Gramps,

I have a question. What Priesthood does Heavenly Father have? Because the Melchizedek (Higher) Priesthood’s name is the Holy Priesthood after the Order of the Son of God. This would imply that the Priesthood originates from Jesus Christ (Jehovah) and is related to his role as Savior. If this is so, what Priesthood does Heavenly Father (Elohim) have? We know he must have some Priesthood in order to conduct the creation and preside over the Universe and his children thereof.

Hinckley

Answer

Hinckley,

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has never revealed that Heavenly Father possesses a priesthood different from the Melchizedek Priesthood. In fact, the scriptures point us in another direction. Rather than describing multiple eternal priesthoods, they consistently speak of one everlasting priesthood that has existed with God from eternity. The title “Holy Priesthood, after the Order of the Son of God” tells us less about the origin of the priesthood and more about how God’s authority is revealed and administered to His children.

Sometimes we unintentionally assume that the Melchizedek Priesthood began with Jesus Christ because His name appears in its original title. But Jesus did not first receive divine authority when He came to earth. Long before His mortal ministry, He was Jehovah, the God of the Old Testament, acting under the direction of His Father. Through Him, worlds were created.

Gramps,

Why was God absent from giving revelation to the Jews during the 400 year intertestamental period (in between Malachi & John the Baptist)? What happened or caused it?   I had wondered about that.  Also, why did the Nephites, in stark contrast, still have revelation from God during that time? Thanks.

Beverly

Answer

Beverly,

Many Christians have heard about the “400 years of silence”—the period between the prophet Malachi in the Old Testament and the appearance of John the Baptist in the New Testament. During those centuries, no new books of scripture were added to the Bible, and no recognized prophets like Isaiah, Jeremiah, or Malachi existed. This naturally raises an interesting question: Did God stop speaking?

For members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, an even more fascinating question follows: If there was little or no recorded revelation among the Jews during that time, why were the Nephites in the Book of Mormon still receiving prophets and revelation?

The answer teaches us an important lesson about how God works with His children.

First, it helps to understand what people mean by the “400 years of silence.” The last book of the Old Testament, written by the prophet Malachi, is generally dated around the fifth century BC. John the Baptist began his ministry about four centuries later. During that time, the Bible records no new prophets ministering to the covenant people in Judea and no additional books of scripture being written.

However, the lack of recorded scripture does not necessarily mean God completely withdrew from His people. Throughout those centuries, He continued to direct events in remarkable ways.

The Jewish people survived foreign domination under several powerful empires. The spread of the Greek language following the conquests of Alexander the Great eventually allowed the gospel to be preached across much of the known world using a common language. Later, the Roman Empire established roads and relative peace, making missionary travel far easier as Jesus Christ’s Apostles took the gospel to many nations. Looking back, it becomes clear that the Lord was preparing the world for the coming of His Son, even if He was not calling Old Testament-style prophets whose writings became part of the Bible.

So why weren’t there recognized prophets in Judea during that time?

The scriptures teach that revelation and prophetic leadership are closely tied to priesthood authority and to people’s willingness to receive God’s word. Throughout the Old Testament, periods of spiritual darkness often followed widespread rejection of the Lord and His prophets.

The prophet Amos foretold such a time:

“Behold, the days come, saith the Lord God, that I will send a famine in the land, not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord” (Amos 8:11).

Many Latter-day Saints understand this prophecy to have multiple fulfillments, including the period leading up to Christ’s mortal ministry. Likewise, Hosea warned Israel:

“My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge: because thou hast rejected knowledge, I will also reject thee” (Hosea 4:6).

While these passages do not explicitly refer to the intertestamental period, they illustrate an important principle: when people repeatedly reject divine guidance, the Lord may withdraw prophets for a time. Even so, He never abandons His covenant people.

In fact, the Lord was anything but absent. He continued preparing the world for the Savior’s birth and ministry. His timing has always been perfect, even when His hand is not immediately obvious.

This is where the Book of Mormon provides remarkable insight.

While there may have been no recognized prophetic ministry in Jerusalem, the Lord had established another covenant people in the Americas through the prophet Lehi around 600 BC. From that point forward, He continued calling prophets to lead the Nephites and record His dealings with them.

Those prophets included Nephi, Jacob, Enos, Jarom, Omni, Mosiah, King Benjamin, Alma, Helaman, Nephi the son of Helaman, Samuel the Lamanite, Mormon, and Moroni. Throughout the centuries, often called the “silent years,” revelation continued among the Nephites.

Why?

One reason is that the Lord had preserved priesthood authority among them. Beginning with Lehi, an unbroken prophetic line was established by divine calling. As long as faithful prophets remained and the people were willing to receive revelation, the heavens remained open.

Another reason was the unique mission of the Nephite record itself. The Lord intended the Book of Mormon to come forth in the latter days as another testament of Jesus Christ. To accomplish that purpose, He continued revealing His will to prophets who faithfully recorded His words.

The Book of Mormon also teaches an important truth that expands our understanding of revelation. Through the prophet Alma, we read:

“For behold, the Lord doth grant unto all nations, of their own nation and tongue, to teach his word” (Alma 29:8).

Likewise, the Lord declared:

“I command all men, both in the east and in the west…that they shall write the words which I speak unto them” (2 Nephi 29:11).

These scriptures remind us that God’s work has never been confined to one nation or one continent. If revelation became limited among one covenant people for a season, that did not mean the Lord stopped speaking altogether. He continued guiding His children elsewhere according to His wisdom and purposes.

Could there have been faithful individuals among the Jews who received personal revelation during those 400 years? Certainly. The absence of recorded scripture does not mean righteous people were left entirely without God’s influence. Faithful men and women undoubtedly prayed, received answers, and were guided by the Holy Ghost. However, there is no biblical evidence of a recognized succession of covenant prophets comparable to those found before Malachi or among the Nephites during the same period.

The Restoration beautifully answers the question of the “400 years of silence.” While many assume heaven was quiet between the Old and New Testaments, the Book of Mormon reveals that God was still revealing His will through living prophets on another continent. The heavens had not closed. Rather, the Lord was accomplishing His purposes in different places according to His perfect plan.

President Russell M. Nelson taught:

“One of the things the Spirit has repeatedly impressed upon my mind since my new calling as President of the Church is how willing the Lord is to reveal His mind and will. The privilege of receiving revelation is one of the greatest gifts of God to His children.”

That same principle applies throughout history. Whether He was speaking through prophets in ancient Israel, through Nephite prophets in the Americas, or through living prophets today, the Lord has always been willing to reveal His will to those prepared to receive it.

President Nelson also reminded us:

“If Joseph Smith’s transcendent experience in the Sacred Grove teaches us anything, it is that the heavens are open and that God speaks to His children.”

The “silent years” ultimately remind us not that God stopped communicating, but that His work is far greater and more expansive than we sometimes realize. His love, His purposes, and His willingness to reveal truth have never been limited by time, geography, or circumstance. Just as He prepared the world for the coming of Jesus Christ, He continues to guide His Church and His children today through continuing revelation.

Gramps

Gramps,

The scriptures are full of instances in which glorified, resurrected beings appear to mortals in less-than-glorified form (e.g., Christ on the road to Emmaus). Can God the Father do this as well? Is there any reason why He couldn’t or wouldn’t ever appear as anything less than His fully glorified self?

For example, could God the Father appear as an old man, walk and talk with a mortal being, shake their hand, etc.? Or would this somehow violate His divine nature?

