All opinions are always 100% honest and my own. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. I also participate in: CJ Affiliate; eBay Partner Network; Rakuten Affiliate Network; ShareASale; Walmart Affiliate Program; independent affiliate networks.
Debt is interesting. It lets us “buy” things we don't have but need. However, it also lets us buy things we don't need but want. Through debt, our needs can be met—fully and completely—without regard for whether or not we can pay the cost. However, through debt our wants are bought on credit—often including an interest rate that is impossible to repay. In all cases, debt has a significant impact on how we see ourselves and the world around us. This paradox (debt as a provider of both the necessary and unnecessary —as natural and chosen—as freeing and enslaving) has a fascinating impact on spiritual poverty.
Debt is defined as owing for something that is possessed now (conditionally) but will be paid for later—or lost if payment is not made. It occurs when someone who has insufficient money to purchase something borrows from one who has sufficient money to make the purchase—and generally includes an agreement to pay interest for that purchase. This means that the “buyer” ends up paying more—often substantially more—for the item purchased than the original, cash cost.
What are the spiritual implications of this situation?
Being “poor in spirit” commonly is defined as being humble—recognizing our inability to make adequate payments to “purchase” our salvation. It includes having to turn to one (Jesus) who possesses enough to make up the difference of what we cannot pay—combining with our own infinitesimally small contribution to satisfy an infinite price. In this way, we recognize that we are unavoidably indebted to God—that we incurred a debt when we accepted Jehovah's offer in the pre-existence to be our Savior and Redeemer—both titles that describe our “inherent” spiritual debt. What we often fail to understand is that no matter how much spiritual capital we possess—even if we are prophets and visionaries and seers and orators extraordinaire—our contribution added to His contribution equals not one penny more than the spiritual capital of a serial killer added to His contribution. It is not our contribution that makes the payment complete—that “redeems” our debt; it is the combining of ours with His.
There is one interesting twist to this formula—and it is in this twist that the paradox of spiritual debt arises—where the irrational numbers of grace appear.
We are told very clearly that all that is required is all that we are able to give. The exact phrase is: “We are saved by grace, after all we can do.” I have employed a common linguistic tactic to highlight the meaning of this sentence, as such: “(Even) after all we can do, it is (still) by grace that we are saved.” This stresses that our own efforts will never be enough—that no matter what we do, we still need His grace. However, it also says that we are required to give our all—that nothing less will suffice.
This is where debt enters the picture. We are told to realize that we can add nothing to the grace of God that will “earn” our salvation; we also are told, however, that we cannot subtract from our offering without affecting the results of that grace.
What is the point of this distinction? Going back to the financial analysis, worldly debt forces us to give money to someone who is already rich (and getting richer from the payments of the poor)—which means that we are unable to give that money to those who need it—to our fellow poor. It means that we lengthen the course of our poverty and put our agency (in how we use our resources) in the hands of people who only extend the credit that binds our potential to do good specifically in order to raise themselves above us and keep us bound as long and as tightly as possible. Rather than being poor voluntarily in order to alleviate destitution in others, we are poor by the explicit intentions of those who are dedicated to encouraging destitution. In summary, debt makes us complicit in the separation and polarization of mankind—in furthering the disunity of our fellow (wo)man.
Spiritually, there are two kinds of debt. The first is that which cannot be avoided by anyone as a simple and natural consequence of the Fall. This type of debt is what the Atonement covers without reservation and without condition. (our inherited tempers, our genetically-addictive tendencies, our insecurities, our weaknesses, our shortcomings, etc.) This is the debt that we must recognize in order to see our natural —and equal—poverty and petition the Almighty for the application of His grace. Redeeming this debt frees us to focus on taking our limited resources and providing them for the work of that Redeemer—sharing our spiritual capacities with fellow debtors—helping them recognize their own purchased state, so they also can share their spiritual capital with their fellow debtors—repeated ad infinitum in an ever-increasing and widening circle of influence and moving a community toward the unity that defines Zion. It is a state of communal sharing of what has been redeemed—what naturally is owed to the Redeemer, but which is placed by Him in His infinite, communal account from which all may draw. It manifests itself in a spirit of sharing—of caring for others enough to forgo individual wants in the pursuit of collective needs.
