Jesus Christ as the Good Shepherd leading His sheep from a dark valley toward the light of the temple, illustrating Psalm 23 and the plan of salvation.

“The Lord Is My Shepherd”: Psalm 23, Temple Descent-Ascent, and the Plan of Salvation

August 16, 2026August 25, 2026 Timothy R. BermanLeave a comment

A Come, Follow Me Study for August 17-23, 2026: Psalms 1-2; 8; 19-33; 40; 46

“For thou art with me.” – Psalm 23:4

Most of us first learned Psalm 23 as a psalm of comfort. We hear it at funerals, repeat it in hospital rooms, and reach for it when grief has stripped life down to its most difficult questions. That use is neither accidental nor misplaced. Yet Psalm 23 does more than assure us that God will remain near when we die. It poetically traces an entire journey: the Lord provides, restores, guides, accompanies, protects, welcomes, anoints, and finally brings the worshipper into His house.

That movement makes Psalm 23 especially meaningful for Latter-day Saints. Its imagery can be read as a temple-shaped journey from ordered life into mortal darkness and then upward into covenant fellowship and the presence of God. Read within the immediate sequence of Psalms 22-24, the pattern becomes even more striking: lament and suffering in Psalm 22, the Shepherd’s presence in Psalm 23, and ascent to the holy hill with the King of glory in Psalm 24. Nancy deClaissé-Walford’s intertextual study similarly argues that these three neighboring psalms form a powerful statement of trust when read together (deClaissé-Walford 139-52).

This interpretation requires one careful qualification. Psalm 23 is not demonstrably a word-for-word transcript of an ancient Israelite temple ceremony, and the full Latter-day Saint plan of salvation should not be projected backward into every Hebrew phrase as though the psalmist were writing a systematic doctrinal manual. Psalm 23 is commonly classified as a psalm of trust or confidence, while a pilgrimage setting that culminates at the temple remains a respected scholarly proposal rather than an uncontested conclusion (Smith 61-66; Tappy 255-80). The temple and plan-of-salvation reading offered here is therefore a disciplined canonical and theological synthesis: it begins with what the Hebrew poem says, follows the intertextual patterns the Psalter supplies, reads the psalm through Jesus Christ, and then asks how Restoration scripture enlarges its hope.

What Come, Follow Me Actually Assigns for August 17-23

The official 2026 reading is often abbreviated as “Psalms 1-46,” but the assigned passages are selections rather than every chapter in that range: Psalms 1-2; 8; 19-33; 40; and 46. The manual invites readers to notice the Psalms’ vivid images of the Savior, including the green pastures, still waters, rod, staff, and overflowing cup of Psalm 23. It then connects Psalm 24’s “hill of the Lord” with the temple and with preparation to enter the presence of God (Come, Follow Me).

The broader three-week schedule is also selective. August 24-30 covers Psalms 49-51; 61-66; 69-72; 77-78; and 85-86, while August 31-September 6 covers Psalms 102-103; 110; 116-119; 127-128; 135-139; and 146-150. Keeping the actual readings clear strengthens the study because it allows Psalm 23 to function as the focal text for this week without forcing an artificial structure onto every psalm from 1 through 46.

“Yet Will I Trust in Him”: Job, the Redeemer, and the Temple Pattern of Descent and Ascent

August 9, 2026August 25, 2026 Timothy R. BermanLeave a comment

How suffering, covenant faithfulness, divine perspective, and restoration reveal the plan of salvation

What do we do when life falls apart—not because we have walked away from God, but while we are doing our best to remain faithful to Him? What do we say when prayer does not immediately change the diagnosis, restore the relationship, return what was lost, or explain why a righteous person has been permitted to suffer? Those questions are not signs of spiritual failure. They are among the deepest questions of mortality, and the book of Job refuses to answer them with a slogan.