Josh

Answer

Josh,

The honest answer is that the Lord has never directly revealed the answer to that question. Because of that, it’s important to distinguish between what the scriptures clearly teach and what we can reasonably infer. While we should avoid presenting speculation as doctrine, there are scriptural principles that help us think about the possibility.

One of the clearest examples comes from the resurrected Savior Himself. After His Resurrection, Jesus walked for several miles with two disciples on the road to Emmaus. They discussed recent events, talked about the scriptures, and even shared a meal together, yet neither disciple realized they were speaking with the risen Lord.

Luke explains simply, “But their eyes were holden that they should not know him” (Luke 24:16). Only later, after Jesus blessed and broke bread, were “their eyes… opened, and they knew him” (Luke 24:31).

The account doesn’t suggest that Jesus had ceased to be a glorified, resurrected being. Rather, for His own purposes, He was not immediately recognized. Whatever the exact mechanism, the story demonstrates that a resurrected being’s glory or identity is not always fully revealed to those around Him.

The same principle appears again only a short time later. When Mary Magdalene encountered the resurrected Savior outside the empty tomb, she initially mistook Him for the gardener (John 20:15). Once again, someone who knew Jesus well did not immediately recognize Him. Whether that was because of Mary’s grief, the circumstances, or the Lord intentionally withholding His identity for a time, the account reminds us that resurrection does not necessarily entail constant public recognition.

The Book of Mormon provides another interesting example. The Three Nephites were translated rather than resurrected, but they were nevertheless changed so they could remain on the earth and continue their ministry. Mormon records that “they are among the Gentiles, and the Gentiles know them not” (3 Nephi 28:27). The Lord also declared that they would become “as the angels of God” (3 Nephi 28:30). Their ministry shows that heavenly servants can move among ordinary people without drawing attention to who they really are.

Even angels frequently appear in very ordinary ways. Abraham welcomed three visitors before realizing that one of them represented the Lord (Genesis 18). Lot received heavenly messengers who appeared simply as men (Genesis 19). Throughout scripture, God’s messengers often look remarkably ordinary until the Lord chooses to reveal more about them.

Taken together, these examples establish an important principle. Heavenly beings are not necessarily required to manifest all of their glory every time they appear to mortals. The Lord seems able to reveal as much—or as little—as accomplishes His purposes.

That brings us back to the original question: Does that principle apply to Heavenly Father?

The Restoration teaches plainly that the Father is not merely a spirit or an unknowable force. He is a glorified, resurrected being with a tangible body. Doctrine and Covenants 130:22 declares, “The Father has a body of flesh and bones as tangible as man’s; the Son also.”

Likewise, Joseph Smith taught, “God himself was once as we are now, and is an exalted man” (Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Joseph Smith).

Because the Father possesses a real, tangible body, there is certainly nothing unusual about the idea that He could physically walk, speak, sit, or shake hands. In fact, Joseph Smith’s First Vision leaves little doubt that the Father is a personal Being who can be seen and heard. Joseph testified, “I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description” (Joseph Smith—History 1:17).

Other prophets experienced similar manifestations. Stephen saw the Father and the Son before his martyrdom (Acts 7:55–56), and Moses was brought into God’s presence after being spiritually prepared to endure His glory.

That preparation is an important part of the discussion. After Moses’ vision, he explained, “Mine own eyes have beheld God; but not my natural, but my spiritual eyes… for my natural eyes could not have beheld” (Moses 1:11). Likewise, the Lord taught, “No man has seen God at any time in the flesh, except quickened by the Spirit of God” (Doctrine and Covenants 67:11).

These passages teach that when God reveals His full glory, mortals ordinarily must be spiritually strengthened to endure the experience. However, they do not say that God is incapable of appearing in a different manner if He chooses. They simply describe the circumstances surrounding the revelations recorded.

At this point, we arrive at the limits of what has actually been revealed. The scriptures never tell us that Heavenly Father has appeared disguised as an ordinary man, nor do they say that He never could. There simply isn’t a revelation that directly addresses the question.

That means we should be careful not to go beyond what the Lord has revealed. President Dallin H. Oaks has frequently reminded members of the Church to avoid speculation when revelation is silent. That counsel fits this subject well.

Still, it’s also fair to recognize what the scriptures do teach. They consistently demonstrate that glorified heavenly beings can control how much of themselves they reveal. The resurrected Savior was not always recognized. Angels often appeared as ordinary men. The Three Nephites minister unnoticed among the people. Those examples don’t prove that Heavenly Father has done the same thing, but they do show that there is nothing inherently contradictory about a glorified being interacting with mortals without displaying overwhelming glory.

It’s also worth remembering that the Father often accomplishes His work through His Son, through angels, and through authorized servants. Personal appearances by the Father are relatively rare in scripture, not because He is unable to appear, but because He has established an order through which much of His work is carried out. When He has chosen to reveal Himself directly, those experiences have generally been moments of profound revelation, such as the First Vision or His declaration at the Savior’s baptism and on the Mount of Transfiguration.

In the end, the safest conclusion is also the simplest one. We know that Heavenly Father is an exalted, glorified being with a tangible body of flesh and bones. We know He has appeared to prophets in glory. We also know that other glorified heavenly beings have, at times, interacted with mortals without immediately revealing who they were.

Whether Heavenly Father has ever chosen to veil His glory in a similar way is something the Lord has not revealed. There is no doctrinal reason to declare it impossible, but neither is there any revealed doctrine that says He has done so. Faithful Latter-day Saints can comfortably acknowledge that distinction, recognizing that some questions simply await further revelation.

Until then, perhaps the greater lesson is not how God appears, but that He does appear according to His own wisdom and purposes. Whether through His Son, through angels, through the Holy Ghost, or on the rare occasions when He has manifested Himself personally, Heavenly Father has always found ways to reveal Himself to His children when doing so accomplishes His divine purposes.

Gramps

Gramps,

It says in Exodus 33:20 that no one can see God’s face and live.  This confuses me about how Joseph Smith saw God.

Colleen

Answer

Colleen,

One of the verses that often confuses people is Exodus 33:20. In that passage, the Lord tells Moses:

“Thou canst not see my face: for there shall no man see me, and live.”

At first glance, that seems pretty straightforward. If no one can see God’s face and survive, then how could Joseph Smith testify that he saw both Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ in the First Vision? Doesn’t that contradict the Bible?

According to Latter-day Saint doctrine, the answer is actually simpler than it may seem. The key is understanding the context of Exodus 33 and recognizing that God has, on several occasions, allowed mortals to see Him by His own power.

First, it’s worth noting something interesting about Moses himself. Just a few verses earlier in Exodus 33:11 we read:

“And the Lord spake unto Moses face to face, as a man speaketh unto his friend.”

That sounds very different from verse 20. If Moses had already spoken with God “face to face,” then verse 20 can’t mean that it is absolutely impossible for any mortal to ever see God under any circumstances.

So what is happening?

Latter-day Saints understand Exodus 33:20 to mean that fallen, mortal man cannot endure the full glory of God by his own natural strength. God’s glory is so overwhelming that mortal flesh cannot withstand it unless God Himself intervenes.

The very next chapter helps explain this idea. Exodus 34 describes Moses descending from Mount Sinai after being in the Lord’s presence. His own face shone so brightly that the Israelites were afraid to come near him. If merely being in God’s presence caused Moses’ face to radiate with glory, imagine the glory of God Himself.

The scriptures contain several examples of God strengthening individuals so they could endure His presence.

