. Aren’t we so grateful for it?

Jesus taught, “In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). As adults, it helps to ponder the price He paid for us: “which suffering caused myself, even God… to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore” (D&C 19:16–18). Gratitude for Jesus helps hard times become 3½ Moments of growth.

Let Trust Be Active

Elder Richard G. Scott, a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, taught, “This life is an experience in profound trust—trust in Jesus Christ, trust in His teachings… To trust means to obey willingly without knowing the end from the beginning.” Trials can help us increase our trust in God: that He “shall consecrate thine afflictions for thy gain” (2 Nephi 2:2), and that “He doeth not anything save it be for the benefit of the world” (2 Nephi 26:24).

Instead of asking, “Why is this happening to me?” we can ask, “Why is this happening for me?” What am I to learn? How can this problem help me increase my faith and trust in Jesus Christ? Nelson taught that we can “receive more faith by doing something that requires more faith.”

Turn Outward

Jesus taught by example that in times of adversity we should look outward and serve others. While on the cross, in His deepest agony and suffering, we see Jesus—astonishingly—arranging for the care of His mother:

“When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, Woman, behold thy son. Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy mother” (John 19:26–27).

In times of adversity, our natural inclination is to focus inward. Instead, Jesus invites us to look outward to others, especially when we are experiencing personal challenges. This is a gospel paradox: “He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it” (Matthew 10:39). Elder David A. Bednar, also an apostle in The Church of Jesus Christ, taught, “Character is demonstrated by looking and reaching outward when the natural and instinctive response is to be self-absorbed and turn inward.”

When those inevitable hard times come, we have a choice: we can be frustrated, grit our teeth, and suffer through it. Or we can see this problem that we would never choose as an opportunity. Your 3½ Moment does not define you, but it can refine you. Healing will come. All problems can be temporary on an eternal scale, as we strive to follow Jesus Christ. When you are in that 3½ Moment, remember: 7 is coming.

The post Your Hardest Season Might Be Exactly Half a Miracle appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Humility is not humiliation; it’s the start to something better.

What “The Day Of The Ashes” Meant

In the early medieval West the name dies cinerum—“day of ashes”—appears in the Roman books; by the later first millennium, marking the head with ash had become the way common Christians entered Lent. In 1091, Pope Urban II extended the custom at Benevento; soon liturgical books called the day Feria Quarta Cinerum (Ash Wednesday). The words were simple, the meaning older than Christendom: repentance and mortality, echoing Genesis 3:19.

The gesture sprang from Scripture’s grammar of contrition—Daniel turning “with fasting, and sackcloth, and ashes” (Daniel 9:3), Job repenting “in dust and ashes” (Job 42:6), Nineveh in sackcloth (Jonah 3). Dust was catechesis.

The Restoration’s Witness: Dust, Nothingness, Promise

If medieval Christians called us dust, Restoration scripture continues the theme—and then refuses to leave us there. King Benjamin commands disciples to “remember… the greatness of God, and your own nothingness” so they can learn to “always retain in remembrance” His goodness (Mosiah 4:11–12). Alma is blunter: “I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak” (Alma 26:12). And Helaman’s lament is bracing: “How great is the nothingness of the children of men; yea, even they are less than the dust of the earth” (Helaman 12:7–8).

This is not self‑loathing; it is spiritual realism. Dust is teachable. “If men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness,” the Lord says—not to crush, but to make “weak things become strong” (Ether 12:27). 

The Orthodox Beginning: Clean Monday

Eastern Christians start Great Lent on Clean Monday, a different tradition to enter the same period of the year. It is the first step of fasting, confession, and household “cleansing”—a positive, springlike beginning that pairs sobriety with joy. The day frames repentance not as dour exhibition but as purification, a clearing to make room for grace.

While these traditions have developed different practices, they both intuitively understand that to begin the season that ends with the glorious resurrection, we should start with humility. 