Job is not a story about a man who never struggled. He grieved, protested, questioned, and pleaded for God to answer him. He described himself as stripped of glory, surrounded by darkness, abandoned by loved ones, and unable to find the God he still longed to meet. Yet his anguish never became indifference. Job kept turning toward God, even when he could not understand God. His questions and his faith occupied the same ash heap.

That is the spiritual tension at the heart of the 2026 Come, Follow Me lesson on Job. The manual emphasizes that faith in Job is questioned and tested without being completely abandoned. Not every question receives an explanation, but questions can coexist with faith. Job therefore becomes more than a case study in the problem of evil. He becomes a witness of what covenant trust looks like when familiar answers no longer seem adequate.

Read as a whole, Job is a temple-shaped wisdom drama of descent, covenant testing, divine encounter, intercession, and restoration. Its movement carries Job from abundance into ashes, from ashes into argument, from argument toward a living Redeemer, and from limited mortal understanding into the presence of God. The book does not merely ask, “Why do righteous people suffer?” It presses us toward a more searching question: How does a covenant disciple remain faithful until God reveals a larger perspective through the living Redeemer?

How Should We Read the Book of Job?

The first step in responsible expository teaching is to respect the kind of literature we are reading. Job begins with a prose prologue in chapters 1–2, moves into an extended poetic body in chapters 3–41, and returns to prose in the concluding portion of chapter 42. Within the poetic core are Job’s lament, three cycles of debate with Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar, Job’s extended defense, the speeches of Elihu, and the Lord’s response from the whirlwind. This carefully arranged structure is one reason Job should not be read as if it were a modern courtroom transcript.

The Religious Studies Center essay “Hast Thou Considered My Servant Job?” acknowledges both the possible historical foundation of Job and the book’s evident literary shaping. Modern scholarship commonly classifies Job as wisdom literature, but that label does not exhaust the book. Will Kynes notes that Job can also be read through the lenses of lament, drama, controversy dialogue, lawsuit, exemplary sufferer narrative, epic, prophecy, and apocalyptic literature. Carol A. Newsom describes the book as a contest of moral imaginations because Job and his interlocutors do not simply exchange information; they present competing visions of God, justice, suffering, and human righteousness.

This literary awareness also helps us understand the heavenly scene in Job 1–2. The Come, Follow Me manual explains that these chapters poetically emphasize Satan’s role as adversary or accuser and should not be treated as a literal transcript of a conversation between God and Satan. The scene reveals the theological issue driving the drama: Is Job’s devotion genuine, or is it merely the price he pays for prosperity and protection? The question is not only whether Job will survive suffering. The question is whether worship can remain worship when the expected rewards disappear.

Catherine Petrany sharpens this literary observation by attending to the Hebrew expression ha-satan, “the adversary” or “the accuser.” The definite article makes the expression function like a title rather than a personal name. Within Job’s ancient heavenly-court scene, this figure roams, investigates, and prosecutes a case; he is not yet portrayed with every feature that later Jewish and Christian texts associate with the Devil. That historical distinction explains the role this character plays in Job without requiring Latter-day Saint readers to discard restored teachings about Satan’s premortal rebellion. The disciplined approach is to let Job’s prologue define the accuser’s narrative function, then let the wider canon supply additional doctrine without forcing all later details back into two poetic chapters.

To call Job a wisdom drama, or even to recognize mythic and liturgical dimensions in it, is not to call it false. In biblical studies, mythic can describe a narrative’s use of cosmic imagery, creation symbolism, heavenly councils, chaos creatures, and archetypal conflict. Liturgical can describe patterns of mourning, petition, divine encounter, sacrifice, and restored communion. Those categories help us see how Job’s personal anguish is placed within a cosmic frame without requiring us to deny that the story may preserve the memory of a real righteous sufferer.

