Ye Shall Know of the Doctrine—Volume 3 Chapter 2 - The Roles of Suffering in Our Lives

The Roles of Suffering in Our Lives

In the previous chapter, we defined suffering as mental, emotional, spiritual, or physical distress or pain. It is the discomfort and pain resulting from…

Volume Three—Chapter Two THE ROLES OF SUFFERING IN OUR LIVES

In the previous chapter, we defined suffering as mental, emotional, spiritual, or physical distress or pain. It is the discomfort and pain resulting from the loss of desirable freedoms. It is the pain of adversity.

Are All Types of Suffering Potentially Constructive in the Lives of the Sufferer?

It is intuitively obvious that most types of adversities with their consequent sufferings offer opportunities for spiritual growth. For example, internal adversity and suffering—the pain of denying one’s natural self—is an integral part of qualifying for gifts of the Spirit. Of the external adversities, those of type 1 are the “mortal accidents.” If they are endured well, they may result in spiritual progress. Type 3 adversities—those orchestrated by the Lord—are, by definition, intended by the Lord to result in spiritual growth. But what about type 2 adversities and sufferings? These are, you will recall, those brought upon ourselves by our own misconduct. Are they productive in the life of the sufferer? They might, after all, have been avoided if the individual had made proper choices. By his wrong choices, he now has to suffer. Even these, if faced with an attitude of repentance and godly sorrow, are potentially beneficial.

Thus, virtually all types of adversities with their attendant sufferings are potentially edifying, “sanctification sufferings.” All may potentially result in spiritual growth. But all types of adversities may also result in discouragement and despair. The critical factor is how they are endured.

Might the Lord Directly Impose Suffering Without Intermediate Adversity?

It would seem that generally the Lord does not directly impose suffering. Rather, he imposes, or allows to be imposed, adversities that lead to suffering. But does he ever impose sanctification suffering without the intermediate use of adverse circumstances or events? In other words, does the Lord ever directly impose suffering on an individual who does not appear to be encountering adversities in mortality? Let us consider this question more closely.

In volume 1, chapter 19, The Essence of the Lord’s Atonement, we considered just what happened to the Savior during those awful hours of his atoning sacrifice. He suffered the pain of every adversity that has been or will be experienced by any man. We don’t know the mechanism of the Father’s imposing this suffering. Whether he used unseen adversities or just directly imposed the sufferings specific for those adversities we do not know.

We might wonder if the Lord directly imposed sanctification sufferings upon Paul on the road to Damascus and upon the younger Alma and his friends, the four sons of

Mosiah, as they all traveled about persecuting the Church (Acts 9:1-9; 22:1-13; 26:12- 18; Mosiah 27). Let us look more closely at the remarkable experiences had by these brethren. We will use the experience of Alma as our case in point.

The “wicked” and “idolatrous” Alma was attempting to lead “many of the people to do after the manner of his iniquities,” and he sought to “destroy the church” (Mosiah 27:8, 10). In the midst of this he encountered an angel and had a most interesting 48hour experience, as the angel attempted to prove to Alma the reality, power, and authority of God. What exactly happened during those hours? Who orchestrated this experience? What was the intended end result? Was this a positive or a negative experience for Alma? Did Alma have any choice in the matter? Was he forced to experience this ordeal?

Many in the Church are content with a rather simplistic explanation: Alma was blessed with a visit from a divine messenger who explained to him the error of his ways and then instructed him in what he must do. He thereafter recognized his previous errors, repented, and lived a life of unflagging service to the Lord. Is this, in fact, an adequate explanation of Alma’s profound experience?

Alma later described his experience as being characterized by “exquisite pain” (Alma 36:21). He found himself “in the gall of bitterness and [bound by the] bonds of iniquity” (verse 29). He was “racked with eternal torment” (Ibid.). In his own words, “My soul was harrowed up to the greatest degree and racked with all my sins.” He was “tormented with the pains of hell” and suffered “inexpressible horror” (Alma 36:12-14). This hardly sounds like a simple scolding or counseling session from a divine messenger. The evidence suggests that the Lord does deliberately utilize direct, divinely-induced suffering for his own purposes. And he may do so more often than we are inclined to expect. The phenomenon of “godly sorrow” is perhaps the best example.1 Paul’s analogous experience is more briefly described. We are told that he “fell to the earth” (Acts 9:4) and “was three days without sight, and neither did eat nor drink” (Acts 9:9).

While there is no mention of the process of repentance experienced by the four sons of Mosiah, there is reason to assume they had an experience similar to Alma’s. Presumably, they also had “hell to pay.” There was obviously no “free lunch” in the repentance of these brethren either. Their experience was doubtless also exquisitely painful.

Additional questions arise regarding this type of divinely orchestrated experience. First, was it forcibly foisted upon Paul, Alma, and the sons of Mosiah? Or, did they have some say in the matter? Could or would Deity have overridden the agency of these men? Could God force them to submit to this experience? Just as Jesus agreed to his awful atoning experience (“not as I will, but as thou wilt”—Matthew 26:39), so must Paul, Alma, and the sons of Mosiah have agreed in some way to experience this suffering. They first experienced a personal epiphany from an angel or from the Lord himself. Undoubtedly, their spiritual plight was explained to them. There can be no question that all of these brethren were exceptional in the premortal world. They were foreordained to a great work here in mortality. All had lost their way. Now they needed rescuing, and perhaps there was only one way back. They had to voluntarily suffer, and suffer egregiously (see Alma 36:17-18).

What was accomplished by their suffering? As they suffered well the imposed sufferings, they “qualified for,” and the Lord mercifully granted them, gifts of the Spirit and the perquisites associated with those gifts. These perquisites resulted in the

thorough conversion of all six of these brethren. The result was their conversion in the fullest sense of the word. Alma would later utter eloquent evidence of his conversion: “Behold . . . I could remember my pains no more; yea, I was harrowed up by the memory of my sins no more. And oh, what joy, and what marvelous light I did behold; yea, my soul was filled with joy as exceeding as was my pain! Yea, I say unto you, my son, that there could be nothing so exquisite and so bitter as were my pains. Yea, and again I say unto you, my son, that on the other hand, there can be nothing so exquisite and sweet as was my joy” (Alma 36:19-21).

