Working in the Vineyard

Reflections on Ward Missionary Service

Who is Jesus Christ? It sounds like a question you should be able to answer in primary, but it also gnaws at me constantly. Barely a week ago, I told Heavenly Father, “I desire to follow Him more than ever, but feel as though I know Him less than ever.”

While that might seem like an odd prayer for a lifelong member of the Church, it highlights the difference between knowing about Jesus—and knowing Him.

As the Son of God, He set the example for all of us to follow. He taught things that radically challenged the traditional ways we approach life. Consider just a few of His teachings.

In his story about the workers in the vineyard, people start working at different times of the day, but everyone gets paid the same in the end. In the parable of the Prodigal Son, the brother who leaves home, spends his birthright, and pursues a destructive life ends up back with his father—and his inheritance. When the woman caught in adultery is brought before Jesus, He tells her to go and sin no more.

These teachings fly in the face of how we normally deal with each other. Think about it. How are any of those things fair?

If I start work at 5 a.m., I should get paid more than those who start at 5 p.m. If I spend my inheritance, it should be spent and irretrievable (banks certainly won’t let me cash the same check twice). If I commit adultery, my life should be shattered. I should be stigmatized by my neighbors and face a long road before I can ever again feel the love of Jesus.

But we’re the ones who are obsessed with paying prices. Jesus wants us to do away with those natural man reflexes. He wants us to stop thinking about what’s fair or how to get to heaven—and start building heaven by loving each other.

The more I study and apply His teachings, the less I seem to know. Perhaps that’s one reason why President Nelson has asked us to devote time each week to studying about the Atonement of Jesus Christ.

ATONEMENT

We often talk about this as something that happened in the Garden of Gethsemane. If we’re feeling a little crazy, we might also say that Christ’s pains returned a second time when hanging from the cross. And yet, as President Nelson implies, there’s much more to learn.

“Atonement” is an English word for becoming “at one” with Christ. As you start to study, you’ll learn that “Atonement” refers not only to an experience in Gethsemane or on the cross but to the sum total of all Christ did for us. For example, a primary element of “Atonement” as it appears in the Book of Mormon is, interestingly, resurrection. The earliest Christians often viewed it as representing how Christ heals us from our sins (or the self-inflicted wounds we incur as a result of our brokenness). And pioneer Latter-day Saints sought ways to use ordinances like the sacrament to become one not just with Jesus but also with each other.

The Prophet Joseph Smith had an interesting approach to the Savior’s Atonement. On one hand, he almost never talked about it, likely reflecting an understanding that punishment-focused theology diverges from the Savior’s true purpose.

On the other hand, Joseph taught some things so radical that they remind you of Someone Else who challenged us through His teachings and parables.

Consider this quote. It sounds so simple, and yet it had—and has—dramatic consequences:

“If you do not accuse each other, God will not accuse you. If you have no accuser, you will enter heaven.”

Some pioneer Latter-day Saints twisted the Prophet’s words. At this time in our history, polygamy was practiced, but it was also highly secretive. That caused more than a few problems, one of which included some male followers of the Prophet telling women it was okay to commit adultery as long as they didn’t tell others. The thinking was that if no one knew, then no one could accuse them. And if no one accused them, salvation was assured.

But that was a horrific twisting of Joseph’s teachings. The Prophet wasn’t advising on how to get away with harmful actions by keeping them secret. Rather, he challenged the saints to turn their understandings about heaven inside out.

He’d already done this by revealing Section 76 of the Doctrine and Covenants. Replacing a heaven–hell dichotomy with a more generous view of the afterlife was too challenging for some pioneers, and many Kirtland saints left the Church as a result.

With this teaching about accusers, Joseph Smith is going a step further. Forget about heaven and hell. Forget about degrees of glory. What’s it all about? Each other.

Each of us has hurt someone else. We can’t take that pain away. We can try. We can make restitution. We can change. “We” can do so much. But the other person is the only one who can accept us after harming them. Sometimes, we’re the person who was harmed.

Joseph was teaching something radical, something that echoes the Lord Himself: whether your neighbor gets into heaven depends on you. Divine forgiveness be damned, that person can’t come in until you give the green light. Conversely, you’re at the eternal mercy of whomever you’ve wronged.

Think of what that means. It’s simultaneously terrifying—and empowering.

Terryl Givens, a Latter-day Saint religious scholar at BYU, quotes a twentieth-century Russian theologian who said the same thing in different words.

“Moral history,” said Nikolai Berdyaev, “began when God asked Cain, Where is your brother Abel? But it will reach its culmination when God asks Abel, Where is your brother Cain?”

Did you catch that? Cain killed Abel. Murdered him. That’s about as serious as it gets. And yet Christ’s Atonement offers healing even for him—but it comes in a unique way. Ultimately, Abel will forgive Cain. They will heal each other by living up to the seemingly impossible teachings of Christ.

