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Experiencing Christ

by Autumn Dickson

I want to highlight the timeline of events in chapter 17.

Jesus has just spent a ton of time with these people. He has come to them in glory, not as the mighty but humble mortal who lived in Jerusalem. He has taught them and blessed them, and He recognizes that their capacity to receive more is already bursting at the seams. Receiving spiritual knowledge and spiritual things extends far beyond sitting in front of the risen Christ. It requires a built up tolerance for spiritual things. It requires a strength we can’t observe, an endurance that can’t be measured in mortality, and these people had maxed out. The Lord invites them to go home and pray and ponder.

The people didn’t ask Him to stay, but they wanted Him to. He felt this, and He decided to put aside His to-do list for a short time and show compassion. He healed many of them. They worshiped Him. He blessed their children.

Then something rather interesting happens.

Christ commands everyone to kneel, and He joins them. I want to share three verses.

3 Nephi 17:14 And it came to pass that when they had knelt upon the ground, Jesus groaned within himself, and said: Father, I am troubled because of the wickedness of the people of the house of Israel.

Christ is troubled by the wickedness He views on earth. He begins an incredible prayer that couldn’t be written.

3 Nephi 17:18 And it came to pass that when Jesus had made an end of praying unto the Father, he arose; but so great was the joy of the multitude that they were overcome.

The people were overwhelmingly happy after hearing Him pray.

3 Nephi 17:20 And they arose from the earth, and he said unto them: Blessed are ye because of your faith. And now behold, my joy is full.

There are characteristics of Christ that we can pull from this happening. There are principles we can learn from Christ and how He felt during what was occurring around Him.

Where His feelings came from

Before we delve into His specific feelings, I want you to reflect on your own life. During this reflection, I’m trying to conjure up memories of when you were overwhelmed at all the problems in humanity. There might have been a myriad of things that evoked these emotions, but it’s the memory of the emotions I want to bring about.

Perhaps you read a horrible news article. Perhaps you heard some incredibly startling and troubling statistics. Perhaps you observed patterns of poverty or abuse. Maybe it was a documentary or a dramatization of true events. There are a million different events across the world that can evoke these emotions. Personally, I get these emotions whenever I think about the mothers and kids who are affected by wars. Those are always the stories that get me.

And then I want you to try and conjure up feelings of when you were surrounded by people you loved and people who loved you back. Maybe it was family; maybe it was a group of really good friends. Maybe it was a parent, a sibling, or a single friend.

For this particular “feeling” memory, I recall quite a few different times. I remember how it felt as a kid when all of my seven siblings would come home to visit for holidays. I remember a specific group date with two other couples where we literally laughed so hard we were crying.

By recalling these memories of times when we have felt certain things, we can find ourselves relating to Christ. I think it’s important to be able to relate to Him. If we ever want to have a personal relationship with Him, relatability is crucial to that connection.

I believe that sometimes we create Christ as this “other.” Obviously, there are things about Christ that we can’t comprehend yet. There are aspects of Him that we worship even though we can’t process exactly what it means. This is good. It’s important to recognize these things.

But I still hold to the idea that it’s important to humanize Him in order to connect with Him.

Christ was looking at these people around Him. He was experiencing really beautiful things, and He was surrounded by children who loved Him and He was able to bless them. Somewhere in the midst of that experience, His mind caught hold of unpleasant circumstances that were happening around the world. Maybe as He looked at the faces of the children, He remembered other children who weren’t finding themselves in such beautiful circumstances. It affected Him, just as it affects us.

And then soon afterwards, He was brought back into the present moment as He looked at all the people around Him. He loved them, and He felt their love returned. It made Him happy.

I’m not trying to bring Christ “down” to our level where we can understand Him better. Rather, I’m trying to highlight the very real pieces of Him within us.

The entire spectrum of feelings we experience in mortality are divine. From the heartbreak and compassion we experience over tragedy to the deep joy and contentment we experience amongst someone who accepts and loves us, all of these feelings are Christlike. They are all essential parts of eternal life. These feelings are part of what makes us like Christ. Those emotions we describe as so very human are actually like God.

Living forever would be empty with the full spectrum of experience and feeling. We came to mortality to feel all of these things so that we could better understand God because until you’ve felt it, you simply can’t understand.

It was the people

The other principle I want to draw from observing Christ’s feelings is the fact that His joy was made full from simply being around these people.

I remember thinking about what it meant to worship Christ when I was younger. I used to try and determine what it meant to worship Him in very black and white terms. I wanted to know what specific acts of worship there were. It’s interesting because I think I used to imagine experiences based off of what I knew from idols. It was about abasing yourself and putting God up on the pedestal. That’s what I believed of worship.

I have now come to believe that the central aspect of worship is connection with God. The acts are less significant; it is about the feeling. There are acts of worship that more readily evoke this connection that is essential to worship, but the act itself isn’t necessarily relevant.

The moments I have held God in the highest esteem have been the moments that I have felt close to Him, not the moments where I separated myself from Him because of my unworthiness. Even now, as I picture King Benjamin’s sermon about us being less than the dust of the earth, I don’t picture a scowling king telling his people to bow down and pray to a Being that towered over them and loved to rule over them. Surely King Benjamin was right when he said we were less than the dust of the earth, but this knowledge doesn’t have to mean any level of hatred towards ourselves. I know that’s how King Benjamin felt because I’ve felt it. I know what it means to have my eyes opened to how the Lord has been patient with me and to have that accompanying feeling of, “Thank you. I can’t believe You did that for me.” If we do it right, the knowledge of our nothingness should be accompanied by a deep reverence and gratitude and connection with the Lord for loving us anyway.

Which brings me back to this account of the Lord being filled with joy as He was surrounded by people who believed in Him, utilized His gifts, and loved Him. Perhaps other apostate gods that we read about in literature desire different kinds of worship. They want to be admired and placed up higher than everyone else. However, the true God, the God that we worship just wants to be close to us. If we want to worship Him, we have to draw near to Him. If we truly want to please Him, we need to allow Him to stand near us through everything. He won’t force Himself on us, but we have to learn that He wants to be with us. That’s what pleases Him. That’s what fills Him with joy. That’s what makes His sacrifice worth it. He just wants to be near us, love us, and feel our love in return.

We feel a desire for unity. We desire acceptance. We desire to sustain and support those we love. We desire closeness and understanding. These are not weak, human emotions. They are Godlike emotions. This is what Christ desires; He doesn’t need it, but He sure wants it.

I’m grateful for a Savior who loves me. I’m grateful that I was sent here to mortality so that my eyes could be opened to this human and divine spectrum of emotions. I’m grateful He created the earth so that I had a place to come down and feel what He feels. I’m grateful that He has opened my eyes and helped me to understand that so many of the feelings I experience here are reflections of His life. I’m grateful that He has helped me see that there is so much of Him within me.

 

 

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.