Paul and Alma were also inducted into what Paul called “the fellowship of his [Christ’s] suffering” (Philippians 3:10) (please see “The Atonement Principle” below). An important effect of this suffering, aside from the conversion to the Lord and his purposes, was empathy and charity for all mankind. The four sons of Mosiah also likely shared in this blessing. Evidence for their impressive empathy is found in Mosiah 28:3: “Now they were desirous that salvation should be declared to every creature, for they could not bear that any human soul should perish; yea, even the very thoughts that any soul should endure endless torment did cause them to quake and tremble.”

The Suffering of Guilt and Remorse

One variant of self-inflicted or type 2 suffering is the guilt and pain of remorse resulting from our sins. It can be profound and is also a most important type of suffering we may bring upon ourselves. The familiar refrain rings true: “. . . of all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest [the most painful] are these: ‘It might have been’” (John Greenleaf Whittier).

Our basic nature is divine. The light or Spirit of Christ, a free gift to all mankind here on earth (Moroni 7:16-17; D&C 93:2), testifies to each of that divine spark with us. Without the Spirit of Christ, we may not sense the eternal in us. We may remain completely unaware of the spiritual self dwelling deeply inside. There would be no remorse resulting from our sins. However, we do possess this supernal gift. We do sense the noble and eternal within us. When we are true to that nature and obey gospel law, we experience no regret or remorse. However, when we betray our divine potential and commit sin, there is inevitably a sense of guilt. Remorseful suffering results from thoughts of “what might have been.” This may include a prominent element of fear and apprehension for our eternal future. This may take the form of an “awful fear of death” (Mormon 6:7).

Overt and subconscious manifestations of guilt. Guilt may be experienced consciously or stowed in the subconscious. In the latter case, instead of producing obvious suffering, the guilt may express itself in subtle and unproductive ways.

When remorse is overt and conscious, the betrayer may experience longing regret. “Oh, that I had done things differently. If only I had decided otherwise.” He can easily comprehend the relationship between his sin and his suffering. This type of regret is a healthy and positive thing.

Such conscious regret, however, is not experienced by most sinners who betray their divine nature. The man who betrays his divine nature more often seeks to assuage his guilt by self justification or accusation of others. He attempts to find someone or something to blame besides himself. This sets in motion an avalanche of accusation, blame, anger, hurt, and suffering. The real cause of suffering may be easily lost on the self betrayer. He doesn’t realize he is suffering because of his own sin. He hides the fact of his own misdeeds from himself. But his suffering is real and unmistakable.3

Let’s consider the example of a hypothetical individual besieged by his sexual drives. He is struggling to deny them when it is appropriate to do so. From time to time, he is tempted to do something he should not do. At this point of temptation he has two choices. He can choose to remain true to his divine nature and obey the Lord’s command to remain sexually pure. Alternatively, he can commit a sinful act. The process is the same for a man trying to earn any of the gifts of the Spirit. In trying to progress spiritually we are always brought to a critical moment. We have the choice of exercising our deliberate faith, overcoming our natural self, and obeying the Lord’s commandment or caving in to our natural inclinations by disobeying and committing sin.

Now, back to our hypothetical man. The decision to obey or not is not an easy one. Both choices lead to suffering of a different type. If he is able to win the battle and successfully manifest his deliberate self control, he experiences the productive pain of self denial. The act of resisting involves some degree of pain, discomfort, and “suffering.” This type of suffering, however, is good, productive, and useful. It is the type of suffering we must experience as we grow toward godhood. For this transient suffering he is eventually (sometimes immediately) granted the joy of knowing he has been loyal to the divine within him. There is no guilt or remorse.

On the other hand, in this critical moment, let us suppose he gives in to his natural-man self and commits a sinful act. He then experiences another kind of suffering, that of guilt or remorse. It is the “sorrowing of the damned” (Mormon 2:13). This results from his having forsaken or betrayed his spiritual self. This remorse may be experienced openly. The man may come to his senses and realize the terrible thing he has done. He may admit to himself and others his tragic mistake. He may acknowledge the damage done to himself and others. His suffering may be immediate and painful. He may realize the implications of his act and say, “Oh no. What have I done? How can I begin to repair the damage?” Or, more often as it turns out, he may seek instead to justify himself. There may be angry and emotional outbursts, blaming, accusing, and rationalizing. “If only my wife had been more attentive, more understanding, or more accommodating.” “It’s not as bad as it appears; it was only a one-night fling.” “I still love my wife.” “What do you mean my fault? It was really your fault. If you hadn’t . . ..” In this latter instance, there will be suffering. But, the individual may be oblivious to the clear connection between the suffering and his sin. Unfortunately, in some individuals, there occurs a predominant continual tendency for self justification rather than self knowledge. True repentance is not possible until the sinner forthrightly acknowledges or confesses, at least to himself, his own culpability (D&C 48:42-43).

Past feeling. A man may reach a state of wickedness where little or nothing of the “Spirit of Christ” persists in him. His depravity thus obliterates, at least ostensibly, any overt feelings of guilt or remorse. This state is referred to in the scriptures as being “past feeling” (1 Nephi 17:45). One wonders if such a person might still sense some subconscious ambivalence.

Guilt following the judgment. For some individuals, remorseful suffering will occur too late. Following the final judgment, after all have been designated and assigned to a kingdom of glory (and a few to a place of no glory), repentance is no longer possible. Then, any remorse and guilt are not productive, only agonizing. Those who inherit celestial glory will doubtless experience sublime joy. For those in the lesser kingdoms, there may initially be the pain of “what might have been.” Apparently though, they will eventually also be free of remorse. The younger Alma taught that everyone will eventually be “happy” with their eternal reward (see Alma 29:4). Hence, in time everyone will be free of remorse and remain so for eternity. While we know nothing of the eternal plight of those who inherit outer darkness, it seems unlike the Father to subject them to eternal agony. I would rather suppose they are doomed to eternal apathy, indifference, and lethargy.

