As He Is

by Autumn Dickson

The message I want to share about Christ today is a message I have taught indirectly through other topics for some time. It is a message that has changed my relationship with Him, and therefore, it is a message that has changed my life into a joyful and hopeful one. I am so immensely grateful for it.

This year in Come Follow Me, we have read The Book of Mormon. It is called The Book of Mormon because of the prophet, Mormon, who compiled all of the records together so that they might one day be turned into a book. There is a book subtitle that is extremely important; book subtitles are meant to give context and help a reader prepare to look for the message that was meant to be received. The subtitle of The Book of Mormon is, “Another Testament of Jesus Christ.” The entire book was written with that purpose in mind. Every chapter was crafted to help us understand Him and how He works among the children of men.

There have been a great many times in my life where I have misinterpreted this book, and there will likely be many more times in the future where I likewise continue to misinterpret it. Because of these misinterpretations, I have often assigned characteristics to my Savior that simply don’t fit Him. I have seen anger and wrath, rather than desperate attempts to wake His children up. I have seen condemning warnings, rather than loving advice that was meant to challenge me and push me to live my life at a higher plane.

I testify that The Book of Mormon testifies of the true Christ, and I testify that the Spirit can help us to know Him as He is.

An extreme level

I want to teach what I mean on an extreme level. I teach it this way for two reasons: one, because I believe that seeing it in an extreme case can help us decipher it in more subtle cases and two, because I have observed a common phenomenon that I think could use a direct approach.

I have a dear friend that I grew up with; she was abused by her father. For a long time, she stayed close to the church and tried to follow its teachings. She went to church with her family as she watched her abusive father get called as a priesthood leader in the ward, and she would go home and listen to him scream at her family as they ate Sunday dinner together. In fact, she talks about how she can still smell the pot roast and hear her father yelling. He was manipulative and sneaky. He was narcissistic and controlling. When he praised his kids, it was because it made him look like a good father. When he spoke of his love for his wife, it was in his own defense of how he always treated her right. He was extremely insecure, and those closest to him suffered because of it.

And yet, despite the turmoil at home, many people at church adored him.

Our brains are funny things. The Lord created our brains in a very specific manner. Your experiences, especially those very early experiences at home, often form the framework with how you view the rest of your life. Your brain does this on a literal scale. It’s physically forming connections that push your thoughts in certain directions.

The Lord built our brains like this on purpose. When you put your hand on a hot stove, you learn very quickly that you don’t want to do it again. He did this because in many ways, it protects us. Babies, in their first few years of life, form millions of neural connections every single second. This pruning and building in the brain is happening at a much faster rate than any other point in our lives. Everything a baby experiences forms one of these connections, and this is how they learn so quickly.

Let me put that in the context of my friend.

Because of her early experiences at home, her brain taught her to mistrust certain characteristics. This is what we know as “triggers.” She has an extreme mistrust of the prophets and apostles because those men have similar characteristics (white, male, priesthood leader) to someone who was harmful towards her, and her brain sends flashing warning signals in her mind whenever she hears them speak. She finds them creepy; she assumes their dishonesty. She believes they’re simply seeking their own benefit.

Our blueprint for everything gets originally created at home when we are young children (hmmm I wonder why families were so important to the Lord…). This blueprint can change, but it is very difficult to physically alter some of those connections that were so thoroughly put in place when we were simply babies, especially connections that were formed, repeated, and cemented over and over and over and over and over again.

After everything she experienced at the hands of her father, after all the harm it caused her, is it any wonder that her brain would send neon flashing signals that she needs to be wary of these other men who reflect her father? Is it any wonder that she imagines those men, preaching at the pulpit, going home to be unkind to their families? Is it any wonder that she doesn’t want to hear about a Savior who preached about Himself? No matter how many good actions we can read about the Savior in the scriptures, she will see the facade that her father created.

Needless to say, she’s not a member anymore.

