The setting is BYU and like all my favorite stories, the main character is me, Holly Braun. A nice boy named Bryan was still on his mission in Africa and I hadn’t decided yet to be a teacher. I hadn’t yet gone on a service mission with the Nauvoo Brass Band and I definitely hadn’t given birth yet to five fuzzy babies. I had, however, been called into the Relief Society presidency and the weight of the calling was settling on my inexperienced shoulders. So was the doom of work and homework and adulting all by myself. I sat alone after Sacrament meeting. I had initiated my panic sequence but before I could get too far I felt this knowledge settle on me and I felt my mind and soul expand. “Jesus is the Christ.” I was told in thought-language that Jesus is the Christ.

It’s been 17 years and I can’t find another scientific explanation for that expansive feeling of revelation. Nephi tells me what to do next in 2 Nephi 31:20.

Wherefore, ye must press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope.

We have many things to hope for in Christ, like the promise that we have access to his peace, or we will always have someone who understands, or that weak things will become strong, or that our adversity will be a small moment, or that his words will tell us everything we should do, or that those who are lost will be found, or that we have an advocate with the Father,

But today the hope I want to talk about is that Christ can metabolize evil. Metabolize is a science word, it is the chemical process of getting energy from food. Neal A Maxwell, speaking to the BYU Management Society in 1987 applied it to Jesus. “Jesus, in His infinite capacity, absorbed and metabolized all the evil of the world, returning instead only love and forgiveness.” He takes in the bad and gives back good. Perhaps this process works through empathy. When he felt what it was like to be us, he had empathy for our situations and could offer grace. Heidi didn’t want me to say this, but I think this is why Jesus said that his bowels were filled with compassion. He has taken in our sufferings, suffered himself, and now has compassion.

For us, this means mistakes are how we learn. Without that grace, mistakes are why we are excluded from God’s presence.

Jesus can work with those whose sins are scarlet. We have hope that Jesus can turn all these awful things into our good. I believe in Jesus’ infinite capacity to metabolize evil.

Here’s another story, again with me, but this time I don’t think I’m the main character. It’s possible I wasn’t the main character in the BYU story either. I was helping in the temple, handing out towels after the youth came out of the baptismal font. After a while I notice I’m standing in a puddle. Why am I standing in a puddle? A drain is right there. I show the temple worker who summons Maintenance. Who come in their white suits! A worker lifts up the drain and fishes out this massive hairball. It was truly impressive. He took it away and the puddle was gone.

Have you ever found a metaphorical hairball in a church drain? Made not of hair but of history? Have you ever stood in a puddle? Did it make you or others uncomfortable or even hurt them when they slipped? What does Jesus do with these hairballs? Just like the maintenance worker in a white suit, He acknowledges it for what it is. But he doesn’t shout at the girls for having long hair and causing the problem. He doesn’t kick me out for pointing out the puddle. He doesn’t slap the hairball in the face of the people coming in the temple to warn them there might be hairballs here. He untangled the hairball from the still-functional part of the drain. He kept the good and threw out the bad.

I have hope that Jesus does this with our hairballs, and the hairballs we find. He fixes what is good and takes away the bad nasty stuff himself.

2 Nephi 25:23 says, “be reconciled to God, for we know that it is by grace that we are saved after all we can do.“ Recently this reference read differently to me. I used to understand that Jesus could save us only after all our efforts and that there was some cosmic number of good things we needed to do, some quantity of oil in our lamps, that would constitute “all we can do.” But you don’t know what it is, and if you don’t do all those things you can do you’re going to be locked out of heaven.

But recently it jumped off the page differently. Consider this reading: It is by grace we are saved, Even after every mean, nasty, hurtful, self-centered, self-destructive thing we could do, it is by grace that we are saved.

Here’s the verse in full: For we labor diligently to write, to persuade our children, and also our brethren, to believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God; for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do.

Jesus gave the parable of the prodigal son, which follows the logic of my new reading. “A certain man had two sons: 12 And the younger of them said to his father, Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto them his living. 13 And not many days after the younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living.

(Prodigal means wasteful, like our word prodigious)

14 And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land; and he began to be in want. 15 And he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country; and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. 16 And he would fain have filled his belly with the husks that the swine did eat: and no man gave unto him. 17 And when he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father’s have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger! 18 I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, 19 And am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants. 20 And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him. 21 And the son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son. 22 But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; 24 For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.

Regardless of what the younger son did, the grace of the father saved him. The son didn’t stay away trying to earn back the money he spent. He just went home.

This love is available to us, at all times. I want to ask the question that Alma asks in Zarahemla: “Can ye feel so now?” If we are not letting ourselves feel that acceptance, to sort of motivate ourselves to earn it, we are like the elder brother in the parable of the prodigal son. The other wasteful son. The actually wasteful son. He was with the Father all those years- and he never enjoyed it. “Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment: and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends. But as soon as this thy son was come, which hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf.

Another way to phrase this would be, “I’ve stayed with you all these years, slaving away, and you never threw me a feast like this. I was the good son but you’re rewarding him more.”