What of the Suffering in Hell?

Obviously we might suppose that “hell” (the spirit prison) is a place of great adversity and suffering. But what is the nature and extent of suffering there? Why is the suffering so exquisite? What is the purpose of this suffering? Please see our previous discussion of these questions in “Why Is Spirit Prison ‘Hell’?” in volume 2, chapter 13, The Spirit World. I will not repeat that discussion here.

Where Do We Experience Adversity and Suffering?

The suffering of self denial is familiar to us here in mortality. It will certainly continue in the spirit prison. But, did this type of suffering exist during our premortal existence? Of course. There we possessed agency and were subject to law. It was easier to disobey than obey. Obedience has always required an element of self denial and associated suffering. Disobedience enables the sinner to momentarily avoid that internal suffering, but type 2 sufferings inevitably follow. It is likely type 3 sufferings were also present. We know nothing of type 1 sufferings in the premortal realm. Might it be that they are a unique feature of this mortal experience?

Will the suffering of self denial be present in post-mortal paradise and even in the kingdoms of glory? We will suffer as long as we are striving to overcome our natural self through deliberate obedience. Certainly we will continue to grow in both paradise and in the kingdoms of glory. With continued spiritual progress, however, our growth becomes easier and more rapid. If we inherit a celestial reward, we can expect our growth to be eternal. Surely, spiritual growth of the righteous in that realm will be an ever-accelerating and most joyful experience.

In the celestial heaven, it is likely we will experience a type of empathetic “secondary” suffering as we observe the life courses of others. Contemplate, for example, the plight of our Father in heaven and his sublime empathy for each of his creatures. He certainly experiences joy, but also heartache, disappointment, and even despair. It is obvious that our suffering will continue, in some measure, for eternity. It is this suffering that allows us to grow.

We assume there is a limit to spiritual growth and learning in the terrestrial and telestial kingdoms. Perhaps all pain of self denial (internal suffering) may eventually cease there. It is difficult to know, however, about the other types of adversity and suffering in these two kingdoms.

Adversity—A Temptation to Sin?

We have described the tugs of the natural self as the cause of an important type of adversity—internal adversity. And we have concluded that this type of adversity is a temptation to commit sin. An interesting question arises. Does the natural self result in adversity and temptation if no effort is made to resist it? Does the sinner who habitually commits sin ever experience internal adversity and temptation? Let us review again the mechanism for internal suffering’s becoming a temptation to commit sin. When an individual is brought to a point of having to decide whether or not to obey a commandment, he senses that obeying requires him to overcome the pulls of his natural self. In other words, in order to obey, he must suffer the pain of that overcoming. If he chooses to disobey and instead accommodates the desires of his natural self, he avoids the pain of self denial. He is tempted to commit sin because he knows that obedience will cause him to suffer. It would seem, then, that the individual who predictably chooses sin when faced with a moral decision largely avoids internal suffering. He avoids the “temptation,” the threat of pain from his natural self. In effect, he commits sin without being tempted. He refuses to encounter and contend with the pain of resisting his natural self.

Why then does he continue along the pathway of sin? If he feels no pain of temptation, why does he keep on sinning? Perhaps it is simply his recollection of what it was like to be tempted that perpetuates his sinful ways. Alternatively, it is likely that most habitual sinners do actually succumb to the temptation and adversity of their natural self. But they require very little temptation before they commit sin. They don’t really know severe temptation—severe internal adversity. Only the person who has contended vigorously with his natural self knows well the pain of temptation. Jesus Christ himself is the person most acquainted with temptation, since he experienced and resisted them all.4

Since “wickedness never was happiness,” it is certain the sinner will experience the full force of adversities and sufferings of other types, particularly type 1 and 2. And since he is not likely to “suffer well” these adversities, his suffering will be severe and prolonged.

Human Needs and Adversity

Let us briefly review Dr. Abraham Mazlow’s hierarchy of human needs. Each human being has needs that demand satisfaction. They exist in a hierarchy, lowest to highest. We will list them in ascending order:

Physical needs. The need for food, water, and air; the need to be in a safe and comfortable environment; the need to enjoy a comfortable temperature; the need to have enough space to move around in; the need to satisfy our biological or sexual desires.

Social needs. The need to be accepted, loved, and included; the need for physical self esteem (the need to be considered physically attractive). Materialism fits into this category, as the possession of material things is often regarded as a mechanism to make ourselves more attractive and acceptable.

Psychological or ego needs. The need to be admired, valued, respected, and held in high esteem. One could add the needs to learn and understand to this category.

Spiritual needs. The need to see a higher purpose in this life; the need for God and for a permanent life beyond this one.

We may speak of the “lower needs” as the physical, social, and psychological ones. These appeal powerfully to our natural self and are all potential temptations to commit sin. The “higher needs” are the spiritual and appeal to our spiritual self.

There is a powerful human tendency that stands between us and obedience to God’s law. Thus, it stands between us and exaltation. It is the compelling need for our lower needs to be satisfied before we feel compelled to satisfy the higher ones. For example, a man who desperately needs food, water, or even air is understandably not concerned about social needs or spiritual needs. A person who feels unloved, unaccepted, or under appreciated is rarely concerned with his spiritual needs.

All our lower needs are potential temptations to commit sin. They are the basis of our internal adversities and sufferings. When we feel the discomfort produced by our lower needs, we are driven to assuage them. Until those needs are quenched, we are usually not much concerned about our higher, spiritual needs. Hence, we are not motivated to deny our natural self (which feels and responds to the lower needs) and obey commandments, as long as we have unfulfilled lower needs.

Additionally, adversities of all kinds further enhance our lower needs, as they all cause pain, suffering, discouragement, unhappiness, and even despair. We tend to require physical, emotional, and mental comfort before we can fully respond to our spiritual needs. The subtle pulls of our spiritual needs take a back seat to the stronger “temptations” of our lower needs. Thus, adversities of all types usually function in our lives as “temptations” to commit sin.