The more subtle connections

Now, like I said, this was an extreme example, but the principle remains and it has plentiful implications. What you experience at home is the blueprint through which you view everything, including religion, leadership, and God. What you know about Christ often starts with how your parents loved you.

So when I read The Book of Mormon, or any words about Christ, I am going to interpret how Christ is acting according to what I learned at home.

Implication number one. We take the name of Jesus Christ upon us when we are baptized. One of the ten commandments is to not take His name in vain. Surely, we don’t need to be saying unholy variations of “Oh my gosh,” but more importantly, we need to act in a way that reflects Christ if we’re going to try and call ourselves members of His church. The damage that can be caused by people who call themselves Christian but act decidedly un-Christian is immense.

This doesn’t mean we have to act perfect because that’s impossible. No one will be able to perfectly reflect the Savior even when they’re the prophet, His literal mouthpiece on the earth. There is a responsibility on the part of the giver to try and reflect the Savior, but there is also a responsibility on the part of the receiver to be compassionate to weakness, to decipher honest but imperfect attempts to resemble Him, and to separate the imperfections of their daily interactions with the perfection of the Savior.

Which leads me to my second implication.

To know Him

Home is the blueprint in which we view the Savior. This doesn’t mean we go and blame our parents if we don’t feel close to the Savior. As I have become a parent, my eyes have been opened to just how hard it is to do the right thing. My parents did a fantastic job, and because of that, I know that my brain was literally set up to have healthy relationships as well as a good foundation to build upon. My parents were not perfect, but they gave me a pretty dang good starting place with which to know my Savior.

There are other reasons we don’t blame our parents for the gaps in understanding about our Savior. There have been times when I have tried to communicate to my children, “I love you so I’m setting this boundary, and I’m pushing you to be independent even though it’s uncomfortable for you.” I fully, whole-heartedly (mostly because they tell me in plain terms) that the message that was received is, “You don’t care that I’m uncomfortable; you must not love me.”

The blueprint we form at home comes from direct instruction and actions from our parents, but it’s also formed on erroneous interpretations that came about because we were tired toddlers or angsty teenagers.

All of this is important to understand because it empowers us to change our blueprint on purpose. It empowers us to change the lens in which we view the Savior. It allows us to disengage with the characteristics we projected onto the Savior that simply aren’t there.

If you often feel like you’re annoying, this is going to affect your relationship with Christ. If you feel like you’re a constant burden, you’re not going to turn to Him for help. If you think nobody cares what you do or how you act, this is going to be reflected in how you choose to follow God.

The Savior is perfect. He perfectly loves you, and He is perfectly capable of saving and supporting you. He wants to be around you. He wants to be reunited with you.

Is that what you see when you think of Him? Or do you see the imperfections of this world and project them on to Him? When you read The Book of Mormon (or any account of the Savior), are you interpreting His actions as they are? Or are you looking at Him through a distorted, damaged lens?

The best thing I ever did was try and embrace my Savior as He truly is, to embrace His love, to view His actions as extensions of that love. If you are one of those who find themselves with a truly broken blueprint (or even just someone with the normal errors), then my message is the same. The Savior is perfectly able to heal, uplift, and bless you, but you have to believe. You have to choose to see Him in the proper light. He can’t force you to believe that He is who He says He is. No matter how often He has professed His love or chosen His actions according to that love, it will not matter if you refuse to believe His intentions were love. It won’t matter if you stubbornly hold to the blueprint that was handed to you rather than allowing Him to heal you and change your life.

I testify that He is all who He says He is. I testify that everything we read about in The Book of Mormon this year teaches us about Him, but we have to interpret those words with the help of the Spirit. I testify that He can heal and change lives.

 

 

Autumn Dickson was born and raised in a small town in Texas. She served a mission in the Indianapolis Indiana mission. She studied elementary education but has found a particular passion in teaching the gospel. Her desire for her content is to inspire people to feel confident, peaceful, and joyful about their relationship with Jesus Christ and to allow that relationship to touch every aspect of their lives. Autumn was the recipient of FAIR’s 2024 John Taylor Defender of the Faith Award.

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