A Latter‑day Saint On‑Ramp To Easter

Modern life trains us to curate an image of greatness. The Book of Mormon’s anthropology is corrective: remember God’s greatness and our dependence, and remember covenant possibility (Mosiah 4:11–12). Moses felt it—“man is nothing”—and then saw God’s work unfold through him (Moses 1:10, 39). In other words, recognizing our nothingness is not an insult; it’s permission to be redeemed. And refusing to recognize it can prevent our redemption.

Members of The Church of Jesus Christ celebrate Easter with worship and witness but have not historically observed Ash Wednesday or Lent as formal religious seasons. 

As we seek to apply Elder Stevenson’s counsel, we don’t need to import another church’s liturgical calendar, but we would be wise to recognize the accumulated wisdom in the way they’ve chosen to celebrate the season. 

So how might Latter‑day Saint families launch an Easter season, starting from the ground, in humility?

Choose a starting day. You might key it to the first Monday several weeks before Easter (a nod to “clean” beginnings) or to a family fast day. Mark the start in family council: “Today we begin our walk to Easter.” Small, simple, said out loud.

Name the truth. Read together Moses 1:10; Mosiah 4:11; Helaman 12:7–8. Let each person finish the sentence: “Because I am dust, I will…” (serve, forgive, listen). Keep it under five minutes; keep it tender.

Consider the Metaphor. Perhaps the timing of planting in much of the northern hemisphere can give you or your family a reason to get into the dirt and dust. This could allow you to connect to the lowliness metaphor in a unique way.

Fast to make room. Perhaps make a special effort to fast on the first Sunday in March, or add an additional fast on the Sunday before or after the traditional Ash Wendesday day as a way of starting the season in humility. 

Prime the house. Borrow a line from Clean Monday: do some literal cleaning, donate gently used items, and clear a shelf for an “Easter table.” If you’re going to do spring cleaning anyway, why not find a way to connect it to the start of an Easter spiritual celebration?

Read the story. Last year, Public Square Magazine published “40 Days to Easter,” a set of readings that covered the life of Jesus Christ. This calendar or similar scripture reading traditions can begin as part of a countdown to Easter. 

We are in an exciting season. Medieval Christians were 600 years into their tradition before Ash Wednesday began to develop. Latter-day Saints are still shy of 200, and so we are purposefully considering ways to expand our traditions and point our lives toward Jesus Christ. As we consider how to celebrate the season, we should be thoughtful about what our unique faith brings, and continue to remain in conversation with our fellow Christians and the ways they have found to celebrate.

The post A Latter-day Saint Prelude to Easter appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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Never before have knowledge and information been so accessible, and yet harmful. Like a flash flood, information, opinions, and facts have breached boundaries once built to maintain order and safety. Just as water can be both life-saving and life-threatening, the flood of information now inundating us can either save or destroy our souls. 

In his first public address at Brigham Young University (BYU) as President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, President Dallin H. Oaks commented on this rising threat and on the “abundance of speculation and false information in podcasts and on social media.” He reemphasized the necessity of the Holy Ghost in discerning truth, adding soberly: “You live in a season where the adversary has become so effective at disguising truth that if you don’t have the Holy Ghost, you will be deceived.” 

Yet this deception is not new. It has been employed from the very beginning by Satan, “that being who beguiled our first parents, who transformeth himself nigh unto an angel of light.” In the Garden of Eden, Satan disguised his true identity and convinced Eve to partake of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, in violation of God’s commands. We know from modern prophets and scriptures that the Fall was ultimately part of God’s plan. It ushered in mortality, the ability to have children, and enabled Adam and Eve to progress and become like God. Oaks even taught that we should “celebrate Eve’s act and honor her wisdom and courage.” 