As we consider adversity and suffering, it becomes easier to understand why the Savior had to suffer, first hand, all of the adversities ever experienced by humankind. Without this suffering he could not fully understand the temptations to sin.

Is There a Limit to Our Adversity and Suffering?

Our omniscient Lord will not tempt us beyond our capacity to endure. Elder Maxwell wrote:

The thermostat on the furnace of affliction will not have been set too high for us—though clearly we may think so at the time. Our God is a refining God who has been tempering soul-steel for a very long time. He knows when the right edge has been put upon our excellence and also when there is more in us than we have yet given. One day we will praise God for taking us near to our limits—as He did His Only Begotten in Gethsemane and Calvary” (All These Things Shall Give Thee Experience, 46).

The apostle Paul wrote: “There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it” (1 Corinthians 10:13).

We cannot expect at this time to have full insight into the appropriateness of the trials we pass through. One day, however, we will. We will know our lives have been fully and fairly measured. We will recall the depth of our commitment made in the first estate. We will realize God has, indeed, been perfect in his justice and mercy.

Is Adversity Evil?

We have already discussed the vital role of adversity in our spiritual growth. Adversity is obviously a good and useful thing. God himself is the designer of this mortal trial, and adversity is featured prominently. William Shakespeare, in his play As You Like It, wrote, “Sweet are the uses of adversity.”

Is adversity ever an evil thing? Evil is any influence that has a negative effect on a person’s spiritual and eternal welfare. It is any influence that may contribute to man’s proclivity to commit sin. Many good, useful things become evil when they are misused or misapplied. An obvious contemporary example is the internet. Adversity becomes evil when an individual responds to it by succumbing to temptation. It is evil when the recipient becomes overly discouraged and seeks relief from his struggles by accommodating the natural self.

Secular philosophers have long equated adversity with evil. This is certainly an incomplete and not a wholly accurate assessment. The philosophers have failed to understand the vital nature and additional constructive, eternal purposes of adversity. Philosophers, who possess a limited understanding of adversity, have raised questions about God’s relationship to adversity and evil. In the secular world, the question of adversity or evil is often simply called “the problem of evil.” If God is good, why does he permit evil (adversity) to exist? Or, if God created all things, and if there is now evil in the universe, then God created evil. If God is good, how could he create and be responsible for the existence of evil? These musings have even led to the “logical” conclusion that God may not even exist. All these questions, of course are based on false assumptions and incomplete understandings. The necessary ingredients for evil, particularly man’s natural self, was not created by God, but has always existed (D&C 93:29). Adversity is vital because of its positive refining and testing potential. God must permit it to exist because spiritual growth can occur in no other way. Does all this not imply the possibility that enticing opportunities to commit sin are a necessary part of God’s plan for us? Indeed, how else can we grow lest we apply our agency, rationality, and discipline to choose between attractive contraries? The Lord places good and evil before us, thereby allowing us to choose. When there is some natural resistance to choose good, we are able to overcome and grow. Lehi taught his son Jacob, “For it must needs be, that there is an opposition in all things. If not so, my first-born in the wilderness, righteousness could not be brought to pass, neither wickedness, neither holiness nor misery, neither good nor bad” (2 Nephi 2:11).

One commonplace tenet regarding evil is nonsensical. Some argue that evil (adversity) has no existence. It is simply the absence of good. While this absence-of- good theory may be a simple and slick explanation, it is also untenable. Adversity and evil influences do exist. We all observe and even feel their workings in our own lives.

In all of this, we cannot imply that God is in any way a party to evil or sin. He did bring into being a system of mortal trial and testing that permits the existence of adversity. It allows all his creations to utilize their agency in such a way that suffering will exist and sin may result. God’s hope is that we respond to inevitable adversities with growth and not sin. He further hopes that adversities will serve only as mechanisms for growth and not as evil influences.

What is Satan’s Role in the Adversity that Exists in the World?

Satan had no role in creating the natural self in each of us. Nor did he design the particulars of mortality. Satan is not inclined to struggle against his own natural self or against those considerable obstacles resulting from his own wrong choices. He has himself long since been entrapped by the “chains of hell.” He has despaired of ever growing spiritually toward eternal glory. His condemnation (his “falling and rejection”) is sure. Eternally he will live in outer darkness.

Satan is powerless over the individual who consistently strives to deny his natural self. His only influence is over the individual who has elected to suspend his efforts to strive against his natural self. Satan is knowledgeable and clever, but he is limited in his influence. He must concentrate on those who are committing sin. He must focus on those in danger, owing to their own misdeeds, of being ensnared by the “chains of hell.” His approach is to affirm, comfort, shame, and otherwise entice those who have ceased to strive and climb. He teaches the specious reasoning of self justification common in this group. He preaches the same lie he used in the premortal world: “There is no reason to struggle against your natural self or against the other adversities of life. Follow me, and I will lead you to a bright eternal future.”5

More on the Purposes of Adversity and Suffering

We have already alluded to the positive virtues that may come out of our struggling against our adversities. Let us now consider them further.

In the absence of adversity we cannot make optimal headway toward godhood. Elder Maxwell wrote: “It is in our weakness and extremity that God’s power is fully felt. Only when, of ourselves, we are helpless is his help truly appreciated” (All These Things Shall Give Thee Experience, 31). Those faithful who pray “being in agony” pray more earnestly (Luke 22:44).

The Lord in his omniscience knows beforehand how we will fare when faced with our trials here in mortality. Yet, he will not spare us the painful process of growth resulting from those trials. It is only after we have succeeded and grown that he will call us to greater things. “For, behold, I have refined thee, I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction” (1 Nephi 20:10). President James E. Faust taught us about the refining effects of our trials: “In the pain, the agony, and the heroic endeavors of life, we pass through the refiner’s fire, and the insignificant and the unimportant in our lives can melt away like dross and make our faith bright, intact, and strong. . . . This change comes about through a refining process which often seems cruel and hard. In this way the soul can become like soft clay in the hands of the Master” (“The Refiner’s Fire,” Ensign, May 1979, 53). Adversity also adorns and beautifies the world by providing contrast with the good in the same way that antithesis gives beauty to poetry.