And he said unto him, Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine.

The father said something like, “is that all this has been to you? Slavery?”

I have always really identified with the elder prodigal son. When I read that I am saved by grace after all I could do, it seemed so unfair when other people would “get to sin” and then just be forgiven for free. What was Jesus trying to teach with this parable? Is it possible I was reading that Book of Mormon scripture incorrectly? That I was reading it like the elder prodigal son? I said in my heart, Neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment! Which actually can’t be true.

I think I have been just as lost and wasteful as the younger son. I was theoretically with the Father all my life, but I wasn’t experiencing all the gifts of the father that he gave to the younger son. I wasn’t feeling that love and acceptance, I was trying to pay for it. And it wasn’t coming.

Will knowing that forgiveness is free, make me sin more readily? I don’t think so. After having been shown so much love, I don’t think I’m going to turn around and start being hateful. But being in that scarcity mindset of the elder brother might make me so.

Commandments are still commandments, but they aren’t for belonging.

Let’s explore that idea of the oil in the lamp. Ten bridesmaids were waiting for the groom to come bring them to the wedding feast. He was late, they fell asleep. When he did come, 5 lamps were empty. Those women asked to borrow some oil from the other women but they said no. The traditional idea is that oil represents spiritual preparedness and the wise bridesmaids said no because spiritual preparedness can’t be shared. Many have been motivated by this story to read their scriptures or do their home teaching so it was probably a net gain. We read recently in the Doctrine and Covenants 19 where Jesus explains how the phrase “eternal damnation” didn’t actually mean damnation for eternity, but since it motivated people to do good stuff it was all good.

But this parable has always bothered me because Matthew 5: 42 says, Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away. And Matthew 23:13 says But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye shut up the kingdom of heaven against men:

It caused a bit of cognitive dissonance in me because the bridegroom who represented Jesus did the same things he called others hypocrites for doing.

So I will put forth another interpretation that lessens the cognitive dissonance for me. I don’t want to take away any of the good lessons we’ve learned from the other interpretation. Parables can mean lots of things at different times, depending on the learner’s needs.

The King James version reads in Matthew 25 11: Afterward came also the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us. 12 But he answered and said, Verily I say unto you, I know you not. And this doesn’t make sense because D&C 6:16 – “Yea, I tell thee, that thou mayest know that there is none else save God that knoweth thy thoughts and the intents of thy heart.” Joseph Smith retranslated the King James version and he said this passage should read a little differently. He said it should read, “Ye know me not.” The bridesmaids were kept from the feast because they didn’t know the bridegroom. They didn’t know Jesus. They thought they couldn’t approach Jesus with their lack, so they left him to go try to get it by themselves. In a second I’ll read the King James text but I want to say that I looked up the Greek version of the word “wise” in that verse, and the secondary definition is “prudent, ie mindful of one’s interests”. Which to me, is less of being wiser and more of being a miser. The same Greek word is used in Romans 11:25, which speaks of being “wise in their own conceits, that blindness in part is happened to Israel.”

1 Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom. 2 And five of them were wise, and five were foolish. 3 They that were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them: 4 But the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. 5 While the bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept. 6 And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him. 7 Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. 8 And the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil; for our lamps are gone out. 9 But the wise answered, saying, Not so; lest there be not enough for us and you: but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves. 10 And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came; and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage: and the door was shut. 11 Afterward came also the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us. 12 But he answered and said, Verily I say unto you, ye know me not 13 Watch therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh.

I find it weird that the women wouldn’t share their oil. They just had to walk down the street to the feast; they didn’t need that much. And if they couldn’t share their oil, why couldn’t they share their light? The text doesn’t say, “they that had lamps burning went in with him to the feast.” It says “they that were ready went in to the feast.”

And Jesus gives that last directive: “Watch therefore.” Couldn’t that mean, wait near my path and watch for me?

The bridegroom didn’t say “You’re too late, you should have been prepared. If you had been prepared, you would have been punctual.” Perhaps he could have said, “Why did you think I would turn you away? Why did you think that buying stuff would help? Just stand near someone whose lamp is lit and wait for me. Don’t leave me thinking you’re not enough.”

I have hope in Christ that we can approach him with lack. We can approach him even though we fall short of what other people think we should have.

I have hope that he understands what it’s like to be me and why I sin in my particular ways. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I want to help others and be with Christ and my loved ones and I have hope that he wants to be with me so much that he suffered all that was necessary to make that happen. I have hope that Christ won’t turn anyone away who wants to be with him and help others.

I have hope that I am not a stranger nor a guest but a child at home. A child at home inherently matters. They don’t matter because of what they can do, they just matter. I remember when I gave birth to my first slimy baby. I didn’t love her for all she was good at, I just loved her because she was my child. I learned that God can love us simply because we are his children, not because of what we can do.

I have hope that we will learn the mysteries of God and that rolling waters will one day be pure and that hurting will stop and God will wipe away all tears.