So what was the problem? The problem was the messenger: Satan offered what he did not have the authority to give, obscured its consequences, and enticed Eve to disobey God. Gratefully, God’s plan cannot be frustrated, even by Satan’s most cunning deception, and God provided a way forward in Christ. But Adam and Eve never forgot the sobering lesson they learned: by following an unauthorized messenger, they almost lost everything.

Learning from their mistakes, Adam and Eve were determined to listen only to true messengers from God once they arrived in the lone and dreary world. But how could they know who was a messenger from God and who wasn’t, especially knowing that Satan can disguise himself? Ironically, by giving Eve the fruit of knowledge of good and evil, Satan gave Eve power to detect him. Further, the temple teaches that God also provided Adam and Eve with certain means, which Satan cannot imitate, to identify true messengers so that Adam and Eve could know of a surety who was an authorized messenger from God and who was not. 

It also does not feel coincidental that Section 129 of the Doctrine and Covenants immediately follows this account with instructions on how to detect ministering angels, or authorized messengers, from false spirits, revealing the “grand keys whereby you may know whether any administration is from God.”

The Apostle John taught early Christians to “believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they are of God: because many false prophets are gone out into the world.” But how do we “try the spirits” to know whether they are of God? John tells us: “We”—meaning the apostles—“are of God: he that knoweth God heareth us; he that is not of God heareth not us. Hereby know we the spirit of truth, and the spirit of error.”

We are blessed to live in a day when ordained prophets and apostles serve as authorized servants of God. They are called of God, and although they are not perfect, we can trust them. Jesus Christ Himself admonished as much when He came to the Americas, called twelve servants, and then declared, “Blessed are ye if ye shall give heed unto the words of these twelve whom I have chosen from among you to minister unto you, and to be your servants; and unto them I have given power …” 

The scriptures, likewise, are filled with the words and teachings of past authorized messengers. They are a powerful, authorized source of truth. Elder Richard G. Scott taught that, “Because scriptures are generated from inspired communication through the Holy Ghost, they are pure truth. We need not be concerned about the validity of concepts contained in the scriptures.” President Ezra Taft Benson further testified, “The scriptures are the key to holding on to that iron rod. If we want to taste for ourselves the pure love of God, we must learn to cling to the power that is our scriptures. … The Book of Mormon is the instrument God designed to bring us to Christ.”

Before Christ’s death, He prepared His apostles for His separation from them by explaining that He would give them “the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name.” Thus, the Holy Ghost is an authorized messenger of God. Christ taught His apostles that they can trust the Holy Ghost because He will “guide [them] into all truth” for “he shall not speak of himself; but whatsoever he shall hear [from the Lord], that shall he speak.” This is an essential qualifier of authorized messengers. They do not speak for themselves–only what God gives them. 

In Oaks’ recent remarks at BYU, he reemphasized the need for the Holy Ghost, quoting the prophetic warning of his predecessor President Russel M. Nelson, that “In coming days, it will not be possible to survive spiritually without the guiding, directing, comforting, and constant influence of the Holy Ghost.” 

From the Garden of Eden to the Dispensation of the Fulness of Times, Satan seeks to deceive and frustrate God’s plan. And while Satan’s tactics are becoming more sophisticated, the solution to deception is the same as the one God first gave to Adam and Eve: learn how to recognize and follow authorized messengers. 

The temple narrative clearly shows that one of the primary struggles of living in a fallen world, separated from God, is discerning whom to follow. If we consider ourselves like Adam and Eve, we must be as vigilant as they were in distinguishing between authorized messengers from God and unauthorized ones. 

I find it significant that multiple times a year, during General Conference and in local Stake and Ward Conferences, God declares who His authorized messengers are. Their names are read publicly. Nothing is done in secret. And we are given the opportunity to either sustain or oppose them. God makes it very clear who we should follow and accept as reliable sources of truth. (D&C 43:2-7; D&C 28:12-13.)