The Book of Mormon teaches that the Savior derived magnificent blessings from his sufferings, the most excruciating of which were associated with his atonement:

And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people. And he will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death which bind his people; and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities (Alma 7:11-12).

And what explicit blessing did the Savior acquire through his trials? As these verses teach, he added to his already incomparable compassion, empathy, and charity for each of us. In volume 1, chapter 19, The Essence of the Lord’s Atonement, we discussed the vital reasons why the Savior had to come to understand, by direct personal experience, the temptations and other adversities of every mortal who has lived or who will yet live on this earth.

Endure It Well

When faced with adversity, an individual may succeed or falter. The question is not whether or not we will face adversity. We all face adversity. None will be spared. The real question is how we will face our adversities. The prophet Joseph Smith was counseled and even commanded by the Lord that not only should he endure the suffering of Liberty Jail, but that he should “endure it well.” the Lord said, “My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment; And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes” (D&C 121:7-8). When we endure well the trials of this earth, we face them with courage, a positive attitude, and hope for a better future. Some fail in their efforts to endure well their earthly trials. They become imbued with bitterness, resentment, resignation, a “why me?” attitude, a sense of “What did I do to deserve this?” or even frank despair. Such a person may not receive the full blessings due him for his adverse experiences.

The doctrine of adversity is a “hard” or “wintry” doctrine. Elder Neal A. Maxwell wrote: “There are in the gospel warm and cuddly doctrines, and then there are some that are just outright wintry doctrines. [These doctrines are true, but] we avert our gaze [from them], because we don’t wish to contemplate them” (Quoted in Bruce C. Hafen’s, A Disciple’s Life: The Biography of Neal A. Maxwell, 20). Their hardness does not lie with any difficulty in understanding the doctrine. Rather it relates to the demands the doctrine makes upon us. Encounters with adversity are unavoidable. Indeed, they are an integral part of this mortal experience. They are also essential for our progress. Eric Hoffer said, “The soul is like a violin string: it makes music only when it is stretched.” This second estate is clearly intended to be a testing and learning experience. When the Gods discussed us and our earth experience, they declared, “And we will prove them herewith” (D&C 98:12; Abraham 3:25). Encountering adversity can be excruciatingly difficult. At times, it seems completely intolerable. Yet, suffer and endure we must if we intend to progress toward godhood.

The “Atonement Principle”

When individuals suffer internal and external adversities well—courageously, positively, with a positive attitude—they will be blessed to receive added gifts of the Spirit. Among these gifts is empathy. The individual facing real adversity truly suffers. Consequently he more easily identifies with others who suffer. I like to refer to acquiring empathy through suffering as the “atonement principle.” We may draw an analogy between this process and the Lord’s atoning sacrifice though it may seem almost a heresy to do so. He suffered infinitely, and our suffering is miniscule by comparison. By his atoning suffering he acquired infinite empathy and understanding for each of us. By our suffering, we acquire a lesser measure of the same for others. Parenthetically, it is interesting to note that there is an intimate relationship between the spiritual gift of

empathy and that of charity.

The atonement principle applies to all of us. We are blessed with empathy for others as we successfully negotiate life with its many difficulties. Thus, the doctrine of adversity is a primary principle by which we progress toward godhood during mortality. When we suffer, we acquire empathy for others who suffer. We come to understand them and feel for them. Our heart goes out to them. We are inclined to serve them. Their spiritual and temporal welfare becomes important to us. We come to care about them as much as we care about ourselves. In short we are blessed to possess charity for others.

Some passages of scripture invite us to do what Christ did. For example: “Wherefore, we would to God that we could persuade all men not to rebel against God, to provoke him to anger, but that all men would believe in Christ, and view his death, and suffer his cross and bear the shame of the world” (Jacob 1:8, italics mine). Also: “Behold the wounds which pierced my side, and also the prints of the nails in my hands and feet” (D&C 6:37). When we “view his death,” “suffer his cross,” “bear the shame of the world,” and “behold [his] wounds,” we come to identify intimately with him. We actually develop empathy for him and his atoning sacrifice. We also expand the scope of our empathy for others. This gift of empathy can only come as a gift of the Spirit after we ourselves have suffered. Surely this benefit of our suffering is an intended purpose of mortality. Because of the supreme importance of charity (1 Corinthians 13:11-13), it would not be at all surprising to one day learn that our membership in Paul’s “fellowship of his suffering” (Philippians 3:10) is an important item to have on our spiritual curriculum vitae as we stand before the Lord at the final judgment.

Author, playwright, and poet Thornton Wilder wrote: “Without your wound where would your power be? It is your very remorse that makes your low voice tremble into the hearts of men. The very angels themselves cannot persuade the wretched and blundering children on earth as can one human being broken on the wheels of living. In love’s service, only the wounded soldiers can serve” (from his short play, The Angel That Troubled the Waters). Ancient Greek playwright Aeschylus wrote: “Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart until in our despair and against our will comes wisdom through the awful grace of God” (Edith Hamilton, Three Greek Plays: Prometheus Bound, Agamemnon, The Trojan Woman, 70).

Must We Go It Alone?

In our suffering we may, under certain circumstances, apparently expect to have to “go it alone.” Elder Maxwell wrote: “There is, in the suffering of the highest order, a point that is reached, a point of aloneness, when the individual (as did the Savior on a much grander scale) must bear it, as it were, alone. Even the faithful may wonder if they can take any more or if they are in some way forsaken” (All These Things Shall Give Thee Experience, 43-44). Onlookers who would help us, those who stand near the foot of our cross, are powerless to spare us the pain and anguish. Some things we must do ourselves that our triumph may be complete. Elder James E. Talmage wrote of the moment when the Father withdrew the support of the Spirit at the point of the Savior’s greatest suffering on the cross:

At the ninth hour, or about three in the afternoon, a loud voice, surpassing the most anguished cry of physical suffering issued from the central cross, rending the dreadful darkness. It was the voice of the Christ: “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani? which is, being interpreted, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” What mind of man can fathom the significance of that awful cry? It seems, that in addition to the fearful suffering incident to crucifixion, the agony of Gethsemane had recurred, intensified beyond human power to endure. In that bitterest hour the dying Christ was alone, alone in most terrible reality. That the supreme sacrifice of the Son might be consummated in all its fulness, the Father seems to have withdrawn the support of His immediate Presence, leaving to the Savior of men the glory of complete victory over the forces of sin and death (Jesus the Christ, 661).

