Volume Three—Chapter Twelve THE CONDESCENSION OF GOD

While the prophet Nephi was experiencing his great vision of the tree of life, he was “caught away” “unto an exceedingly high mountain.” There, his angel guide asked him a most provocative question: “Knowest thou the condescension of God?” (1 Nephi 11:16). We each might ask ourselves this same important question. Do we have a true appreciation for and an understanding of the sacred concept of the “condescension of God”?

To “condescend” is often used in a negative sense. It means to behave as if one is descending from a superior position, rank, or dignity. It is to stoop by voluntarily putting aside one’s superiority and dignity and assume equality with one considered inferior. An example is to deliberately deign to simplify one’s speech and manner so that another person can understand or relate. It is deliberately “dumbing down” one’s importance and abilities so as to lessen incompatibility with someone of lesser status. The implication is that without this stooping, this condescension, the hearer would not understand and would not relate. Hence, this type of condescension is an insult to the person being condescended to, and it is often so perceived.

Condescension in a gospel context has a quite different meaning. To condescend is to descend from the privileges of higher rank or dignity to a lower level when it is not required to do so. It is to do this when the one who condescends has no thought whatever of rank. Instead he has in mind only the welfare of those of lower rank. Spiritually, condescension is particularly for the benefit of someone else. The one who condescends is enabled to interact with and edify the other. Condescension is motivated by and is a manifestation of love—a yearning for the welfare of the other.

The “condescension of God” has two general applications: (1) the condescension of the Father and (2) the condescension of the Son.

1. Elder Bruce R. McConkie taught: “The condescension of God (meaning the Father) consists in the fact that though he is an exalted, perfected, glorified personage, he became the personal and literal father of a mortal offspring born of mortal woman” (Mormon Doctrine, 155). The Father was willing to condescend in this way because of his love for us, so that we can pass into mortality, continue on in our spiritual progression, and ultimately obtain eternal life.

2. The condescension of the Son refers to the fact that Jesus, the God of this earth, voluntarily and knowingly came to this earth to submit himself to unimaginable, unparalleled indignity and suffering.

A cursory reading of the Gospels would lead one to think Jesus was very popular during his ministry. But, what of this popularity? Were his disciples solidly dedicated, ready to stick by him and follow him even in hard times? It is true that the masses were intrigued by his miracles. They doubtless wondered if he could be the promised Messiah. Maybe they even hoped he might be. But a certain fickleness invariably betrayed itself. For example, after being miraculously fed near Capernaum, many of the same disciples again grew hungry and sought out Jesus for more food. Jesus then preached to them a plain sermon in which he chastised them for worrying so much about their stomachs. He taught them they should look instead to him as the “bread of life.” He refused to feed them. Many of the disappointed, superficial “disciples went back, and walked no more with him.” Jesus sadly turned to his apostles and asked, “Will ye also go away?” (John 6:66-69).

During his short ministry, Jesus was to be roundly rejected by most everyone, save a few intimate family and friends. At the very outset of his ministry, he was rejected by those of his home town, Nazareth (Luke 4:16-30). That was only the beginning. He was later to be rejected, not only by the Jewish crowd in general, but even by some in his own family (John 7:5), some of the disciples of John the Baptist (Mark 2:18), and even some of his own apostles (John 16:31-32). The Jewish hierarchy not only rejected him, but sought repeatedly to kill him (John 7:1; 10:39; 11:47-53).

How did Jesus perceive this almost universal rejection? Was he affected and upset by it? Was he emotionally involved? We tend to objectify his experience. He was, after all, God of the earth. He had a godly perspective. He knew in advance what the outcome of his ministry would be. It was no surprise to him. He had the big picture. He did not depend on man for his happiness. He wasn’t likely as emotionally torn as, for example, a rejected missionary, who lacks perspective, might be today. Or, was he?

We tend to overlook the fact that in a profound sense, Jesus was human. He experienced the extremes of joy and sorrow that likely exceeded that of which we are capable (John 11:33-35). During his final week on earth, he paused as he approached Jerusalem, considered its rejection of him, and wept over the city (Luke 19:41-44). Consider what emotion he might have experienced at his last supper. Here was his final meeting with his apostles on the night before his crucifixion. He had taught them of his coming death. They were his most intimate and valued friends. It was only they, among mortals, to whom he could look for solace in this hour of his extremity. He might well have anticipated receiving sympathy, understanding, and comfort from them. What did he encounter? As he entered the room, some of them were arguing as to which of them would be the greatest in the earthly kingdom of God once it was established! They were completely ignorant of the gravity of the situation and the plight of their Master. They were like children bickering among themselves, oblivious to the problem at hand.

Jesus would later prophesy on the same occasion that all of his disciples would flee from him that very night (Matthew 26:31). He realized that he was obviously going to have to go through his ordeal alone, save for the companionship of the Spirit.

Then, consider also the ultimate and final rejection. As Christ hung on the cross, he heard the taunts of those watching: “Thou that destroyest the temple, and buildest it in three days, save thyself. If thou be the Son of God, come down from the cross” (Matthew 27:40). “He saved others; let him save himself, if he be Christ, the chosen of God” (Luke 23:35). As he looked down, he saw only one apostle, his mother, and a few women disciples. Here was the God of the earth, the Son of the very Father. He had come to earth to offer, to any who would believe, everything that he and his Father possessed. Yet, most had deserted him. Then, finally, the cruelest stroke of all, difficult even to imagine and especially difficult to recount. By the eternal, yet awful, plan of justice and law, it was required that even the protective Spirit of the Father be withdrawn from him. In this moment of extremis, the only comfort that remained to him was torn away, leaving him in hell, bereft of any support. “And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani? which is, being interpreted, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34). Jesus would later recall this experience as he tried to comfort Joseph Smith and others held captive in Liberty jail, “And if thou shouldst be cast into the pit, or into the hands of murderers, and the sentence of death passed upon thee; if thou be cast into the deep; if the billowing surge conspire against thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to hedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good. The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater then he?” (D&C 122:7-8).

“Knowest thou the condescension of God?”