So, while deception abounds in our AI age and the deluge of information drowns many, the Lord has continued his pattern of sending authorized messengers to teach His children truth. Satan continues his efforts to deceive, but prophets and the Holy Ghost are authorized messengers, and we, like Adam and Eve, must be vigilant in hearing their voices above others. Jesus Christ again said it best in Doctrine and Covenants 1: 

Wherefore, I the Lord, knowing the calamity which should come upon the inhabitants of the earth, called upon my servant Joseph Smith, Jun., and spake unto him from heaven, and gave him commandments … And also gave commandments to others, that they should proclaim these things unto the world … that man should not counsel his fellow man, neither trust in the arm of flesh … But that every man might speak in the name of God the Lord, even the Savior of the world … What I the Lord have spoken, I have spoken, and I excuse not myself … whether by mine own voice or by the voice of my servants, it is the same. For behold, and lo, the Lord is God, and the Spirit beareth record, and the record is true, and the truth abideth forever and ever. Amen.

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The Serpent as a Sacred Symbol

In many ancient civilizations, the serpent was a symbol of kings, royalty, and gods. You can see this on the front of the Egyptian Pharaoh’s crown and in the Mesoamerican legend of Quetzalcoatl, the feathered serpent. 

It is also a symbol of Christ. The scripture story of Moses’ serpent devouring the Egyptians’ serpents conveyed a powerful theological message that Jehovah is the superior serpent. As Latter-day Saint scholar Andrew Skinner points out, this story testifies of Christ’s supremacy over counterfeit powers.

This context makes it deeply significant that Satan appeared to Eve as a serpent in the Garden. He was appearing as a counterfeit of Christ. Genesis teaches: “Now the serpent was more subtle (cunning, crafty, clever) than any beast of the field” (ESV), setting up the serpent as a counterfeit messenger—appearing authoritative while steering souls away from Christ. Moses 4:6 adds, “Satan put it into the heart of the serpent (for he had drawn away many after him,) and he sought also to beguile Eve.” 

The Brass Serpent and the Lesson of Misplaced Worship

The serpent appears again early in the Old Testament. We read in the book of Numbers that “the people spoke against God and Moses,” asking, “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we loathe this worthless food” (ESV).

God responded to their lack of faith by sending “fiery” (poisonous) serpents into their camp, and people began dying. When the Israelites repented and asked Moses to pray for deliverance, the Lord instructed Moses to make a “serpent of bronze” and fasten it to the top of a pole so that whoever looked upon it would live.

Why would the Israelites worship something meant to point them to the Lord? Did they forget whom they truly worshiped? Similarly, do we forget whom we really worship and find ourselves idolizing good things that were meant to lead us to Christ?

When the Means Become the End

Some things intended to point us to Christ, such as the Church, the Prophet and apostles, the scriptures, church programs, local priesthood leaders, the For the Strength of Youth pamphlet, and even commandments, can sometimes inadvertently become like the brass serpent. They bring us to Christ, but when we treat them as salvific in and of themselves, we risk idolizing them. The Pharisees exemplified what idolizing commandments looks like.

I’m not suggesting anyone does this deliberately, but in our valiant effort to teach members and children to fully participate in church, follow the prophet, and read the scriptures, we sometimes create a culture where these good and righteous things are assumed to be the end goal instead of the means to the end. 

What Does It Mean That the Church Is “True and Living”?

But don’t we say things like, “The Prophet will never lead us astray,” “The Book of Mormon is the most correct of any book,” and “The Church is the only true Church?” Yes, but those statements require context.

When we say the Church is “true,” what do we mean? It has the ordinances of the Priesthood, is led by Christ through revelation to His servants, and teaches salvific doctrine. It is divine, it is Christ’s Church. Many hear ‘true’ as ‘flawless’: perfectly accurate scriptures, faultless programs, decisions exactly as God would make them. In other words, we interpret “true” as factually binary, all right or all wrong. Many members even feel proud of that idea, believing that all other sects are abominable and all preachers corrupt.