As we experience ongoing trials or those yet in the future, we should not expect to understand fully the rhyme or reason behind them. Elder Maxwell wrote: “The arithmetic of anguish is something we mortals cannot comprehend. We cannot do the sums because we do not have all the numbers. We are locked in the dimension of time and are contained within the tight perspectives of this second estate” (All These Things Shall Give Thee Experience, 43-44.). We must simply trust in the omniscient Lord and know that he ultimately will manage the lives of the righteous for their betterment. Elder Maxwell also wrote:

At times, we are taken to the very edge of our faith; we teeter at the edge of our trust. Perhaps, even as Jesus did on the cross, we in our own small way may feel forgotten and forsaken. To go to the very edge is possible, of course, only when we believe in an omniscient and omnipotent God. When we understand that all things are present before his eyes and that he knows all things past, present, and future, then we can trust ourselves to him (Ibid., 36).

Does the Savior’s Atonement Prevent Our Having to Suffer?

The Savior died for our sins. Does that mean we do not have to suffer? Before we address this question, let us consider another: Is it possible for a man to suffer for his own sins to the point of exaltation without the intervention of the Lord’s atonement? Perhaps there exists, in theory only, an amount of suffering by which a man may come to merit his own exaltation without the Lord’s mercy. This suffering would perhaps be identical to the Savior’s suffering in Gethsemane and at Calvary. Clearly, no mortal will ever, or could ever, withstand that degree of suffering. Thus, there exists an insurmountable gap between our own suffering and that required for exaltation.

So, back to our question: Does Christ’s atonement eliminate the necessity of our having to suffer in this second estate? We often hear, “Jesus suffered so we shall not have to suffer.” This statement has its origin in the metaphors often applied to the Savior’s atonement. In some ways these metaphors are not strictly correct. The correct answer is that the suffering of self denial, and more, will be required of each of us. The “blood of Christ,” Christ’s mercy—the blessings of his atonement—are extended only to those willing to endure the pain of repentance (internal suffering) and to endure well the other pains of mortality. These pains are the mechanisms of our spiritual growth.

The atonement of Christ doesn’t automatically entitle us to any degree of spiritual growth without effort on our own part. Those righteously striving to obey, however, will experience a comforting and merciful mitigation of their mortal suffering which occurs by virtue of the Lord’s atonement.7

We are required to experience a manageable amount of suffering here on the earth. After we have done what he requires of us, he will take care of the rest. He will carry us the rest of the way. We do not decide on the amount of suffering each of us must endure. That is for the Savior to decide. We must strive diligently, persistently, happily, and enthusiastically until we are finally swept up in his arms and taken the rest of the way home.

What Type of Suffering Did the Savior Experience in Gethsemane and on the Cross?

Jesus Christ suffered infinitely, exquisitely, and unspeakably in Gethsemane and at Calvary. The Savior’s atoning experience in Gethsemane and on the cross was orchestrated by the Father himself. The Savior spoke of himself in the third person and said to Joseph Smith and Sidney Rigdon: “When he shall deliver up the kingdom, and present it unto the Father, spotless, saying: I have overcome and have trodden the wine-press alone, even the wine-press of the fierceness of the wrath of Almighty God” (D&C 76:107, italics added). When Christ appeared to the righteous Nephites gathered at the temple in Bountiful, he taught: “And behold, I am the light and the life of the world; and I have drunk out of that bitter cup which the Father hath given me, and have glorified the Father in taking upon me the sins of the world, in the which I have suffered the will of the Father in all things from the beginning” (3 Nephi 11:11, italics added). Jesus’s atoning sacrifice was obviously productive of his own spiritual growth and progress. His experience in Gethsemane and at Calvary was divinely planned and executed. There was nothing of arbitrariness in it.

But what type of suffering did he experience? Was there anything of type 2, including remorseful suffering, in the Saviors atoning sacrifice? Not a whit of his suffering was of his own making. He had no reason to be remorseful. Most all of his suffering was inflicted by the Father (D&C 76:107) as a type of divine tutorial. This was type 3 suffering. It was divinely orchestrated for very specific purpose. He suffered so that he might become fully qualified to be our Savior.

And what about the pain of self denial? We may be inclined to believe that this only perfect individual had mastered all temptation. Surely Jesus Christ did not still feel the pain of self denial. A careful second thought suggests otherwise. He suffered awfully, and the reason was that he had not completely mastered or overcome the nearly infinite trials he was asked to suffer. There was still something of the natural self left in him. He initially would have preferred to not have to suffer this unimaginable trial, and he pled for relief (Matthew 26:39). He was forced to deny what remained of his natural self during the atonement. He overcame all temptation. In modern revelation, we read: “He suffered temptations but gave no heed unto them” (D&C 20:22). He did experience or feel the temptations, but he did not succumb. In the setting of the atoning sacrifice, “temptation” is synonymous with adversity. There is no adversity or temptation existing among the family of man he did not personally experience. Hence, there is no suffering he does not fully and personally comprehend.

Armed with courage and complete trust in God, we must unconditionally commit ourselves to willingly accept our lot in life with its attendant sufferings. Recall the unflinching trust and commitment of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego as they entered the fiery furnace. “Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand, O king. But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up” (Daniel 3:17-18). Note here the poignant, touching evidence of their complete commitment in the words “but if not.” If we make the commitment and make evident our trust and courage, he will not leave us to suffer alone in our own personal “fiery furnace.” Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego discovered they were not alone in the furnace. They encountered there a fourth individual “like the Son of God” (Daniel 3:25).