One of the clearest examples is Moses’ vision recorded in the Pearl of Great Price. There, we learn something that is not found in the King James Version of Exodus.

In Moses 1:2 we read:

“And he saw God face to face, and he talked with him, and the glory of God was upon Moses; therefore Moses could endure his presence.”

That last phrase is important: “the glory of God was upon Moses; therefore Moses could endure his presence.”

Moses did not survive God’s presence because he was naturally capable of doing so. He survived because God clothed him with divine glory and power.

Later, after the vision ended, Moses lost that heavenly strength and said:

“Now, for this cause I know that man is nothing, which thing I never had supposed.” (Moses 1:10)

This fits perfectly with the Latter-day Saint understanding of Exodus 33:20. Mortals cannot simply walk into God’s presence in their fallen condition. But God can prepare, strengthen, or transform a person so they can safely behold Him.

Joseph Smith’s First Vision follows that same pattern.

Joseph described praying in a grove of trees when he was overcome by a dark power. After calling upon God, he saw a pillar of light descend from heaven.

He wrote:

“When the light rested upon me I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description, standing above me in the air.”

Notice Joseph’s emphasis on their “brightness and glory.” This was no ordinary experience. It was a divine manifestation in which God revealed Himself to a prepared servant.

Latter-day Saints believe that Heavenly Father can reveal Himself whenever He chooses and can preserve the life of the person receiving that revelation. Joseph did not survive because God’s glory somehow became less glorious. He survived because God made it possible.

In fact, the scriptures contain many examples of people seeing God or divine beings.

Isaiah saw the Lord seated upon His throne (Isaiah 6).

Ezekiel saw a glorious heavenly vision (Ezekiel 1).

Stephen, just before his martyrdom, declared:

“Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God.” (Acts 7:56)

The Apostle John saw the Father and the Son in vision throughout the book of Revelation.

Even in the Old Testament, Jacob declared:

“I have seen God face to face, and my life is preserved.” (Genesis 32:30)

Notice Jacob’s wording. He specifically acknowledges that his life had been preserved. That idea harmonizes beautifully with the Latter-day Saint understanding that seeing God is only possible because God preserves the individual.

Some Bible scholars also point out that Exodus 33:20 may have been referring to seeing the fullness of God’s glory. Earlier in the chapter, Moses had asked, “I beseech thee, shew me thy glory” (Exodus 33:18). God’s response may have been explaining that no mortal could behold the complete fulness of His glory in their natural condition.

Whether understood that way or through latter-day revelation, the principle is the same: God’s glory is overwhelming to fallen mankind, but He can enable whom He chooses to endure His presence.

This understanding is one of the reasons Latter-day Saints do not see a contradiction between Exodus 33:20 and Joseph Smith’s First Vision. Instead, they see a consistent pattern throughout scripture.

Whenever God reveals Himself to mortals, He also gives them the strength, protection, or transformation necessary to survive the experience.

The First Vision wasn’t an exception to the rule—it was another example of it.

Ultimately, Exodus 33:20 teaches us something profound about God’s majesty. His glory is far beyond anything mortal beings can naturally withstand. But it also teaches us something equally comforting: when God desires to reveal Himself, He has the power to prepare His children to receive that blessing.

Joseph Smith’s testimony that he saw Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ fits naturally within that biblical pattern. The same God who strengthened Moses, preserved Jacob, and opened the heavens to Stephen also preserved a 14-year-old boy in a grove of trees, allowing him to witness the beginning of the Restoration.

Gramps

Gramps,

I’ve heard a lot of people say god can do anything He wants. I truly know He has the power to do all. But does he do what He wants or is He bound by laws or rules as we are?

Mel

Answer

Mel,

One of the most common statements you’ll hear is, “God can do anything He wants.”

In one sense, that’s absolutely true. God possesses all power. He created worlds without number, commands the elements, knows the end from the beginning, and has power over life and death. There is nothing beyond His ability.

But according to the doctrine of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, there’s an important distinction between having unlimited power and using that power however He pleases.

The restored gospel teaches that God is not arbitrary. He doesn’t simply make up the rules as He goes. Instead, He governs the universe according to eternal laws, perfect justice, and absolute truth. That may sound limiting at first, but it’s actually one of the greatest reasons we can trust Him.

The scriptures repeatedly teach that God possesses all power, but they also emphasize that His character never changes. Moroni testified that God is “unchangeable from all eternity to all eternity” (Moroni 8:18), while the Apostle Paul declared that God “cannot lie” (Titus 1:2). Those passages don’t suggest that God lacks power. Rather, they teach that He is so perfectly righteous that He will never act contrary to His own divine nature. His inability to lie isn’t a weakness—it is evidence of His perfection.

One of the beautiful truths restored through Joseph Smith is that eternal laws are real and unchanging. Rather than teaching that blessings are handed out arbitrarily, the Lord revealed:

“There is a law, irrevocably decreed in heaven before the foundations of this world, upon which all blessings are predicated.”

He then explains that whenever we receive a blessing from God, it comes “by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated” (Doctrine and Covenants 130:20–21).

That tells us something important about God’s character. He doesn’t bless or withhold blessings based on changing emotions or favoritism. He governs according to eternal principles that are perfectly just and perfectly reliable.

Perhaps the clearest explanation of this principle comes from Alma. While teaching about the Atonement, he twice states that if justice were destroyed—or if mercy robbed justice—”God would cease to be God” (Alma 42:13, 25).

Those are remarkable words.

Sometimes people wonder why Heavenly Father couldn’t simply forgive everyone without requiring the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Alma explains that justice is an eternal reality. Rather than setting justice aside, Heavenly Father provided a Savior who could satisfy the demands of justice while extending mercy to all who repent. God’s plan works because both justice and mercy are perfectly honored.

This principle also helps us understand why God values our agency so highly. Certainly, He has the power to force obedience, eliminate temptation, or prevent every wrong choice. But doing so would undermine the very purpose of mortality.

Our time on earth is meant to be a time of learning, growth, and choosing good over evil. If God removed our ability to choose, we could never truly become like Him. Although He sometimes intervenes through miracles, inspiration, or protection, He generally allows us to exercise our agency because that agency is an essential part of His eternal plan.

President Dallin H. Oaks expressed this principle beautifully:

“God’s love is so perfect that He lovingly requires us to obey His commandments because He knows that only through obedience to His laws can we become perfected as He is. (Love and Law)

That statement reminds us that God’s laws are not arbitrary restrictions. They are expressions of His love. Every commandment He gives is intended to help us become more like Him and prepare us for eternal life.

The Bible reinforces this same truth when the Lord declares, “I am the Lord, I change not” (Malachi 3:6). Because His character never changes, we know exactly what kind of Being He is. He is perfectly loving, perfectly truthful, perfectly merciful, and perfectly just. His standards don’t shift with changing circumstances or popular opinion.

Some people ask whether this means God is somehow limited by laws that are greater than He is. Latter-day Saints generally see it differently. God isn’t subject to arbitrary rules imposed by someone else. Rather, eternal law is perfectly consistent with His own divine nature. He always chooses what is eternally true because He is perfectly true. He always acts justly because He is perfectly just. He always acts lovingly because He is perfectly loving.

That doesn’t diminish His power—it magnifies His perfection.

Understanding this changes the way we view Heavenly Father. When life seems unfair, we can trust that He isn’t making random decisions. When blessings don’t come as quickly as we hope, we can remember that He governs according to eternal laws we may not yet fully understand. And when He asks us to obey His commandments, we can know they are given out of perfect love rather than arbitrary authority.