From the Ash Heap to the Holy Mountain: Hebrew Poetry and Wisdom Literature through the Temple Pattern of Descent and Ascent

August 8, 2026August 25, 2026 Timothy R. BermanLeave a comment

A Come, Follow Me introduction to Job, Psalms, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes

Job, Psalms, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes do not offer one flat explanation of faithful life. They give us an inspired conversation. Job protests any theology that reduces suffering to a predictable equation. The Psalms teach covenant Israel to pray through joy, guilt, abandonment, fear, gratitude, and praise. Proverbs forms moral perception by training the disciple to fear the Lord and choose wisdom over folly. Ecclesiastes exposes the vapor-like instability of mortal achievement and the limits of human control. Read together, these books move repeatedly from order into disorientation and from disorientation toward a renewed, humbler communion with God.

This study proposes the temple pattern of descent and ascent as a theological and devotional framework for that movement. Descent names mortality, estrangement, lament, disorder, and the collapse of false certainty. Ascent names purification, covenant formation, divine instruction, unveiled perspective, and renewed presence. The framework is grounded most directly in the temple setting of many Psalms—especially Psalm 24—but it should not be mistaken for a claim that Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes were all composed as a single temple ritual. Instead, it is a canonical, Christ-centered reading that brings the wisdom books into conversation with Israel’s worship, the plan of salvation, and the Latter-day Saint journey back into God’s presence. The W.I.S.D.O.M. arc developed below provides the series structure: Walk, Invite, Seek, Discern, Observe, and Meet.

Esther and the Pattern of Covenant Deliverance

August 2, 2026August 2, 2026 Timothy R. Berman2 Comments

Preserving God’s Covenant People Through Hidden Providence

By Jessica Shipp (@ChristPearls), with companion devotional and editorial contributions by Timothy R. Berman

Editor’s Note: Jessica Shipp contributed the primary article, biblical character study, and chapter-by-chapter summary. Timothy R. Berman contributed the E.S.T.H.E.R. acrostic, devotional applications, additional reflections, and editorial presentation for Faith & Reason.

About Jessica Shipp

Jessica Shipp is the founder and creator of Christ Pearls, a Latter-day Saint gospel study ministry grounded in the conviction that spiritual beauty is often formed through pressure, pain, difficult questions, and refining discipleship. Through her guiding message, “From Pressure to Pearl, Through Christ,” Jessica provides study-based gospel insights, doctrine-rich explanations, and inspired reflections for disciples seeking greater depth in the gospel of Jesus Christ. Her work particularly explores the doctrines and scriptural questions that challenge, stretch, and prepare believers for faithful discipleship and the Second Coming of Jesus Christ. Follow her ministry on YouTube and social media at @ChristPearls.

The Book of Esther occupies a unique place in Scripture. Unlike every other biblical book, God’s name never appears explicitly in its pages. Yet His presence is everywhere. Rather than revealing Himself through miracles or prophetic declarations, the Lord works quietly through ordinary people, ordinary decisions, and seemingly ordinary events. The story invites us to look beyond coincidence and recognize the unseen hand of providence guiding history according to His covenant purposes.

The historical setting is equally significant. More than a century after the Babylonian exile, many Jews had returned to Jerusalem under Zerubbabel, Ezra, and Nehemiah, but countless others remained scattered throughout the Persian Empire. Living among the nations, they preserved their covenant identity while existing within a foreign culture. At precisely this moment, Haman obtains a royal decree ordering the destruction of every Jew in the empire:

“To destroy, to kill, and to cause to perish, all Jews, both young and old, little children and women, in one day…” (Esther 3:13)

This is far more than a political crisis. The covenant people themselves stand under a sentence of death. Once again, God’s promises appear to hang by a thread. Yet this pattern is familiar throughout Scripture. Pharaoh sought to destroy Israel’s sons. Athaliah attempted to eradicate the royal seed of David. Herod sought the life of the infant Messiah. Time and again, when God’s covenant purposes seem threatened, He raises faithful men and women whose courage preserves His people until His greater purposes unfold. Esther belongs to that pattern.

