from Clayton Christensen a metaphor. Published in The Power of Everyday Missionaries, by Clayton Christensen. His metaphor for the Restoration, and the Joseph Smith Story. I’ve never been to heaven, of course, ... But in trying to imagine what it is like, one metaphor that helps me is to imagine that God has constructed massive libraries in heaven. The shelves in these libraries are filled with books that are packed with truths, insights, and answers. Most of the books have never been checked out. Why, you might ask, are these stored in these libraries, rather than having have been distributed broadly to people on earth? The reason is that people learn when they’re ready to learn, not when we’re ready to teach them. So if God directed a heavenly librarian to get the answer to question #23 off the shelf and send it down to some random person on earth, the answer would simply not be noticed. But when we ask a question, it is as if we put a Velcro pad in our brain where we need the answer. When the answer is then delivered, it sticks itself to the Velcro right where it is needed. The rule is this: Anybody on earth can check out any book—but the catch is that you need to ask the question first. I’ve never been to heaven, of course, I told him. But in trying to imagine what it is like, one metaphor that helps me is to imagine that God has constructed massive libraries in heaven. The shelves in these libraries are filled with books that are packed with truths, insights, and answers. Most of the books have never been checked out. Why, you might ask, are these stored in these libraries, rather than having have been distributed broadly to people on earth? The reason is that people learn when they’re ready to learn, not when we’re ready to teach them. So if God directed a heavenly librarian to get the answer to question #23 off the shelf and send it down to some random person on earth, the answer would simply not be noticed. But when we ask a question, it is as if we put a Velcro pad in our brain where we need the answer. When the answer is then delivered, it sticks itself to the Velcro right where it is needed. The rule is this: Anybody on earth can check out any book—but the catch is that you need to ask the question first. I told my friend that in the third century after Christ’s death, the leaders of the early Christian Church essentially announced that God had given them all of the answers. And believing that they had received all the answers, there was no need to ask questions of God. When they stopped asking questions, revelation from heaven stopped. There was no need for prophets. These leaders essentially turned off the lights on the earth and plunged mankind into the dark ages. Reformers like Luther, Wesley, and Calvin started asking questions again. But their questions were largely targeted to each other, debating interpretations of the answers that had been given centuries ago. They created churches that were differentiated one from another by the way they interpreted the answers. These men did enormous good in making the Bible available to people in their own languages and in explaining what it meant. But they did not revisit the basic conclusion of their early leaders—that all of the answers had been given to mankind. I then told my friend that in 1820 in upstate New York, a fourteen-year-old boy, Joseph Smith, prayed to God, asking a simple question: Which, of all these churches, should he join? God and His Son Jesus Christ actually came down from heaven to personally give him the answer—that he should join none of them, because they were wrong. A simple boy asked a simple question and got a simple answer. And then they left. For three more years, Joseph received no more answers from God because he essentially didn’t ask any more questions. Then in 1823, at age seventeen, Joseph again prayed with a question—which in today’s language essentially was this: “I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch, but it’s not clear whether the ball is in my court or yours. Is there something you want me to do?” Immediately, an angel, Moroni, appeared and began answering Joseph’s question about what God wanted him to do—and why. Interestingly, however, the librarians in the heavenly libraries didn’t announce over the loudspeaker system, “We’ve finally got our man down there. Let’s empty the libraries and give that guy everything we’ve got!” Instead, over the next twenty years, Joseph Smith repeatedly asked questions of God about things he didn’t understand. And God answered those questions step by step, clarifying questions about some of the answers that already been revealed and giving him additional truth. And to keep it all in perspective, God assured Joseph that He didn’t plan to give him all the answers at that point—that there were many great and important things pertaining to the kingdom of God that He would give to them in the future—provided, of course, that they keep asking questions. I explained to my new friend that while we refer to the work of Luther, Wesley, Calvin, and others as the Reformation, we call the story of Joseph Smith the beginning of the Restoration of the original church that Jesus established. In essence, it restored questions to the earth, which then elicited answers that man had previously not known. Because of this, we have learned much more about God’s plan for us than is known among those who decided eighteen centuries ago that there were no more answers, no more questions. The salient difference between other churches and the LDS Church isn’t a difference of orthodoxy versus unorthodoxy. Rather, it is the difference in the depth and breadth of understanding of God’s plan for us. And this comes from the quality of the questions that are being asked. Oddly, the reason why some people frame Mormonism as “strange” is that we are in fact unique! We don’t believe that God has ever given mankind all of the answers—and so we continue to ask. “Got it,” my friend noted. “But doesn’t it bother you that it is predicated on a fourteen-year-old boy speaking with God and angels? To me, it is just an incredible story—as in not a credible story.” “Think about it this way,” I responded. “Imagine that you were in heaven, wanting to give truth and insight and answers to mankind. Would you choose a spokesman for you on earth who truly believes that heaven already has given everything that is to be given? Or might you prefer instead someone whose mind is filled with questions, someone who is eager to get answers? Would you prefer someone who has advanced degrees from a divinity school, or a boy?” I then summarized the background information about people whom God had called to become His prophets over time. There is information only for a few—including Enoch, Moses, Samuel, Saul, David, Jeremiah, and Amos. So I arrayed these stories on an oral spreadsheet of sorts, with these headings at the top of the columns: How old was he? What was his reaction to the call from God to be His prophet? Did the prophet know much about God or His plan for mankind at the time of his call? What, if known, was his profession or his educational background? This