The restored gospel teaches that God truly is all-powerful. Nothing can frustrate His ultimate purposes, and His knowledge and power are beyond our comprehension. Yet His power is always exercised in perfect harmony with truth, justice, mercy, agency, and love.

Perhaps that’s one of the most comforting doctrines of all. We worship a God whose power is infinite, whose character is perfect, and whose promises never fail. He doesn’t simply do whatever He wants. He always does what is right. And because His nature never changes, we can place complete confidence in Him, knowing that everything He does is motivated by perfect wisdom, perfect justice, and perfect love.

Gramps

Gramps,

Why did God the Father formulate a plan of salvation that required the sacrifice of one of his sons in order for redemption to be made available?  Why was there no other way that could not include the immense suffering of one individual?  Which holy scriptural author best describes the need for the atonement of one, Jesus Christ?

David

Answer

David,

One of the deepest questions in all of religion is this: Why did Heavenly Father create a plan of salvation that required the suffering and sacrifice of Jesus Christ? If God is all-powerful, why could He not simply forgive His children without requiring the immense suffering of one of His sons?

Latter-day Saint doctrine teaches that the answer lies in the eternal nature of God, the reality of agency, and the unchanging laws of justice and mercy. The Atonement of Jesus Christ was not an arbitrary requirement. It was the only way to satisfy both justice and mercy while preserving our agency and allowing us to return to God’s presence.

To understand why, we first need to understand the problem the Atonement was meant to solve.

Before coming to earth, we lived as spirit children of Heavenly Father. His plan provided a way for us to receive physical bodies, learn through experience, and eventually become more like Him. But He also knew that every one of us would make mistakes and commit sin.

The scriptures teach that “no unclean thing can dwell with God” (1 Nephi 10:21). Because all people sin, every one of us would be separated from God forever if there were no redemption.

In addition, mortality brought physical death. Every person would eventually die and be separated from his or her body.

Humanity, therefore, faced two obstacles:

1. Physical death.
2. Spiritual death caused by sin.

Without divine intervention, neither obstacle could be overcome.

Some people wonder why God could not simply overlook sin. The Book of Mormon gives a profound answer. God is perfectly loving, but He is also perfectly just. If justice did not exist, there would be no meaningful consequences for good or evil.

The prophet Alma taught:

“Now, if there was no law given—if a man murdered he should die? … If there was no law given against sin men would not be afraid to sin” (Alma 42:17).

Justice requires that laws have consequences. If God simply ignored sin, He would cease to be a perfectly just God. Yet if justice alone prevailed, every person would stand condemned because all have sinned. This is where mercy enters the picture. The challenge was not merely finding a way to forgive sinners. The challenge was finding a way for mercy to operate without destroying justice.

Alma explained:

“The plan of mercy could not be brought about except an atonement should be made” (Alma 42:15).

That simple statement may be one of the clearest explanations in all scripture. Mercy could not function without an atonement. The Atonement was not merely one option among many. It was the means by which both justice and mercy could be preserved.

Among all scriptural authors, Alma likely provides the most complete explanation of why the Atonement was necessary. His teachings in Alma 34 and Alma 42 explain not only that Christ would save mankind, but why such a sacrifice was required in the first place.

In Alma 34, the prophet Amulek taught that redemption required “an infinite and eternal sacrifice” (Alma 34:10). Animal sacrifices under the law of Moses could symbolize the future Messiah, but they could not actually redeem humanity. Only a divine and infinite sacrifice could satisfy the demands of justice for all people.

Jesus Christ alone was qualified to make that sacrifice.

Because He was the Only Begotten Son of God in the flesh and lived a completely sinless life, He had no debt of His own to pay. He voluntarily offered Himself before the foundation of the world to become the Savior of mankind.

As Christ Himself declared:

“I lay down my life, that I might take it again. No man taketh it from me, but I lay it down of myself” (John 10:17-18).

The Savior was not an unwilling victim. He willingly chose to suffer for us.

Modern apostles have emphasized this truth. President Dallin H. Oaks taught that Christ’s mission was absolutely central to the Father’s plan:

“He has done everything that is essential for our journey through mortality toward the destiny outlined in the plan of our Heavenly Father.” (“What Has Our Savior Done for Us?” April 2021 General Conference)

The Atonement was not a backup plan or an emergency measure. It was the very heart of the Father’s plan from the beginning.

Still, another question often arises: Why did the suffering have to be so immense?

Doctrine and Covenants 19 teaches that Christ suffered “both body and spirit” and that His suffering caused Him to “bleed at every pore” (D&C 19:18).

The answer is that Christ did not merely pay a symbolic price. He descended below all things. He experienced the full weight of mortality so He could redeem us completely and understand us perfectly.

Alma prophesied:

“And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind… that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities” (Alma 7:11-12).

President Oaks similarly taught:

“He had no debt to pay. He had committed no wrong.” (“Strengthened by the Atonement of Jesus Christ,” October 2015 General Conference)

Yet the Savior willingly bore humanity’s guilt, pain, sorrow, and suffering. Because Christ personally experienced every kind of suffering, He knows exactly how to help us in our own trials.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland beautifully described this aspect of the Savior’s sacrifice when he testified:

“We will never be left alone nor unaided.” (“None Were with Him,” April 2009 General Conference)

That assurance comes because Jesus Christ has walked the path of suffering before us.

Through His Resurrection, Christ overcame physical death for every person who has ever lived. Through His atoning sacrifice, He made repentance and forgiveness possible for all who come unto Him.

The reach of His sacrifice is truly infinite. Elder Holland taught:

“It is not possible for you to sink lower than the infinite light of Christ’s Atonement shines.” (“The Laborers in the Vineyard,” April 2012 General Conference)

No one is beyond the Savior’s ability to redeem. No sorrow is beyond His understanding. No repentant soul is beyond His reach.

In the end, the question is not simply why suffering was required. The greater lesson is what that suffering reveals about God. It reveals that Heavenly Father loved His children enough to provide a Savior. It reveals that Jesus Christ loved us enough to willingly suffer for us. It reveals that justice would not be abandoned, but neither would mercy.

The Atonement demonstrates both God’s perfect holiness and His perfect love. Through Jesus Christ, justice is satisfied, mercy is extended, agency is preserved, and the way is opened for God’s children to return home.

That is why Latter-day Saints view the Atonement of Jesus Christ not merely as one doctrine among many, but as the very center of the Father’s plan of salvation. And among scriptural writers, perhaps no one explains that necessity more clearly than Alma, who taught that “the plan of mercy could not be brought about except an atonement should be made” (Alma 42:15). In that single verse, he summarized why the sacrifice of Jesus Christ was not merely helpful—it was absolutely essential.

Gramps

Gramps,

And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might. What does this mean exactly?

Kerry

Answer

Kerry,

One of the most repeated commandments in scripture is also one of the most personal:

“And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might.” (Deuteronomy 6:5)

Jesus later called this the “first and great commandment” in Matthew 22:37-38. For members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, this verse is much more than a poetic phrase. It is a description of discipleship itself. But what does it actually mean to love God with all our heart, soul, and might?

LDS theology teaches that this commandment is not about perfection overnight. It is about devotion, covenant loyalty, and gradually giving our entire lives to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.

The “heart” in scripture usually refers to our desires, affections, and priorities. Loving God with all our hearts means He becomes the center of our lives rather than an afterthought.