The second kind of spiritual debt is that which can be avoided—that which we acquire through the conscious choices we make—that which subtracts from our all and keeps us from offering that all to Him. Such debt can be redeemed, but it requires our repentance—the changing of our hearts and the elimination of those choices that cause us to incur those debts. This type of debt puts us in bondage to one who exacts interest—to whom we can end up paying over and over and over again, with no end of payments in sight and with no access to a communal account from which we can draw for support. This eventually leaves us spiritually destitute —unable to provide even the basic spiritual necessities for ourselves and our loved ones and, just as importantly, unable to participate in God's work and glory of raising and empowering and enabling and ennobling His children. Rather than being partakers in the combined distribution of His grace, we become unable to focus on Him and His will and become consumed in our own misery and deprivation. It manifests itself in an attempt spiritually to “keep up with the Joneses”—to be more spiritual than others—to become proud and condescending and dismissive and judgmental.
Thus, we are told to recognize our unavoidable spiritual poverty—in fact, to become poor in spirit—but we are commanded just as forcefully to avoid spiritual destitution—by avoiding choices that consume our spiritual capital and bind us to he who is interested only in gaining power and glory through our enslavement. We are to recognize our natural, involuntary indebtedness to participate in His work and glory while simultaneously avoiding intentional, voluntary spiritual debt that keeps us from being able to do so.
Understanding this difference is what leads one to “sing the song of redeeming love”—and this difference is what keeps the spiritually poor from spiritual destitution.
Alison Moore Smith is a 61-year-old entrepreneur who graduated from BYU in 1987. She has been (very happily) married to Samuel M. Smith for 40 years. They are parents of six incredible children and grandparents to two astounding grandsons. She is the author of The 7 Success Habits of Homeschoolers.
I remember when I finally “got” this doctrine.. when it finally hit me how no matter how “good” I am, how many good works I do, how obedient I am to the commandments, that non of it really profits me anything without the Savior and His atonement.
We ALL sin. We all fall short of the glory of God. Period. We can never make ourselves perfect no matter how hard we try. No greatness, no sacrifice we make, even our own lives, could ever be enough. We can only become perfected THROUGH Him. His grace is absolutely essential.
Lovely post, Ray.
Question though–
could you elaborate on something for me?
I do understand, as I already expressed, that we all are an “an enemy to God”- as we are all sinners in this state of morality and being a “natural man” we WILL all sin, make bad choices, etc.
But I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying here.
It almost sounds like you’re saying we have to be forgiven of things that are out of our control, which sounds a little too “original sin”-like.
For example, if someone has a genetically addictive tendency, because their parents were alcoholics and drug addicts, they’d only need to be forgiven if they ACTED on that tendency, not for HAVING the gene. The ACTING is the choice, which is the “second” kind of spiritual debt you talked about. But why would they need to be forgiven for the ‘first” kind of spiritual debt, (being born with a genetically addictive tendency) if that was out of their control in the first place?
Why would I need to be forgiven for being born with insecurities and shortcomings? (And really, I’m not sure that we are. A baby isn’t “insecure” about things, nor do they have “shortcomings”. A baby grows up and BECOMES insecure about things through his environment, interactions with others, personal experiences, etc) He DEVELOPS shortcomings, (deing dishonest, having a temper, etc) as he learns how to manipulate and tries to control his enviornment, interactions with others, etc)
But isn’t the idea that we have a debt to pay (that we CAN’T pay) just for being BORN “a natural man” who will grow up to have weakness, shortcomings, etc , like saying I need to be forgiven just for being born “human”? Sounds a little “Catholic” to me.
Am I misunderstanding what you’re saying?
“Am I misunderstanding what you’re saying?”