“Righteous Suffering”

The prophet Nephi prophesied of the future ministry of Jesus Christ. He wrote: “He doeth not anything save it be for the benefit of the world; for he loveth the world, even that he layeth down his own life that he may draw all men unto him. Wherefore, he commandeth none that they shall not partake of his salvation” (2 Nephi 26:24). One phrase in this verse refers to a profound and important eternal principle pertinent to our discussion of suffering. Speaking of the Savior’s atonement, Nephi taught: “he layeth down his own life that he may draw all men unto him.” Somehow, the Savior’s atonement provided him with a powerful ability to motivate men—that is, to draw men unto him. Following the Savior’s resurrection he taught, “For this cause have I been lifted up; therefore . . . I will draw all men unto me” (3 Nephi 27:15; see also James 4:10). Because of his atoning sacrifice the Savior exerts a form of spiritual attraction that draws and entices all men unto him. This compelling force is always extended. It reaches out, penetrates every open heart, and helps to fire the desire to repent.

But how does the atonement motivate, invite, and draw all men unto him? What causes this magnetic pull, this spiritual tug? The answer lies within a fascinating principle called “righteous suffering.” There is a certain compelling power that flows from “righteous suffering”—not indiscriminate suffering, not needless suffering, but righteous, voluntary suffering for another. Such suffering for another is the highest and purest form of motivation we can offer to those we love. Contemplate for a moment: How can one change the attitude or the course of conduct of a loved one whose life’s course seems bent on self-destruction? If example fails to influence, words of counsel and kindness go unheeded, and reason and logic are rejected, then where does one turn? Jag Pravesh Chader suggested an alternative approach: “When [the justmentioned attempts to help] fail to produce any salutary effect, voluntarily [one] invites suffering in his own body to open the eyes of the person who is determined to see no light” (E. Stanley Jones, Mahatma Gandhi, 110).

Fasting has often been employed for just such a purpose. The effects of abstinence from food and drink potentially have more far-reaching effects than making us hungry. Fasting does more than humble us and place us in tune with the divine. Fasting has within it a certain inherent power that can change and soften the hearts of others, particularly when they know we are fasting for them. Herein lies a force that can break down the walls of pride and engender true humility, gratitude, and love toward him who so suffers.

A missionary evangelist, E. Stanley Jones, once asked Mahatma Gandhi as he sat on a cot in an open courtyard of Yeravda jail: “Isn’t your fasting a species of coercion?” “Yes,” he said very slowly, “the same kind of coercion which Jesus exercises upon you from the cross.” As Jones reflected upon that sobering rejoinder, he said: “I was silent. It was so obviously true that I am silent again every time I think of it. He was profoundly right. The years have clarified it. And I now see it for what it is: a very morally potent and redemptive power if used rightly. But it has to be used rightly” (Ibid.).

Suffering in behalf of another seems to have its major impact for good when at least four elements are present. First, the sufferer is pure and worthy. Second, the cause for which he suffers is just. Third, the intended beneficiary knows and loves the sufferer. And fourth, the beneficiary sees clearly and understands the cause for which the suffering is occurring. When these four elements exist, the chemistry for human behavioral change is explosive.

Just before the Church was organized the Lord counseled Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery. He forgave them for their shortcomings and encouraged them to be faithful and keep the commandments. In so doing, he gave them a key to spirituality: “Behold the wounds which pierced my side, and also the prints of the nails in my hands and feet” (D&C 6:36-37). The Savior knew that our focused contemplation of his atonement turns our thoughts and actions to him in gratitude. That is why we are so often counseled to remember the Savior and his atonement. To “remember” him is a central component of the sacramental prayers (see D&C 20:77, 79) and a repeated theme of the scriptures (2 Nephi 10:20; Mosiah 4:11, 30).

The Allegory of the Climb

We will summarize our discussion of adversity and suffering with an original parable:

And the Lord took the man to the mountain. And he said, “Climb, my son. Find your own path and climb continually. Climb to your own height. Then I’ll lift you and carry you home. Mind carefully,” said the Lord, “your path will be strewn with rocks and chasms. It will be treacherous and difficult. You will suffer heartache, pain, and fear, and you will be worn before you reach the end. You may rest at times along the way, and I will succor and sustain you. But quickly return to your climb. Pay little attention to the honors that come to you as you climb. Leave them on the path for others to enjoy. Enter not into the worldly places.”

And so the man began to climb. He labored well but eventually grew tired. He rested pleasantly and was nurtured by the Lord. He labored again. Eventually he was tempted, become discouraged, and despaired. He entered into a worldly place and felt immediate relief and pleasure there, but also emptiness. He recalled the mountain, the climb, and the Lord’s command. He turned himself about and got quickly out of that place and continued the climb. Others remained in the worldly place and listed not to return to the climb. Their pleasures became hardships, even hardships they had not before experienced. They were ever after troubled and never returned to the mountain and to the climb.

As the man continued his climb, he stumbled and fell, and stumbled and fell again. But each time, he arose and struggled on. Those on the mountain who were strongest encountered the most difficult obstacles. The man began to gain in strength. The climb became easier, though he still stumbled again and again. He began to take notice of the others on the climb and helped them when he could. He helped the strong and the weak. He paused and pled with those in the worldly places but did not enter. He grew in wisdom and strength and closeness to the Lord. His yearning for his Lord and his eternal home increased. He urged others toward that same yearning.

Finally, he reached his own height and looked about him for the others on the climb. Ere he took thought for himself, he was caught up into the arms of the Lord. The Lord carried him the rest of the way up the mountain and home.

Interpretation of the Parable

The Lord showed him the mountain. The Lord Jesus Christ does not micromanage every aspect of our lives here. By the principle of foreordination, he does dispatch each of us to the earth where and when he wishes. He does this to serve his own purposes. He wishes to build his earthly kingdom and encourage obedience of all mankind to his law. He shows us the mountain and commands us to climb. He assigns us a specific height we must achieve, but keeps it to himself and allows each of us to seek our own path and our own level. There is a right path and level for each of us, and it is determined by our premortal abilities. Each individual is unique. The pathway and trials of each individual differs from those of all others.