President Ezra Taft Benson taught:

“When we put God first, all other things fall into their proper place or drop out of our lives.”  (The Great Commandment—Love the Lord)

That statement captures the idea perfectly. Loving God with our hearts means our relationship with Him shapes every other relationship and decision. It influences how we spend our time, how we treat family members, what we choose to watch, how we speak to people, and even what we think about when nobody else is around.

This does not mean faithful people never struggle spiritually. Even devoted disciples have doubts, moments of weakness, or periods where they feel distant from God. In LDS belief, loving God is shown less through flawless performance and more through continual turning toward Him.

The Savior Himself said:

“If ye love me, keep my commandments.” (John 14:15)

In other words, love is not merely emotional. It is active. It is demonstrated through obedience, repentance, worship, and covenant keeping.

The word “soul” carries deep meaning in LDS theology. In Doctrine and Covenants 88:15, we learn:

“A the spirit and the body are the soul of man.”

So loving God with all our souls means offering our entire being—both spiritually and physically—to Him.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland once taught:

“The great thing about the gospel is we get credit for trying, even if we don’t always succeed.”  (Tomorrow the Lord Will Do Wonders among You)

That perspective matters because loving God with all our souls does not mean never failing. It means our whole selves are pointed toward Christ, even as we continue to grow.

This kind of love affects both spiritual and temporal aspects of life. It includes:

• Prayer
• Scripture study
• Temple worship
• Serving others
• Repentance
• Developing Christlike attributes
• Caring for our physical bodies
• Using talents to bless others

LDS theology teaches that discipleship is holistic. God cares about our spiritual lives, but He also cares about what we are becoming as eternal beings.

President Russell M. Nelson explained:

“If we do the best we can, the Lord will bless us according to our deeds and the desires of our hearts.” (Perfection Pending)

That short statement resonates with many Latter-day Saints because it reminds us that wholehearted devotion matters deeply to God. He is not waiting for us to become instantly perfect before accepting our love.

The word “might” suggests strength, energy, and action. Loving God with all our might means giving Him our best efforts, not leftovers.

This can include obvious things like serving in Church callings, ministering, missionary work, or helping those in need. But it also applies to daily life: showing patience with children, working honestly, defending truth kindly, or choosing integrity when nobody is watching.

Elder David A. Bednar taught:

“True devotion to God is motivated by love and gratitude rather than fear or obligation alone.” (paraphrased)

That distinction is important. In LDS theology, loving God with all our might is not about exhausting ourselves trying to earn heaven. Salvation comes only through the grace of Jesus Christ. Rather, our efforts are a response to His love and sacrifice.

When someone truly loves God, they naturally want to serve Him.

One word appears repeatedly in this commandment: all.

God does not ask for part of our heart on Sundays and the rest during the week for worldly priorities. He invites complete devotion. That can sound intimidating at first, but LDS doctrine emphasizes that this process happens gradually through the Savior’s help.

President Dieter F. Uchtdorf said:

“God does not look on the outward appearance.” (The Hope of God’s Light)

The Lord understands our weaknesses perfectly. He knows when we are sincerely trying to follow Him, even when we stumble.

This commandment is therefore less about achieving spiritual intensity every moment of every day and more about the direction of our lives. Are we moving toward God? Are we allowing Him to shape us? Are we willing to place Him first?

That is what covenant discipleship looks like.

Interestingly, Jesus connected loving God directly to loving people. After naming the first great commandment, He immediately added:

“Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.” (Matthew 22:39)

According to LDS theology, these commandments cannot really be separated. The more we love God, the more we begin to see others the way He sees them.

President Thomas S. Monson often emphasized simple Christlike service. He famously taught:

“Never let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved.” (Finding Joy in the Journey)

That kind of charity flows naturally from genuine love for God.

So what does it mean to love the Lord with all our heart, soul, and might?

In LDS theology, it means giving Him our desires, our devotion, our energy, our loyalty, and ultimately our entire lives. It means striving to place Him first while relying completely on the grace of Jesus Christ.

It does not require instant perfection. It does require sincerity.

As disciples of Christ grow in faith, repentance, covenant keeping, and service, their love for God deepens. Over time, loving God becomes less about obligation and more about transformation. The heart changes. The soul changes. Life itself changes.

And perhaps that is the real purpose of the commandment—not simply to measure our love for God, but to help us become more like Him.

Gramps

]]> https://askgramps.org/what-does-loving-god-with-all-our-heart-soul-and-mind-mean/feed/ 0 https://askgramps.org/what-mean-god-is-unchanging/ https://askgramps.org/what-mean-god-is-unchanging/#respond Wed, 11 Mar 2026 08:00:28 +0000 https://askgramps.org/?p=72252 Question

Gramps,

What does it mean when we say God is unchanging?

Sariah

Answer

Sariah,

Gramps

Gramps,

What does the Church say about those people who die because of natural disasters? And why does God allow this?

N

Answer

N,

Members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints believe that our mortal life is not meant to be a paradise devoid of difficulty; rather, it is perfectly suited to the purpose for which God intended this world. The doctrine holds that mortality is a test—a period designed by our Heavenly Father to allow His children the space and agency to develop, learn, choose, and ultimately grow to become like Him.

So why not a perfect world? A perfect, challenge-free world would not allow for agency, growth, or development. How can we be tested if there are no tests or challenges in life? Trials, adversity, suffering, and even natural disasters are not arbitrary punishments but necessary parts of the journey. Without trials or choices, humanity would be reduced to creatures of instinct, incapable of true moral agency or independent growth.

To act for ourselves and not simply to be acted upon is part of God’s higher law for His children. Scriptural passages such as Moses 6:56 and 2 Nephi 2:26 teach that humankind is free “to act for themselves and not to be acted upon.” This autonomy is part of God’s great gift to man—agency—which allows us the dignity to choose between good and evil, to respond to hardship with compassion, to rise above adversity, and to become more than mere products of circumstance.

This principle goes even further: We alone, among all of our Heavenly Father’s creations, have this unique ability to respond with knowledge and wisdom rather than instinct. We are not merely creatures of reflex.

A foundational doctrine in the Church’s faith tradition is the concept of the fallen world, stemming from Adam and Eve’s choices in the Garden of Eden. After the Fall, humankind became subject to physical death, pain, suffering, and separation from God. The consequence is a world in which both moral evil (evil choices made by humans) and natural evil (suffering from natural causes) can occur.

This fallen state is not the result of God creating or willing evil; rather, it’s the necessary environment for learning and growth. To live in a fallen world means that we have become physically and spiritually separated from our Heavenly Father and are subject to physical death and the opposition in both joy and sorrow. The Fall was a divinely orchestrated step, but the introduction of suffering and evil comes from the consequences of agency and separation from God.

Importantly, the Church teaches that our Heavenly Father is incapable of creating evil. The Book of Mormon states: “All things which are good cometh of God; and that which is evil cometh of the devil” (Moroni 7:12). God allows evil so His children can exercise their free agency, while promising comfort, eventual justice, and the compensation of all unfairness.

One reason suffering persists, even among the innocent, is the principle of agency—a divine gift that sustains all human growth and experience. Agency comes with the risk that some will choose evil over good, causing others to suffer.

But what of suffering caused by nature—earthquakes, disease, famine—where no human agency is directly involved? Here, the Church’s teachings propose that the laws of nature are a neutral framework. The world, at times, can be a very cruel place. Evil committed by fellow humans is tragic, but it’s easier to comprehend than suffering brought on by nature…If humankind had never originally rebelled, nature would be very different. There would be no natural disasters.