arrayed a stunning pattern. All but one were young boys at the time they were called. Each was taken by total surprise, and some tried to convince God that He had asked the wrong man. Most were shepherds; they knew little about God or about what He had previously taught to earlier prophets. God then fundamentally changed them into powerful orators and leaders. I then said, “Look at the pattern. The assertion that God and angels appeared to a simple, uneducated boy in the 1820s and called him to be His prophet to the world is the single most credible event in the history of religion in the last eighteen centuries. God had access to the best in the world. Why would He choose a simple boy?” My friend answered, “I guess it is because he would ask a lot of questions.” What makes the LDS Church so different? Questions have been restored to the earth. As a church and as individuals we know much more about God’s plan for us than is available for those who have been told that the “libraries” above were emptied of answers and padlocked centuries ago. Our story is not just credible. It is true. I told my friend that in the third century after Christ’s death, the leaders of the early Christian Church essentially announced that God had given them all of the answers. And believing that they had received all the answers, there was no need to ask questions of God. When they stopped asking questions, revelation from heaven stopped. There was no need for prophets. These leaders essentially turned off the lights on the earth and plunged mankind into the dark ages. Reformers like Luther, Wesley, and Calvin started asking questions again. But their questions were largely targeted to each other, debating interpretations of the answers that had been given centuries ago. They created churches that were differentiated one from another by the way they interpreted the answers. These men did enormous good in making the Bible available to people in their own languages and in explaining what it meant. But they did not revisit the basic conclusion of their early leaders—that all of the answers had been given to mankind. I then told my friend that in 1820 in upstate New York, a fourteen-year-old boy, Joseph Smith, prayed to God, asking a simple question: Which, of all these churches, should he join? God and His Son Jesus Christ actually came down from heaven to personally give him the answer—that he should join none of them, because they were wrong. A simple boy asked a simple question and got a simple answer. And then they left. For three more years, Joseph received no more answers from God because he essentially didn’t ask any more questions. Then in 1823, at age seventeen, Joseph again prayed with a question—which in today’s language essentially was this: “I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch, but it’s not clear whether the ball is in my court or yours. Is there something you want me to do?” Immediately, an angel, Moroni, appeared and began answering Joseph’s question about what God wanted him to do—and why. Interestingly, however, the librarians in the heavenly libraries didn’t announce over the loudspeaker system, “We’ve finally got our man down there. Let’s empty the libraries and give that guy everything we’ve got!” Instead, over the next twenty years, Joseph Smith repeatedly asked questions of God about things he didn’t understand. And God answered those questions step by step, clarifying questions about some of the answers that already been revealed and giving him additional truth. And to keep it all in perspective, God assured Joseph that He didn’t plan to give him all the answers at that point—that there were many great and important things pertaining to the kingdom of God that He would give to them in the future—provided, of course, that they keep asking questions. I explained to my new friend that while we refer to the work of Luther, Wesley, Calvin, and others as the Reformation, we call the story of Joseph Smith the beginning of the Restoration of the original church that Jesus established. In essence, it restored questions to the earth, which then elicited answers that man had previously not known. Because of this, we have learned much more about God’s plan for us than is known among those who decided eighteen centuries ago that there were no more answers, no more questions. The salient difference between other churches and the LDS Church isn’t a difference of orthodoxy versus unorthodoxy. Rather, it is the difference in the depth and breadth of understanding of God’s plan for us. And this comes from the quality of the questions that are being asked. Oddly, the reason why some people frame Mormonism as “strange” is that we are in fact unique! We don’t believe that God has ever given mankind all of the answers—and so we continue to ask. “Got it,” my friend noted. “But doesn’t it bother you that it is predicated on a fourteen-year-old boy speaking with God and angels? To me, it is just an incredible story—as in not a credible story.” “Think about it this way,” I responded. “Imagine that you were in heaven, wanting to give truth and insight and answers to mankind. Would you choose a spokesman for you on earth who truly believes that heaven already has given everything that is to be given? Or might you prefer instead someone whose mind is filled with questions, someone who is eager to get answers? Would you prefer someone who has advanced degrees from a divinity school, or a boy?” I then summarized the background information about people whom God had called to become His prophets over time. There is information only for a few—including Enoch, Moses, Samuel, Saul, David, Jeremiah, and Amos. So I arrayed these stories on an oral spreadsheet of sorts, with these headings at the top of the columns: How old was he? What was his reaction to the call from God to be His prophet? Did the prophet know much about God or His plan for mankind at the time of his call? What, if known, was his profession or his educational background? This arrayed a stunning pattern. All but one were young boys at the time they were called. Each was taken by total surprise, and some tried to convince God that He had asked the wrong man. Most were shepherds; they knew little about God or about what He had previously taught to earlier prophets. God then fundamentally changed them into powerful orators and leaders. I then said, “Look at the pattern. The assertion that God and angels appeared to a simple, uneducated boy in the 1820s and called him to be His prophet to the world is the single most credible event in the history of religion in the last eighteen centuries. God had access to the best in the world. Why would He choose a simple boy?” My friend answered, “I guess it is because he would ask a lot of questions.” What makes the LDS Church so different? Questions have been restored to the earth. As a church and as individuals we know much more about God’s plan for us than is available for those who have been told that the “libraries” above were emptied of answers and padlocked centuries ago. Our story is not just credible. It is true.
Posted on: Thu, 14 Nov 2013 15:39:20 +0000