Yes. I am saying the opposite of original sin. 😉
I am saying that the things you mentioned have been “forgiven” (We have been “redeemed” from their effects.) already because of the choice we made to follow the Father’s plan and not rebel. I’m saying that our entrance into our second estate (with few exceptions) guarantees our receipt of a better third estate. The things we inherit naturally aren’t SIN in the way we normally translate that word; they are the result of Adam’s TRANSGRESSION – since we didn’t choose them. Since they have been “forgiven” already, that frees us to focus on developing characteristics that will eliminate them as we become more Christ-like. I’m also saying that is why little children don’t have to be baptized – because their natural tendencies don’t constitute sin; they just constitute the result of Adam’s transgression.
face, I’m also saying that SOME actions that get labeled as “sin” might actually be “transgression” – if they are so deeply ingrained into us that we simply are unable to fully change them in this life. “Sin” does not mean “mistake” or “incorrect action”.
I see this in the issue of depression, for example. If a new mother succumbs to post-partum depression and acts accordingly, I have a hard time classifying that as sin. If it isn’t within one’s control, it is outside the realm of things for which we will be punished.
Granted, we won’t be rewarded unless we work to change (repent), but we won’t be punished, either.
Oh, and admitting depression and seeking medical help constitutes an effort to change – which means taking proper meds prescribed by a doctor can be an integral part of “repentance” (changing the natural [wo]man).
This hits to the core of why we can’t judge INDIVIDUALS on their “worthiness quotient.”
It IS wrong to sit around and do nothing but mope. That’s not what God gave us life for. But whether or not a particular person is SINNING by doing so is impossible for OTHER HUMANS to judge. God knows what each person’s capacity and limitations are, and only he knows how well we are doing with regard to our potential.
Good point, Alison.
Tracy, I know this but am still learning how to truly and completely apply this is in my own life. I am by far a worse critic of myself than of others…
Great post, Ray.
I enjoyed your post, too, Ray. I can tell you’ve put in a lot of thought about this. I just want to make a comment about depression.
This has been on my mind all week. I hope you sisters (and any brothers) will help me think this through. It was kind of a traumatic experience for me.
What is charity? Is it doing for others what they would LIKE to have done for them–or is it doing for others what they NEED to have done for them? As we cross paths with the mentally ill, some decisions have to be made about their ability or inability. I am not talking about judging their characters; I’m talking about making decisions about how much accountability to allow for. It’s a tough call, a constant dilemma. It is never static; mentally ill people have abilities that change regularly. But determining that they are CONSTANTLY inept because they are SOMETIMES inept doesn’t serve them well, either; it only enforces the negative behavior. If all that is being enforced is negative behavior, can that be charity? To do for someone what she can and should do for herself? I’ve been round and round with this all week. The Atonement covers actual inability, but what, if anything, can and will it do for only assumed inability? What should WE do about actual and assumed inability?
I guess this has been on my mind because of a recent situation in our ward. There is a single sister in our ward who is the divorced mother of two children. My husband has moved her FOUR TIMES. Her parents and her big, strong brothers are in town, but they never come to help with the moving. They always have “sore backs” or “sore knees”–which is fine, but by the time my husband is done moving her, he can barely walk himself because his own back and knees are so sore. She either has no friends, or they aren’t the sort of friends who will come to help when there are problems. Her children are twelve and ten, so they are big enough to help, also, but they never do. This sister and her ex-husband have joint custody, and the children are always at his house when it is time to move. The ex-husband is also in town. This sister has been in and out of a mental hospital near here, and the diagnosis is depression. I’m well acquainted with this. My mother has been treated in that same hospital, too, and the doctors told us it had been a long time since they had seen anyone as seriously depressed as my mother was. It had progressed to psychotic, almost catatonic depression–and that is a scary thing to watch, if you’ve ever seen it. She also has Parkinson’s disease, which causes her to shake terribly, but she still manages to do her laundry and some of the other housework. My daughter is severely bipolar, and her ability to control herself changes hourly, even when she takes the medication faithfully. It is difficult to know what to expect of her, how much to insist that she do what she is able to do. She occasionally uses her illness as a crutch when she doesn’t want to do something she could do if she wanted to. I’m always guessing about her ability. And praying.