God often does not intervene in the natural course of physical law, for to do so would compromise the very test that mortal life is meant to be. I truly believe that He isn’t sitting on His heavenly throne orchestrating car crashes, illnesses, and so on, but He does allow certain things to happen. … The basic gospel law is free agency and eternal development. For our growth, God will not shield us from every disappointment, temptation, sorrow, or pain. To do so would rob us of the learning and empathy that adversity produces.

Paradoxically, tragedy often reveals humanity’s greatest goodness. The Church teaches that while mortality is filled with calamity, the great secret about humanity is that we alone have the power to rise above it. And if we only focus on the calamities of this world, we will never be worthy of that precious jewel that is called ‘The Human Spirit.’

When disaster strikes—whether it be earthquake, disease, or war—individuals and communities rally to offer aid, comfort, and service. The darkest events often inspire the most shining examples of love, courage, and sacrifice. As the Bible puts it, “Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world” (James 1:27).

Suffering forges empathy and builds character. It gives occasion not only for individual growth but for the exercise of community, charity, and nobility. Without need, there could be no service; without adversity, there could be no true heroism, compassion, or spiritual development. The Church’s perspective suggests that the conditions of a testing ground provoke both suffering and the opportunities for sublime responses to that suffering.

Yet the dilemma remains: what of innocent children who suffer needlessly, or people who experience seemingly random, overwhelming tragedy? The Church acknowledges the immense pain and grief these situations cause. A compassionate response is not theoretical; it is lived and felt.

For those who suffer innocently, especially children, the Church holds forth the promise of divine compensation: The innocent who suffer will be recompensed for their suffering, such that it will accrue to their good. Little children who die will inherit the glory of the celestial kingdom—a recompense far greater than the suffering that they had to endure.

Furthermore, scripture contains the Lord’s assurance: “All things wherewith you have been afflicted shall work together for your good, and to my name’s glory, saith the Lord” (Doctrine & Covenants 98:3). The belief is that present suffering, grievous as it may be, will in the eternal perspective be swallowed up in joy, understanding, and growth. Even the most senseless tragedies will find redress in God’s ultimate plan.

A common struggle is the fear that natural disasters or diseases are divine punishment. When calamity strikes, some wonder if God is angry, if the righteous and the wicked alike are subject to indiscriminate wrath.

The Brethren have not said anything about COVID being either God’s judgments on the wicked or the plagues of the Revelation of John. Historically, natural disasters have affected both the righteous and the wicked. When suffering appears indiscriminate, rather than as targeted judgment, two conclusions suggest themselves: either it is a random act of nature, or our understanding of righteousness and wickedness is incomplete.

Scripture teaches that not all suffering is punitive. In John 9:1-4, Jesus addresses a man born blind, stating that neither he nor his parents sinned, but “that the works of God should be made manifest in him.” Sometimes, suffering is permitted so that compassion, faith, and God’s purposes can ultimately be realized.

The greatest example of innocent suffering is Jesus Christ Himself. The Son of God suffered more than any of us will ever suffer.” Through His atoning sacrifice, Christ voluntarily submitted to the agony of bodily, emotional, and spiritual pain. In so doing, He demonstrated the possibility of ultimate growth, mercy, and redemption through suffering.

The promise given to disciples is not that suffering will be eliminated in this life, but that believers will not be left comfortless. For the pioneers, He strengthened the women physically by providing nourishment to their babies through them, despite the caloric demands of their walking. He strengthened them spiritually by relieving their weaknesses, which quelled the murmuring. Difficulties don’t disappear, commandments aren’t always revoked, but we can be strengthened.

May we comfort one another, deepen our faith, and seek understanding, trusting that one day, every injustice will be made right and every innocent life will be crowned with glory.

Gramps

Gramps,

Recently I have had a string of small trials that keep testing my patience and faith. At times, I have feelings that God might be punishing me for something I have done wrong or something I am not doing, but I am not sure what. Sometimes I think that during my youth, it was ingrained in me to fear God too much, and I catch myself feeling very guilty for the little mistakes I make. At times, my prayers distance me from God because I feel ashamed of my weaknesses and mistakes. Does God punish us?

Richard

Answer

Richard,

Few doctrines raise more questions than the scriptures that say we must “suffer even as [Christ]” if we do not repent (Doctrine & Covenants 19:15-20). On the one hand, God’s omnibenevolence—His perfect, fatherly love—is a bedrock tenet of Christian faith. On the other hand, scriptures declare that “wickedness never was happiness” (Alma 41:10) and describe the pain of the unrepentant in some of the most severe language in sacred scripture. Is such suffering a punishment imposed by a wrathful God, or is something deeper and more purposeful at work?

Early Christian thinkers often painted a picture of a distant, even cruel God, as Terryl and Fiona Givens, in their book The God Who Weeps: How Mormonism Makes Sense of Life observed: “Theologian Peter Abelard agreed, as have countless others, that the very behavior in which God freely indulged, treating His creatures ‘in whatever way God may wish to,’ would be ‘deemed the summit of injustice among men.’” Later, the infamous sermon “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God” likened God to one holding “you over the pit of hell, much as one holds a spider, or some loathsome insect over the fire, [and] abhors you.”

However, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints teaches a different view: God is not capricious or cruel, but a loving Father to whom our joy and suffering matter deeply. The Givenses write, “God is invested in our lives and happiness, because He chooses to be a Father to us. His concern with human sin is with the pain and suffering it produces. Sympathy and sorrow, not anger and vengeance, are the emotions we must look to in order to plumb the nature of the divine response to sin.”

When the scriptures speak of God’s wrath, it is typically an expression of His justice—the needed foundation for faith. If God were not just, if He didn’t reward and punish according to predictable laws, it wouldn’t matter whether we believed in Him or were obedient—we would receive from Him arbitrarily. Thankfully, God is just and reserves His wrath for those who defy Him, and pours His mercy out liberally.

Sin, then, is not simply a broken rule. It is a condition—a spiritual illness that separates us from God’s nature of joy and love. “Sin itself is a condition we assume when we place ourselves in opposition to those moral laws that undergird the structure of existence,” the Givenses explain. “The intensity of His response to sin is commensurate with the intensity of that pain He knows sin will entail, and in which He has already chosen to share. For He is the God who weeps.”

A key doctrine in the restored gospel is that punishment for sin is primarily a natural consequence, not an external imposition. The scriptures and modern prophets teach that God does not desire for us to suffer, but they also warn that if we walk off the edge of a cliff, we must fall, and if we do not turn on the light, we must sit in darkness. Suffering for unrepentant sin is the inevitable result of our choices: Being like God is being on the path of peace and happiness; any deviation leads to suffering. This is a simple consequence. Our Heavenly Father knows this. He also knows we will fall short and sin. This is why He sent Jesus Christ. This is why Christ suffered for our sins.

Punishment, then, is not a vindictive act of God, but a result of moving contrary to the eternal laws that bring joy. The commandments are the beacon lights of greater realities that define the cosmic streams in which we swim—they “lead us to a condition of optimal joyfulness. When we choose otherwise, we are then no more than a swimmer thrashing furiously, confident of our powerful strokes, but swept along nevertheless, a captive of the prevailing tides.