But what happens when the Church changes policies, reverses decisions, or rolls out a less effective program? What do we do when someone says something hurtful, when leaders contradict each other, or when members feel hurt or isolated within church culture?

The problem with this true or false thinking is that when people encounter a problem in the Church, they often feel they have no choice but to leave, throwing the baby out with the bathwater. The assumption is that a divine institution should have no human error, turning every mistake into a potential crisis of faith.

D&C 1:30 states that this is the only “true and living” Church. We often define “true” as “unchanging” or “factually accurate,” but the qualifying word “living” complicates that definition. Another meaning of “true” is “to make level, square, balanced, or concentric; to restore to accuracy or form,” which gives the word a more dynamic, living sense. “Truing a wheel,” for example, means adjusting the spokes so it spins straight and steady, free of wobble. 

Perhaps the Church being “true” is like a bicycle wheel, pointed in the right direction, generally straight, yet occasionally needing adjustment. We have to pump flat tires, straighten dents, and realign spokes to keep it true. And as we ride, we make countless small course corrections that keep us moving toward our destination.

To call the Church “living” points to continuing revelation, but it also implies correction, growth, and healing. Recent changes to temple language and partnerships with the NAACP are examples.

The Church is a vehicle to salvation, like a car. Compared with others in the lot, it’s the best one. It’s not perfect or the biggest or fastest, and it has dents to buff out. But it’s reliable, offers upgrades, and has the best safety features. We get weekly gas fill-ups and 24-hour roadside assistance. Each model year improves, and it even includes a heavenly OnStar call button. The best feature may be the eternal warranty.

Prophets, Fallibility, and the Divine Filter

In the Old Testament, the Lord summoned Gideon to free Israel from Midianite oppression. Gideon raised an army of 32,000, but God told him that was too many, since He wanted no one else to take the glory. After reducing the army to 300, they triumphed. Yet the people gave Gideon the credit, saying, “Rule over us, for you have delivered us.” Gideon replied, “I will not rule over you, the Lord shall rule over you.”

Latter-day Saint scholar and writer Terryl Givens, in The Crucible of Doubt, observes that such hero worship is common in human history and even within our Church. He cites the old joke that Catholics claim the Pope is infallible but no one believes it, while Latter-day Saints claim the Prophet is fallible but no one believes it. The notion that prophets are infallible specimens of virtue and perfection is “neither scriptural nor reasonable,” Givens writes.

President Dieter F. Uchtdorf likewise acknowledged, “We openly acknowledge that in nearly 200 years of Church history… there have been some things said and done that could cause people to question…. And, to be perfectly frank, there have been times when members or leaders in the Church have simply made mistakes.”

Elder D. Todd Christofferson added that “not every statement made by a Church leader, past or present, necessarily constitutes doctrine. … Often it represents a personal, though well-considered, opinion, not meant to be official or binding.” 

Scripture reinforces that God speaks to us according to our language and understanding (see 2 Nephi 31 and D&C 1). Revelation filters through human personalities and paradigms. Joseph Smith acknowledged this, and Moroni echoed it on the title page of the Book of Mormon: “If there are faults, they are the mistakes of men.”

So what does divinity look like filtered through mortals? I find the metaphor of stained glass fitting. Depending on its color and design, the light passing through is beautiful and divine, but still filtered. The filtering makes it unique. Just because there’s glass doesn’t mean the light isn’t divine. Consider how divine inspiration manifests differently through the “stained glass” of Neal A. Maxwell, Brigham Young, Sheri Dew, Jeffrey R. Holland, Gordon B. Hinckley, Bruce R. McConkie, Dieter F. Uchtdorf, or Sharon Eubank, and through your own ward members.

God uses flawed vessels because that’s all He has, but also to teach humility and redirect our worship. He told Joseph Smith in D&C 121: 1, “For unto this end have I raised you up, that I might show forth my wisdom through the weak things of the earth.” Elder Jeffrey R. Holland reminded us, “Imperfect people are all God has ever had to work with… and when you see imperfection, remember that the limitation is not in the divinity of the work.” 