This sister I spoke of is, unfortunately, a hoarder. There is no reason to it. The Relief Society presidency informed me that I “had” to come to help move her, because no one else would. I told her I was babysitting, but she indicated that she expected me to come anyway. One counselor didn’t come. The other stayed for one hour. (The Relief Society president left at noon, because–get this–she had to babysit her grandchildren. It is hard not to be resentful.) This sister’s house was so covered in garbage that you literally had to move some before you could put your foot down. The R.S. Pres. assigned me to do the dishes, and I did dishes for two hours, dishes that had been there at least a month. Her overflowing garbage can was so moldy it was literally causing me difficulty breathing; I had to set it outside. She had a saucepan that had burnt spaghetti in it three inches thick. I had to pound it with the handle of a metal spatula to break it up enough to get it out of the pan. I did this while the sister packed books in the living room. Who should actually be the one to do the moldy dishes? If she couldn’t get off the bed, that’s one thing, but if she was able to pack books, I think doing stacks and stacks of disgusting dishes would have been within her capability, if not her desire.
Her daughter is twelve, and she hasn’t played with dolls in a long time, but the mother had FOUR actual, full-size car seats on the top bunk of her daughter’s bed–all for the dolls. We filled two refrigerator containers to the brim with the daughter’s stuffed animals. I got to pack her clothes, and she had over two-hundred things hanging in her closets. We packed huge Tupperware containers full of craft supplies. She doesn’t have a few craft supplies; she has tons and tons and tons of craft supplies. You’d have to see it to believe it. (This sister feels well enough to do crafts endlessly. The depression doesn’t seem to affect that.)
Someone said once, “Your right to swing your fist ends where my nose begins.” I believe wholeheartedly that people should be allowed to live the way they want to–until it really infringes on someone else’s rights. I DON’T believe the wards she lives in should continue to have to pack her up and move her just because she doesn’t WANT to move, or get rid of, her millions of things. She has all those things, but she can’t pay her rent; the ward pays it pretty regularly. (Yeah, her possessions could be gifts, but that much?) She won’t get a job; she says she needs to be there for her kids, but she doesn’t have them half the time. It really seems to be a matter of want. She is able to do what she WANTS to do; she just doesn’t WANT to. She told me her plan was, if no one came to help her move, she was going to sit on her bed and cry. That was her only solution.
Well, it’s a tough call. Judgments, or at least decisions, do have to be made. Should the ward continue to offer her “charity” in the form of labor–labor which she is able, but unwilling, to perform herself? Or do acts of “charity” support a way of life that isn’t pleasing to the Lord? Sometimes, maybe, the kindest thing is to refuse the enabling, to gently insist that she do for herself what she can and should do. That thought has crossed my mind; I have really studied and prayed to know. She will never haul herself out of her awful predicament if people just continue to “do” for her. The way of the Church is self-reliance first, then reliance on extended family, and third on the Church. That isn’t meant to be a cruel system; it is an empowering system. Agency is crucial to the development of mankind. It would be different, perhaps, if the ward hadn’t moved her four times in one year. I almost feel sorry for her new bishop, because he doesn’t know what he has coming. She doesn’t have the determination to put a halt to this mess herself, and there doesn’t seem to be anyone in her life who cares enough about her to put a halt to it. I feel like it isn’t in her best interest to continue to just close our eyes and coddle her. It’s just a sad, sad situation, and my heart aches for her. She really is a nice person, and we get along well.
I think we’ve had this discussion before, about compassionate service leaders that seem less than compassionate. Yes, we aren’t qualified to decide that this sister is committing sin when she creates such a huge amount of filth in her house and then expects others to move it for her; we don’t know her mental state. But we do have to make decisions about how to handle the situation, and I am confused about what charity would require of us. I don’t feel good when I DO help her. I don’t feel good when I DON’T help her. She is constantly calling for help; I’ve helped her many times already. I really do wonder what the Savior would do. He didn’t feed the 5000 when they came for fish and bread the second day; He sent them away. President Monson says the Lord helps those who help themselves. Help from the Church is meant to be temporary, not ongoing, except in very unusual cases. I wonder what the Savior would do for those who refuse to help themselves? Or who help themselves minimally while others help them maximumly? I have been praying about it, but your wisdom would be so appreciated, too. I always learn a lot from you.