Doctrine & Covenants 19:15-20 clarifies that Jesus Christ suffered for all, “that they might not suffer if they would repent.” If we reject repentance, we “must suffer even as I, which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore.” This suffering is not merely emotional or existential: it is a spiritual agony, a consuming recognition of having placed oneself outside the circle of divine love and harmony—what King Benjamin describes as “an awful view of their own guilt and abominations, which doth cause them to shrink from the presence of the Lord into a state of misery and endless torment.”

This brings us to the heart of the gospel: justice and mercy “cannot be robbed” (Alma 42:25). The demands of justice require that all debts incurred by sin be paid. Yet, the genius of God’s plan is that mercy allows another to pay the debt if they are able—and only Jesus Christ, because of His infinite Atonement, was able and willing to do so.

The suffering of Christ for the sins of the world was not just to satisfy an impersonal justice, but to create a way back—a ladder, a light switch, a path home. The Lord repeatedly invites all to use this atoning power, warning only that if we do not, “then justice has its full claim on us.”

The Church teaches, through both scripture and modern prophets, that no one is condemned simply because they are ignorant of the gospel or because of circumstances outside their control. All who have lived upon the face of the earth will be judged according to their works and the desires of their hearts. In essence, it is our individual choices and desires of our hearts that either redeem or condemn us. Everyone will have the opportunity to accept the gospel, in this life or the next, and to accept the terms of Christ’s offer.

Thus, it is not God who forces suffering for its own sake, but His refusal to nullify the law of agency. God has given all of us agency to act. Unfortunately, some are victims of others’ agency. Even this is accounted for perfectly in His plan: The innocent who suffer will be recompensed for their suffering, such that it will accrue to their good. Little children who are put to death will inherit the glory of the celestial kingdom—a recompense far greater than the suffering that they had to endure.

Does God weep at our sin and pain? The answer is a resounding yes. In the vision of Enoch (Moses 7), the Lord wept as He observed humanity’s suffering and hate: “His soul was grieved for the misery of Israel.” He is not a detached, disinterested deity, but hostage in some way to His limitless love. In the words of the Givenses, “Sympathy and sorrow, not anger and vengeance, are the emotions we must look to in order to plumb the nature of the divine response to sin.”

The divine solution is not to eliminate suffering at the cost of agency, but to redeem it—making it bearable, meaningful, and ultimately temporary within the scope of eternity. By suffering, we gain strength of character if we know how to bear it. We may also learn something of compassion … Thus, we may change our characters to be more Christlike.

We must trust, as mortals, that “all things wherewith you have been afflicted shall work together for your good, and to my name’s glory, saith the Lord” (Doctrine & Covenants 98:3). The Atonement assures that suffering—ours or Christ’s—will not be wasted, and that God, who weeps, is ever working to redeem and restore.

The teachings of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints point to a God who both loves and honors the moral freedom of His children, who suffered Himself in the person of Christ to offer us a way out of pain, and who provides for justice and mercy in perfect harmony. To suffer for our own sins is not a punishment imposed by a capricious God, but a consequence of our own choices in refusing the healing given freely through repentance and Jesus Christ’s Atonement.

This doctrine does not trivialize pain or justify evil; instead, it invites us to trust in the process of spiritual growth, to rely on the Atonement, and to readily seek repentance. It is a clarion call not to fear God’s justice, but to embrace His mercy—a mercy that is as infinite and personal as the love of the God who weeps for us.

Gramps

Gramps,

Why does God expect faith on such a distant level, without definite interaction or proof? In every religion, faith is an absolute necessity for finding truth, which suggests that no one really has better reasoning. Even with the evidence, we’re still expected to have faith until we gain a spiritual witness, which could just be a foolish illusion based on the lies of others. Why can’t we all see an angel just once, so that for the rest of our lives we can practice our faith with a more intimate knowledge of Him? We’d still have our agency, but then we would have solid evidence.

John

Answer

John,

In the scriptures, faith is consistently described as a principle that relates to things not seen or fully known: “Faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things; therefore if ye have faith ye hope for things which are not seen, which are true” (Alma 32:21). Similarly, Hebrews states, “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1).

Why does faith require this element of the unseen? Terryl Givens argues that for faith to be meaningful,

“There must be grounds for doubt as well as belief, in order to render the choice more truly a choice, and therefore the more deliberate, and laden with personal vulnerability and investment. An overwhelming preponderance of evidence on either side would make our choice as meaningless as would a loaded gun pointed at our heads.”

In other words, if there were no space for doubt—if either belief or skepticism were the only intellectually viable option—faith itself would cease to exist as a genuine, moral choice.

This interplay between faith and doubt is reflected in the very structure of Latter-day Saint theology. The mortal experience is designed to be a walk by faith, not by sight, a time intentionally set apart from direct knowledge of God’s presence. Our inability to see or fully prove the divine in this life is not an accident, but a central feature of God’s plan—a condition that allows the true desires of our hearts to be revealed through the choices we make.

A common struggle is the desire to eradicate doubt entirely—seeking after perfect knowledge before committing in faith. The scientific method for gaining knowledge is based on the principle of doubt… The religious method for gaining knowledge is quite the opposite. It is based on the principle of faith. We must accept the proposition as being true before the proof. We then put it into practice as though we knew it was true. If it is indeed true, it will be demonstrated to be so by our experience. As a result of that experience, we will know that it is true.

This experimental method is outlined in Alma 32, where faith is compared to planting a seed: the initial act must be based on hope and willingness, long before the fruit can be seen. Only after nurturing and experimenting upon the word does knowledge begin to replace faith. But even then, according to many leaders and thinkers, new realms of faith appear as we seek higher knowledge or face new challenges.

Even God, as understood in Latter-day Saint doctrine, is associated with both knowledge and faith—but in different senses than mortals. God’s faith is independent, the very basis of all creation, while mortals must choose trust in things they cannot yet see or prove. “Faith… is the first great governing principle which has power, dominion, and authority over all things; by it they exist, by it they are upheld, by it they are changed, or by it they remain, agreeable to the will of God. Without it, there is no power, and without power, there could be no creation nor existence!

So while mortals often struggle in the dynamic between belief and doubt, it is this very tension that fosters agency and allows faith to become an expression of the self, rather than a compelled response to irrefutable evidence.

Why does God not simply reveal Himself to all, erasing doubt and uncertainty? The answer is in the purpose of mortality. The purpose of our lives here and now is to see if we will come to God, if we will seek him and serve him, even when we can’t see or hear him. As 2 Corinthians 5:7 tells us, ‘For we walk by faith, not by sight.’ Why? The purpose seems to be to discover the true desires of our hearts.”

This mortal test is not trivial. If faith were unnecessary—if God’s reality and expectations were overwhelming and undeniable—the crucial work of nurturing a willing, loving heart would be impossible. God wants us to choose Him because our hearts and hopes align with His plan, not because the evidence simply compels us to believe. That’s not the kind of belief that God is after. That creates drones, not disciples.”

It is precisely in the ambiguity and openness of mortal experience—where both belief and doubt have rational grounds—that genuine, meaningful agency emerges. As Terryl Givens writes: “The call to faith, in this light, is not some test of a coy god, waiting to see if we ‘get it right.’ It is the only summons, issued under the only conditions, which can allow us fully to reveal who we are, what we most love, and what we most devoutly desire.”

Some Latter-day Saints find their doubts intensified by encountering diverse beliefs or spiritual witnesses among people of other faiths—sometimes just as powerful as their own experiences. How can our faith be true if people from other faiths also get spiritual confirmation regarding their religion?” is a real question with no easy one-line answer.

