Years ago, the comedy duo of Abbott and Costello delivered a routine that I’m sure most of you here have heard called “Who’s on first?” In quick summation of this: one friend asks another for the names of the ballplayers on the St. Louis baseball team. In response, his friend says – quite seriously – that “Who” is on first, “What’s” on second, and “I Don’t Know” is on third…this of course leads his friend to ask “Well, do you know the names of the players on the team?” to which his friend replies, “that’s what I’m telling you! Who’s on first, what’s on second, I Don’t Know” is on third…” etc. etc.
This playful banter goes on for another few minutes or so before the friend finally realizes that “Who” is the guy’s actual name.
Now, there is a term for this in the study of logic: it’s called ‘equivocation’ – and it’s a fallacy that results when you call two different things by the same name.
Equivocation is something we struggle with a lot in the English language. In fact, I could probably count on one hand the number of words we have that only comprise of a single meaning.
Keeping that in mind, I’ve chosen to focus today on a very specific classification of the word “Grace” – fully aware that this is not the only possible definition for such an extensive term. Today, I focus on Grace as a noun: a noun which I would define, in its most simplistic terms, as “the enabling power of God to become perfect.”
It is important to point out that I do not mean “the Atonement.” Sometimes in the church, we arbitrarily interchange these words as if they were the same thing. This is yet another logical fallacy I hope to avoid today: the use of false synonyms. The Atonement itself was an act – a moment in our eternal history that reintroduced the power of grace to the earth. For the purpose of this talk, I ask that you simply separate the two terms in your mind.
Considering Grace as a noun will help both you and me to better understand the topic I was asked to speak on: How the requirement for grace is not perfection, but rather to simply desire grace, turning towards Christ.
Sound great, right? But if there’s one thing you’ve learned about me in the last five minutes, I hope it’s that I overanalyze everything I read, and the statement above is no exception. When I first read it, I was conflicted because this idea presupposes two things: first, that there is a requirement for grace – something I, at the time, completely disagreed with; and second, that this requirement is often misunderstood or incorrectly defined.
Now, that second assumption I can totally get behind. As I’ve already stated – I think we all suffer from a bad case of ‘misunderstanding’ when it comes to words defined. But that first assumption – that there would be a requirement for grace – took me days to appreciate. I mean, wasn’t it Moroni who says that grace is a gift we have all received, regardless of our worthiness for such a thing?
Of course, there could be multiple answers to this – considering there are multiple definitions of the word grace – which is why, as I mentioned before, I have decided to focus entirely on grace as a noun – an actual thing: the very real power of God that allows us to become perfect.
Let’s suppose for a moment we just accept this idea to be true: There is a requirement for grace – perhaps even more than one. If we accept this, then the next logical step is to try and define those requirements. Perhaps it is that we can only receive grace after we have done all that we can do, as 2 Nephi 25 would suggest. Or maybe, as stated in Moroni 10, we can only receive grace after we have denied ourselves of all ungodliness.
I certainly do not doubt the divinity or the actuality of these statements. But we could easily misinterpret the both of them to mean that in order to receive grace, we ourselves must become perfect. But this answer doesn’t work with the definition of Grace as stated before: if Grace is the power to become perfect, but ‘perfection’ itself is the requirement to receive this power, then we find ourselves facing a paradox.
In order to better understand why this concept cannot possibly be true, let’s talk about the Plan of Salvation.
As members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, we believe that every soul existed in Heaven with God before we were sent here to earth. It was there that we believe we were presented with a plan – God’s plan – that we would come down here to earth to receive our bodies, to learn and to grow, and eventually to die and return to live with him.
Satan, however, presented another plan: a plan that would ensure that every soul would return in the end. In essence, he was basically suggesting a plan of “perfection.” We would leave our Heavenly home as untarnished beings, and then we would return in just the same, “perfect” condition.
So why didn’t we choose that plan? If becoming “perfect” is the very purpose of life, then why would we not choose the tactic with a 100% guaranteed “perfect” outcome?
That seems illogical.
Yet, all of us here chose God’s plan: we chose to be sent to an earth which would fall – making it impossible for us to return to his presence without redemption.
It is my belief that we chose this plan because, at the time, we understood the concept I have spent all week trying to re-understand: We understood that the requirement to receive God’s grace is not perfection, but rather imperfection.
Think again to the dilemma we faced before – if perfection were the requirement for grace, how could we ever hope to achieve it? It was in understanding this that our Heavenly Father presented his plan. He knew that imperfection was, in fact, a prerequisite for grace. Thus, he knew that in order to receive this grace, we would first need to inhabit an earth in which we could become imperfect beings – for it is a law of Heaven that unclean things cannot dwell there.
Christ himself was imperfect when he received the full grace of God. Now, don’t get me wrong – I am certainly not suggesting that Christ was a sinner. It is entirely possible to be free from sin and still be imperfect. Part of the “perfection” process (and part of God’s plan) was for us to receive a body, die, and then be resurrected in glory after receiving God’s grace. This was only made possible because Christ himself went through the process first. His atoning sacrifice – made in a sinless, yet imperfect, un-resurrected body – is what allowed for us to receive God’s grace too.
Satan’s plan did not allow for this. His plan completely eliminates even the hope to receive God’s grace.
Now, let’s talk for a moment about the term ‘oxymoron.’ An oxymoron is when two apparently contradictory terms appear in conjunction with each other. “Bitter sweet,” “civil war,” “crash landing,” “even odds,” “ill health…” these are all pretty common examples of an oxymoron.
I’m reminded of another one – presented to us by the villain of the Incredibles, and I quote:
“I’ll sell my inventions so that everyone can be superheroes. *Everyone* can be super! And when everyone’s super…*no one* will be.”
In the scriptures there is a particular oxymoron that has troubled me for years: we’re told in the doctrine and covenants that “the worth of a soul is great,” and yet just a couple of books over we’re told that “man is nothing.” How can these two oxymoronic statements both be true?
It is with this question in mind that I bring up another fallacy we’re often guilty of - this one called “a false dilemma.” In the past, I read these two verses of scripture and assumed it was an “either/or” situation: either a soul is great, or it is nothing. The “false dilemma” fallacy has taught me that this is not true: that there is at least one other possibility. It is entirely possible that man is both great and nothing.
Adapting this to my topic – I believe that the requirement for grace is imperfection because to be perfect is to fully understand the effects of both good and evil. It is as the great Sirius Black once said: “We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That’s who we really are.”
It is on this "call to act" that I end my talk:
Choose to be good. Choose to accept the light. But more importantly than all, choose to accept both the light and the dark in others.
No one is perfect: this seems simple enough to accept when we are talking about the sins or mistakes of others, or when it means justifying our own sins as something “natural” that “cannot be helped.”
But the road to grace is not paved in the black of sin. It is a road paved in every spectrum of light – from the darkest moments of humanity to bright and celestial glow of the Gospel.
I pray today for the strength to accept my weaknesses, but more importantly, I pray for the opportunity to see and love the strengths and weaknesses of others. I am grateful to be a part of this imperfect world, and these things I leave you, in the name of Jesus Christ – Amen.