Can you imagine them when that happens, Cain and Abel walking arm in arm, building Zion on the other side of the veil? First, brothers, then a murderer and his victim, then two members of the body of Christ choosing not to accuse each other but to be each other’s keeper.

That is the message of Christ. That is, in part, Atonement. It is both our impossible challenge—and our inevitable destiny. It is the vision we share with others as Latter-day Saints.

MY MISSION IN ITALY

I want to share a brief experience that is both embarrassing and enlightening. I served my mission in Rome, Italy. Suffice it to say we didn’t have much success when it came to baptisms.

One day, I went with my companion to read scriptures with a ward member. I don’t recall all the details, but when we finished, the member cried and said that because of our conversation, he would fast for the first time in his life.

It should have been a joyous experience. But I was tormented. Six months I’ve been here. I’ve rarely gotten past the first discussion. Almost no one has. Missionaries who baptize are like unicorns.

And now, I’m not even doing “missionary” work. All I did was get a current member to fast. Am I a failure? Was it worth it? I left behind school, girls—many girls—and plans. I’d do it again in a heartbeat if only I could make a difference. But what does it say about me if I can’t baptize anyone, if the very best I’ve done is help a member feel God’s love and decide to fast?

Some of you will relate to that mindset. It’s what I knew at the time. You can recognize the sincerity of my motives, yet also the deep flaws that accompany them.

What would Christ have said if we had a conversation about that? I know now: “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”

This truth casts baptism in a new light. The symbol of that ritual is powerful and can help people take the first step in a new journey, one that is focused on following Christ and building Zion, or heaven, with each other.

BAPTISM

But baptism isn’t an end goal. While it’s a solid statistic to indicate membership in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, it falls short of indicating conversion to Christ’s teachings. Jesus doesn’t teach us how to get to heaven. Rather, He teaches of our responsibility to build it with each other.

Even the best of people can misunderstand that, though. Richie Steadman, my ministering companion, recently interviewed Richard Hanks—the son of Elder Marion D. Hanks. It’s a fascinating episode of The Cultural Hall podcast worth listening to. Elder Hanks believed that Matthew 25 and 28 went hand in hand, that we both serve and preach. And he exemplified how the best preaching is often done without words.

While overseeing some of the Church’s efforts in Asia, Elder Hanks devoted one of the missions to nothing but humanitarian service. When he approached the Church for the needed funds, one of the brethren was concerned about how that might negatively impact statistics and asked, “How many baptisms will it cost us?”

Elder Hanks replied, “All of them.”

The goal was to preach like Christ, not to baptize. Later, a visiting leader walked through a refugee camp the missionaries had set up. “Are there any Mormon refugees here,” he asked?

“Not yet,” said Elder Hanks. “But there will be.”

And there were.

Over and over, whenever the Church has experimented with preaching that takes the form of friendship and service, baptisms are a natural result—often in greater numbers than the traditional approach.

WARD MISSION

It’s one reason why President Gardner has asked us to start calling the Ward Mission Leader—that’s me—the “Ward Doing Good Leader.” He warned us against making friends to increase the chances they’ll be baptized, saying that those motives are “fake.”

The idea is to make friends, to be in each other’s life, and to lift each other’s burdens. We’re not trying to create converts but rather to build community—what it’s all about. In a very real sense, you and I are the good news of the gospel Jesus preached. By following His example, we give each other the healing He promises.

Our ward mission plan will have four components to start:

1. Zero baptism goal. We are setting a baptism goal of zero, and the stake presidency has expressed interest in following our lead. We’re not anti-baptism, but we want that ritual to stem from friendship. We don’t care if you join our church, the mosque up the street, or no church at all. We just want you in our lives.

2. Teach with the missionaries. If you ask us how to learn more about the Church, we’ll teach you alongside them. And we’ll help the missionaries teach anyone in the current pipeline.

3. Focus on service. We’re going to bring the missionaries with us to serve people. We’ll help folks move, facilitate the self-reliance process, go to sporting events, sponsor fundraisers, visit the lonely, and anything else we can think of. But the missionaries won’t teach. They’ll never even invite people to listen to the discussions. They’ll serve, create friendships, and build Zion with name tags front and center. No preaching. But the minute someone asks a question, they—and we—will be ready to help them make covenants.

4. Focus on belonging. Even within the Church, the feeling of community that will be in Zion can feel lacking. We want to help create that, probably by identifying folks who feel lost after wards were combined last year. We don’t care if you come to church or stay home. But we want you to know you’ve got friends. And someone to sit with if you do come. And we’ll love it if you can enrich us by being part of our lives.

My testimony today is that Jesus Christ lives and this embodiment of Atonement is what He’s anointed and appointed us to do. We can build heaven with each other, dry tears, prevent homelessness, create friends, bear burdens, and live so that when Christ returns, we’ll know Him because we’ve become like him.

Kurt Manwaring is the Editor-in-Chief of FromtheDesk.org, a Latter-day Saint history and religion blog.

Art by Vincent Van Gogh.