The Latter-day Saint perspective emphasizes that God’s love extends to all His children, answering prayers, revealing truth “line upon line,” and respecting the individual’s spiritual journey. Inspiration, revelation, and even spiritual confirmation are complex processes that coexist with opposition, human interpretation, and gradual unfolding over time.

Furthermore, leaders and theologians counsel patience in the face of unanswered questions or apparent contradictions. The fact is that in the realm of faith (which is the realm of religion), there will always be unanswered questions. Questions are an intrinsic characteristic of faith itself. If there weren’t questions, it wouldn’t be faith. God leaves room for questions so that faith can exist, and even grow. Rather than viewing doubt as a threat, members are invited to see it as the necessary soil in which living faith can grow, driving continual seeking and growth.

It is one thing to assert belief in Christ, and another to act in accordance with that belief. Passive faith is a simple statement of belief, but active faith is belief in action—repenting, loving, seeking revelation, and serving. Only in facing doubts and striving forward does faith become transformative, shaping character rather than simply affirming an intellectual stance.

Sometimes, God’s invitation to faith involves placing difficult issues “on the shelf” until more light is available. Rather than ignoring unanswered questions, this approach acknowledges that limited understanding is an inescapable feature of mortal existence—but one that allows ongoing revelation and a deeper relationship with God over time.

Gramps

Gramps,

In Exodus 19:5, why did God pick out one particular people to be especially favored above all other people?

Brad

Answer

Brad,

If you’ve ever asked these questions, you’re not alone. Generations have struggled to understand the nature of God as revealed in ancient times—especially when compared with New Testament teachings and modern revelation. So let’s talk about this challenging topic through a uniquely Latter-day Saint lens, drawing on scriptural insights, historical context, and prophetic commentary. Ultimately, we will see that understanding the God of the Old Testament requires careful attention to His purposes, His covenants, and our own relationship to Him.

The first key to understanding the God of the Old Testament is to consider the context in which these scriptures were written. The Bible—especially the books detailing the history of Israel—deals primarily with God’s relationship to the House of Israel. As pointed out in answers to questions about the severity of Old Testament narratives, much of the text is a record of God’s dealings with a covenant people who, despite great blessings, repeatedly struggled with apostasy, disobedience, and idolatry.

For instance, after the children of Israel were delivered from slavery in Egypt, they quickly turned to worshiping a golden calf while Moses was on Mount Sinai receiving the law. In response to their disobedience, Moses broke the original tablets. The people’s subsequent history is a cycle of receiving blessings, falling into idolatry, being chastened or punished, repenting, and then (temporarily) returning to God. The severity with which God is described as dealing with Israel is not arbitrary cruelty, but the necessary discipline of a people who had entered into a covenant with Him, promising obedience in return for divine favor and protection.

This is not to say God’s love was absent. Rather, as the scriptures repeatedly affirm, God’s dealings with Israel were motivated by mercy and faithfulness to the promises made with their forefathers:

For thou art an holy people unto the LORD thy God: the LORD thy God hath chosen thee to be a special people unto himself, above all people that are upon the face of the earth.

 

The Lord did not set his love upon you, nor choose you, because ye were more in number than any people; for ye were the fewest of all people:

 

But because the LORD loved you, and because he would keep the oath which he had sworn unto your fathers, hath the LORD brought you out with a mighty hand, and redeemed you out of the house of bondmen, from the hand of Pharaoh king of Egypt.” (Deuteronomy 7:6–8)

The primary focus of the Old Testament, then, is not a general treatise about the nature of God, but an account of God’s covenant dealings with a specific people—often in their moments of rebellion.

To be chosen is not a guarantee of constant blessing, nor a sign of superior personal virtue. In fact, the biblical record shows that Israel, as a nation, was repeatedly “cut off” or chastened for unfaithfulness, only to be forgiven and restored upon repentance.

Further, the privileges and blessings conferred upon Israel were designed not only for their own benefit, but so they could serve as a conduit of salvation for all mankind, culminating in the coming of Jesus Christ:

 “The house of Israel became the ministers of salvation to the Gentiles; and this is what the house of Israel was elected unto—not only their own salvation, but through them salvation unto all others; (John 4:22) ‘For salvation is of the Jews,’ (Romans 11:11-32) and ‘through their fall salvation is come unto the Gentiles.’” 

The apparent severity of God’s commands and the consequences administered to His covenant people are settings within this larger narrative: God’s determination to keep His promises, teach His people to honor their covenants, and ultimately prepare the world for the redemption offered by Christ.

From a modern perspective, stories like the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, the deaths of the firstborn in Egypt, or Israel’s conquests can appear harsh or even irreconcilable with a loving God. Yet, multiple scriptural and prophetic sources emphasize that God is both just and merciful, and His judgments are always for a redemptive purpose.

As explained in Approaching Zion,

 “…you owe it all to him. Throughout the book [of Deuteronomy], the refrain is repeated at the end of almost every pronouncement: You must do this in recognition of your dependence to God, because first and foremost he has given you your lives, he rescued you from Egypt, and he redeemed you—that is, he paid the price for you that you could not pay yourself…”

God’s discipline—often severe—is the response of a loving parent preparing His children for a holy purpose. The analogy of a parent, sometimes stern but always purposeful and loving, resonates in both ancient and modern revelation.

This view is consistent with how The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints understands the Old Testament God—not as lacking love, but as training (chastening) a rebellious people for their own benefit and, through them, for the blessing of the entire human family.

Scripture repeatedly affirms God’s merciful nature, even in the midst of describing discipline and justice:

And the Lord passed by before him, and proclaimed, The Lord, The Lord God, merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abundant in goodness and truth,

 

Keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty; visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children, and upon the children’s children, unto the third and to the fourth generation.

(Exodus 34:6–7)

God’s chastisement is always coupled with an invitation to repent and a promise of forgiveness:

When thou art in tribulation, and all these things are come upon thee, even in the latter days, if thou turn to the Lord thy God, and shalt be obedient unto his voice;

 

 (For the Lord thy God is a merciful God;) he will not forsake thee, neither destroy thee, nor forget the covenant of thy fathers which he sware unto them.

(Deut. 4:30–31)

A uniquely Latter-day Saint insight is the realization that the Jehovah of the Old Testament is the premortal Jesus Christ himself. The personality, attributes, and mission of Christ—full of mercy, justice, and perfect love—are the same across all dispensations.

God’s actions in the Old Testament are part of the same redemptive work that culminated in the mortal ministry, atonement, and resurrection of Jesus. The Old Testament laws, sacrifices, and even sacred violence were all types and symbols pointing to the central reality of Christ’s atonement. The underlying motive—the gathering and salvation of all God’s children—is consistent across dispensations.

As Hugh Nibley observed, the process of being God’s people always involves a call to holiness, to separateness from evil, and to sacrificial obedience. The highest blessings are always tied to faithfulness and willingness to consecrate all to God:

“God has always given his people the same choice of either living up to the covenants made with him or being in Satan’s power; there is no middle ground…Progressive testing takes place along the way in either direction; the same tests in every dispensation and generation mark the progress of the people of God.” 

If you have wrestled with the “hard sayings” of the Old Testament, let it lead you—not to despair or doubt—but to deeper reflection, prayer, and study. Seek the God of Israel in all His dealings, remembering that the same hands that bore the marks of crucifixion reached out again and again in love, patience, and hope, inviting all to come unto Christ and be perfected in Him.

Gramps