Gotcha, Ray!!
I can only commiserate with Davidson’s comment.
And the worst is getting cockroaches infesting my car from moving people.
I think I have to draw the line at cockroaches! :shocked:
Although I won’t have much time to comment today–trust me, my head is swirling.
Davidsom, you are spot on. I’ve tried to appropriately redefine the Golden Rule, but haven’t quite got it yet. I do NOT think that it’s quite accurate to say, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Maybe it’s just a reflection of my poor character, but I’d LOVE for someone to bring us dinner every single night of the week. And I wouldn’t mind if they’d mow and weed the gardens, either. And schedule all my appointments for me. Now, I promise I’ll be doing IMPORTANT PRODUCTIVE things while you are all taking care of my mundane needs. So it will be OK.
I’ll relate just one story. In Boca a huge bunch of the high priests’ group (isn’t this the ELDERS job???) showed up to move a family. The family had three teenagers, one girl and two boys. One of the boys was 18-19 with huge muscles.
While the “old men” moved thousands of boxes, the teenagers played video games or watched TV. :confused: One man–who came to volunteer, even though he had moved to the city with his wife only a week earlier himself–had a heart attack and DIED in the seat of the moving truck. 😥
That’s so sad, Alison. And thank you for your comment, Naismith.
While I was praying about this, a phrase came to my mind: “. . .sick, and in prison, and ye visited me.” Maybe that is the answer. People make their own prisons. Charity is caring about them, VISITING them in their affliction–but not moving in, not becoming their cell-mates, perhaps? Loving them, but allowing them to deal with the very real consequences of their own bad choices?
Was it a loving Lord who put these ideas in His scriptures?
“By much slothfulness the building decayeth; and through idleness of the hands the house droppeth through.” Eccl. 10:12
(Wow, that’s descriptive!)
“The sluggard willl not plow by reason of the cold; therefore shall he beg in harvest, and have nothing.” Proverbs 20:4
(It’s okay to call a man a sluggard? Isn’t that passing a judgment? Deliberately allowing a man to have nothing when he begs, is that charity? Hmmmm. Maybe.)
“For even when we were with you, this we commanded you, that if any should not work, neither should he eat.” 2 Thess. 3:14
“Let all things be done in cleanliness before me. Thou shalt not be idle; for he that is idle shall not eat the bread nor wear the garments of the laborer.”D & C 42:41–42
“Let every man be diligent in all things. And the idler shall not have place in the Church, except he repent and mend his ways.”
D & C 75:29
Doesn’t sound soft and spineless to me. Oh, it’s a puzzle, constantly wonder what justice and mercy require.
one thought that occurred to me, davidson – – we are always blessed when we help others. It is the stewardship of the bishop or RS president or the EQ president or HP group leader (depending on the situation) to determine what help is offered by the ward. (Thank goodness! ) It is up to us to determine, when asked, whether or not we can reasonably fulfill a request. I am not suggesting that we should not allow ourselves our feelings! But we are to try to overcome them. Davidson, when your RS president calls you, it is perfectly reasonable to say, “I would help if I could but I have other commitments/obligations today.” Isn’t that the same as the person who says, “I give not, because I have not but if I did have, I would give”? I think it is when we overextend ourselves that we can become resentful–that is when our burden seems heavy and we see, so clearly, all the reasons why we shouldn’t help.
I can remember so many times, when I had to deal with welfare issues, that I would be going to a family to fill out a food order. . . again. And my “natural woman” would be thinking “Why are we helping them again? Why aren’t they doing more to help themselves?” and on, and on. But *always* while I was there, the Spirit would testify that it was right and that this help came directly from the Lord. It was the bishop’s stewardship to determine whether or not the food order was appropriate, and mine stewardship was to help the family fill out the order and help them make arrangements to pick it up. *I*, in my natural mind, might never understand why, but thankfully, I don’t have to.