The Lord built checks and balances into His system, councils, quorums, companionships, presidencies, and marriages. Elder Boyd K. Packer noted, “These procedures protect the work from the individual weaknesses apparent in all of us.” 

Two Common Errors in Faith

We tend to err in two ways. First, we don’t take the prophet, the Church, or the scriptures seriously enough. Many of us fail to fully embrace the blessings of following the Brethren, participating in Church, and feasting on scripture. President Nelson warned that “we should not put question marks where the Prophet has put periods.” 

The second error is what New Testament scholar Darrell Bock calls “brittle fundamentalism,” assuming the Church, prophets, or scriptures must be perfect, then losing faith when confronted with imperfection. If we think the Church must be all true or all false, it’s easy to walk away when we find flaws. 

The Value of Honest Questions

To those wrestling with doubts, your questions are valid. There is nothing wrong with you. Questions are how we learn. Nearly every revelation in the Doctrine and Covenants began with a question. The First Vision began with a question.

Uncertainty is uncomfortable, but sincere inquiry is part of discipleship. Answers may come quickly, slowly, or not at all, which is why faith is essential to spiritual growth. Joseph Smith taught that “a religion that does not require the sacrifice of all things never has power sufficient to produce the faith necessary unto life and salvation.” Perhaps part of that sacrifice is placing our complaints and unanswered questions on the altar, trusting that God values honest wrestling as much as easy belief.

Creating a Culture Safe for Seekers

A living church must also be a safe place for sincere seekers. If faith is meant to grow through honest inquiry rather than brittle certainty, then questions should not be treated as threats. In practice, however, some members quietly fear that voicing doubts will brand them as disloyal or spiritually weak.

Yet the Restoration itself models a different pattern. Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf taught, “Inquiry is the birthplace of testimony. … Asking questions isn’t a sign of weakness; it’s a precursor of growth.” Faith that cannot tolerate sincere questions risks confusing devotion with defensiveness.

Mature discipleship makes room for complexity without abandoning commitment. Over time, faith may move from simplicity to complexity and, ideally, return to a deeper, humbler simplicity (see Hafen, Faith is Not Blind). Creating space for that process does not weaken the Church. It honors the fact that a true and living faith must also be patient, charitable, and resilient.

Triangulating Truth

We must utilize each of these sources rather than idolize them.

Choosing to Believe

I’ve chosen the gospel of Christ as the reality on which I’ll depend for salvation. I believe this Church is the best vehicle to reach that destination. I believe because I choose to, not because of flawless logic. I have felt the Holy Spirit confirm the truth to me on many occasions.

My testimony waxes and wanes, as everyone’s does. Sometimes it nears certainty; other times it leans on faith alone. Yet even in weakness, it calls me to keep trying, to keep seeing light through stained glass.

The post When Symbols Become Idols: Remembering What Points Us to Christ appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

This article lists a number of resources you may want to use in your study of the Old Testament during the year 2026.

Resources From the Church

Come, Follow Me—For Home and Church: Old Testament

This manual supports gospel learning and scripture study for individuals and families at home. It also serves as the curriculum for Primary, Sunday School, Young Women classes, and Aaronic Priesthood quorum meetings. Available online, in the Gospel Library app, and as a printed book.

Scripture Helps: Old Testament

This new resource provides

• Background information (historical, cultural, and geographic insights that provide context to stories, teachings, and doctrine of the scriptures)
• Explanations of language (clarifications of difficult wordings, archaic expressions, and confusing translations)
• Help with difficult or confusing passages (Scriptures of the Restoration, the words of modern prophets and apostles, and reliable scholarship to help clarify the meaning of difficult passages)
• Talks and articles
• Images and videos

Available online and in the Gospel Library app. Links to these Scripture Helps can be found throughout the Come, Follow Me manual and in related sections of digital scriptures. These resources build on the institute student manuals that many members are familiar with, now updated and expanded for broader use.