The climb. By his command to climb, he urges us to be obedient to his commands. Keeping the commandments is a struggle because of our “natural selves.” It is an uphill path. It is difficult. Those who climb well will experience the pain and suffering of self denial and obstacles (adversities) encountered along the way. Mortality is arduous and hazardous. Only a relative “few” will attain their assigned height (Matthew 7:13-14, 3 Nephi 27:33).

Climb continually. The most important criterion for the Lord’s judgment of us is that we persist in climbing, pausing only appropriately to rest. The exact circumstances of our lives are neither pre-destined nor pre-determined. The complete nature of our mortal experience is not subject to exact detailed prediction as we begin. Most trials we face are simply the consequence of the true nature of this world. They are not necessarily orchestrated by the Lord. Nor are they necessarily caused by our own wrong choices. The important obligation we have is to endure. We must continue to strive and grow at all hazards. When we stumble and fall, we must screw up our courage, arise, and begin to climb again. We may stop to admire the view, and we must give thanks for our blessings. Then we must begin again. We must be pro-active, not passive, in our obedience.

The worldly places. Entering into worldly places represents sin. It represents giving in to our natural self. For all humankind, the pain of the climb seems, at times, nearly overwhelming. All are tempted from time to time to stray from their path and cease to climb. They may become discouraged to the point of despair by life’s problems and the difficulty of self denial. But they recover and climb again. For others, the climb is too difficult. They decide it is just not for them. Their diversion into worldliness is not temporary. It becomes permanent.

Anyone who wishes can enter into these worldly places—these inviting detours. There they might find temporary and specious “rest” from their climb. At first it seems delicious and desirable. There they appease the tugs of their natural self. In these worldly places, they experience the temptation to not return to the climb. The likeminded fellowship of others there provides support when they do not return. And, tragically, many do not return.

He who returns to and endures in the climb will inevitably reap the spiritual growth consequent to that striving. Those who inhabit worldly places not only stop growing spiritually, they actually deteriorate spiritually. Indeed, they lose spiritual gifts they formerly possessed (D&C 1:31-33; 82:7). The pattern of our spiritual growth and our living up to the Lord’s expectations are likely the most important criteria by which the Lord will judge us.

Worldliness is its own reward. It never leads to abiding happiness (Alma 41:10). It never results in true spiritual joy. The great irony of these worldly retreats is that the avoidance of the climb and the seeking after the satisfactions of the world inevitably bring new difficulties that otherwise might have been avoided. There can be no question these individuals bring adversity upon themselves by their own wrong choices.

These self-inflicted problems can be overcome. Spiritual strength may result from doing so. But the motivation to do so is not easily forthcoming. For those who remain in the worldly places, the thoughts of returning to the climb loom as particularly onerous. Eventually, great obstacles rise up before these individuals, rendering the odds of their returning to the climb unlikely. The scriptures describe these as being caught up in the “chains of hell” (Alma 12:9-11) and “past feeling” (Ephesians 4:19; 1 Nephi 17:45; Moroni 9:20).

Each mortal will, from time to time, inevitably set a foot in these worldly retreats. Fortunately, some will turn about quickly and beat a hasty retreat. The more time an individual spends there, the less likely is his return to a path of obedience and self denial.

I will succor and sustain you. The sustenance the Master affords us on the path is the support we derive from being a member of his earthly kingdom with all the human and spiritual benefits that accrue therefrom. It is also the subtle but sure ministrations of the Spirit of God who reveals to us our Savior’s love. Man cannot succeed on the path of life alone. He must find help from the ministrations of the Lord himself and from his earthly servants. The Lord helps all along the way, and the longer the man persists on the climb and the higher he goes, the more he is succored by the Lord.

Honors that come to the righteous. The medals and honors received during the lives of the righteous obedient are worldly blessings. These often accompany a wholesome life of obedience to the Lord’s commands. These may include material wealth and other honors of men. These are not enduring. The truly righteous person will often choose to downplay, if not ignore, these honors. Thus, he defuses the dangers that accompany them.

The strength acquired incident to the climb. As we succeed in obeying in spite of all obstacles, during our climb, we receive incremental attributes of Christ. These cause us to grow in spiritual strength. The higher we climb the stronger we become. This spiritual strength enhances our joy and enthusiasm for the climb. It renders our struggles somehow easier to endure and increases our commitment to the climb. We become better, stronger climbers. It also turns our attentions outward from ourselves to others who are also struggling along the path.

There is no strength to be had in the worldly places. In fact, those who remain in them experience a steady dwindling or loss of their spiritual strength.

Climb to your own height. Suppose the entire height of the mountain represents the amount of the Savior’s suffering during his atoning sacrifice. You may start up the mountain, but you cannot ever get to the top. Each of us is an individual with his or her own abilities and capacities. Using this metaphor, the Lord will draw a line at a certain level on this mountain for each one of us. This is the height to which he expects us to climb.

Those mortals who achieved the most in the premortal sphere will be expected to do more (climb higher and farther in mortality) than those who were less obedient and less valiant in pre-earthly life (D&C 82:3; Acts 12:48). The Lord knows intimately the heart and capacity of each individual. He expects each to reach only his “own height.” Then the Lord, by virtue of his atoning sacrifice, will assume the rest of the load.

1 See a discussion of godly sorrow in chapter 3.

See “Perquisite Gifts of the Spirit” in volume 1, chapter 8, The Blessings of Spiritual Gifts.

See “The Sequence or Cascade of Sin” and “Strategies for Defense” in volume 2, chapter 8, Applications of the Principle of Charity.

See item number 5 under the heading, “The Infinite Nature of Christ’s Atonement” in volume 2, chapter 2, The Consequences of the Savior’s Atonement.

5 For a more complete discussion of the characteristics and role of Satan, see volume 1 chapter 16, The Role of Satan.

6 To fully appreciate the intimate relationship of empathy and charity, see volume 2, chapter 6, Charity as Empathy, and chapter 7, Charity as a Revealed Sense of Others.

For further discussion of this issue see “Other Benefits of the Lord’s Atonement” in volume 1, chapter 19, The Essence of the Lord’s Atonement.