Old Testament Stories

Colorfully illustrated stories from the Old Testament written on a basic reading level. Available online, in the Gospel Library app, on the Gospel for Kids YouTube channel, and as a printed book.

Scripture Stories Coloring Book: Old Testament

Thirty-two fun coloring and activity pages designed to introduce children to the Old Testament. Activities include dot-to-dot, mazes, and puzzles as well as fun things to do as a family. Available online, in the Gospel Library app, and as a 8.5 x 11-inch printed book.

“Insights from the Apostles” Videos

This monthly video series launched in 2025 will continue in 2026. Each video features a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles sharing messages related to an Old Testament scripture. Videos will be published each month in the digital Come, Follow Me study guides. They can also be found in a collection in the Gospel Library.

Games, Stories, and Activities For Children

The Church publishes a collection of games, stories, and activities for teaching children, correlated to the Come, Follow Me study guides. These resources can help parents and Primary leaders. Links are provided in each week’s Come, Follow Me study guide.

Gospel Library Study Plans

To help you track your gospel study, the Church provides a variety of study plans, including a study plan for the Old Testament. You can make a plan to follow the Come, Follow Me weekly schedule, to study the Old Testament at your own pace, and to study the required readings for seminary. To access study plans, go to the Home section of the Gospel Library app.

The Gospel Learning and Teaching Email Subscription

You can receive links to resources that support Come, Follow Me lessons, practical tips to improve study and teaching, and additional content and ideas for teaching children and youth. Available as an email subscription and on Facebook and Instagram.

Gospel Topics and Questions

A collection of resources ranging from simple gospel-related definitions to in-depth study guides. Available online and in the Gospel Library app.

Alternate Bible Translations

The Church publishes its own edition of the Bible in select languages and has identified preferred editions of the Bible in many languages spoken by Church members. Church members are instructed to generally use these editions in Church meetings and classes. However, the General Handbook has recently been updated to clarify that other Bible translations may also be used that might be easier to understand and doctrinally clear. Learn more and see examples of recommended bible translations.

Resources From Others

• BOM Bites a weekday 10-minute podcast
• Come Follow Me resources by Scripture Central (also on YouTube in English, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Chinese, and Japanese)
• Come Follow Me resources by the Interpreter Foundation
• Come Follow Me resources by FAIR
• Come Follow Me Insights weekly podcasts with Taylor and Tyler
• Come Follow Me podcast by Scot and Maurine Proctor of Meridian Magazine
• Come Follow Me Corner resources
• Come Follow Me videos by Jonna Veach
• Come Follow Me For Kids
• Come Follow Me For Primary Kids videos by LEGO Day Saints (also in Spanish)
• Come Follow Me Study with Cali Black
• Come Follow Me Study Resources from Deseret Book
• Come Follow Me Toddlers resources
• Come, Follow Me with Wilford Woodruff
• Come Follow Up weekly podcasts with host Ben Lomu (BYUtv)
• Connect Up Come Follow Me handouts
• Don’t Miss This Study podcast
• Faith Insights with Tyler Griffin
• Finding Christ in the Old Testament by John Hilton III
• Follow Him podcast with Hank Smith and John Bytheway
• Grounded Come Follow Me weekly podcasts by Barbara Morgan Gardner
• Hard Questions Q&A from Mormonr.org
• Latter-day Kids videos by Living Scriptures
• Red Headed Hostess weekly kits
• Scripture Gems (Fullmer Gems) by Jay and Jon Fullmer
• Scripture Insights podcast with Taylor Halverson
• Study My Gospel Robert Miller’s notes
• Sunday on Monday weekly podcast by LDS Living
• Unshaken weekly videos with Jared Halverson
• We Believe App (formerly the Come Follow Me app)