What the Divinity of Jesus Christ Means to You

June 21, 2026 Timothy R. BermanLeave a comment

Why Jesus Alone Could Accomplish the Infinite and Eternal Atonement

What manner of man commands the wind and sea—and they obey Him? He who speaks to the chaotic elements and they submit to His will, revealing His divine authority over nature itself. His voice echoes through the storm, bringing peace where there was turmoil, demonstrating an unparalleled mastery that transcends human understanding.

What manner of man possesses the power to lay down His life and take it up again? He who, with the authority inherent to His being, presents the ultimate sacrifice, fully aware of the weight of such a decision. In laying down His life, He unveils the profound mystery of love and redemption. The same strength that allows Him to give Himself away also empowers Him to conquer death, rising triumphantly to provide hope and eternal life to humanity.

What manner of man suffers more than mortal humanity can endure, yet remains until the work of redemption is complete? He bears the weight of all humanity’s sins, feeling the depths of anguish and despair, yet persevering through the agony to fulfill His purpose. His empathy is boundless, experiencing sorrow in ways that only a divine nature could comprehend. In His endurance, He illustrates the profound depth of grace, revealing that true strength is often displayed in vulnerability and unwavering commitment to a higher calling, despite the unbearable cost.

This man is a testament to the coexistence of power and humility, a divine figure whose actions reshape the narrative of humanity’s relationship with the Creator. His life and legacy stand as an eternal beacon of hope, a call to embrace the extraordinary potential within each of us to rise above our circumstances and to foster love, compassion, and redemption in a world so often in need of these gifts.

These questions stand at the center of Doctrine Lesson 6, “What the Divinity of Jesus Christ Means to You,” from the 1974–75 Melchizedek Priesthood study guide When Thou Art Converted, Strengthen Thy Brethren. The lesson’s purpose was not merely to establish that Jesus was extraordinary. It invited priesthood holders to understand why Jesus Christ alone possessed power to accomplish the infinite and eternal Atonement—and why every one of us remains completely dependent upon Him.

Nearly five decades later, that central purpose remains unchanged. Some of the language used in the original lesson, however, has generated theological questions and apologetic controversy. In particular, statements by James E. Talmage and Bruce R. McConkie about Christ’s literal divine sonship have been interpreted by critics as teaching that God the Father physically descended and engaged in sexual intercourse with Mary.

A responsible modern treatment must do more than dismiss that criticism. It must distinguish among what scripture reveals, what individual Church leaders have proposed or speculated, and what the Church currently teaches as established doctrine.

It is best we do not allow controversy over the manner of Christ’s conception to distract us from the greater truth: Jesus Christ did for us what we could never do for ourselves.

Hear Thou in Heaven Their Prayer: Returning to God with All Your Heart

June 21, 2026June 21, 2026 Timothy R. BermanLeave a comment

There are moments when the distance between faithfulness and failure feels almost impossibly small.

A glance lingers. A private desire is entertained. A warning is dismissed. One compromise makes the next compromise easier, and before long, a person who once walked closely with God finds himself standing in the wreckage of choices he never imagined he would make.

That is part of the tragedy of David’s story.

Yet this week’s Come Follow Me 2026 Old Testament study does not leave us standing on the rooftop with David, trapped in the moment when temptation first entered his heart. It carries us into Nathan’s courageous confrontation, through David’s anguish and the painful consequences of sin, and onward into Solomon’s prayer for wisdom and his dedication of the house of the Lord.

At the center of these chapters is a plea filled with covenant hope:

“If they shall bethink themselves in the land whither they were carried captives, and repent, and make supplication unto thee … saying, We have sinned, and have done perversely, we have committed wickedness; And so return unto thee with all their heart, and with all their soul … then hear thou their prayer and their supplication in heaven thy dwelling place, and maintain their cause.” —1 Kings 8:47–49, KJV

This is not a lesson about flawless kings or effortless discipleship. David fell. Solomon began with wisdom and ended with a divided heart. Both stories warn us that yesterday’s spiritual strength cannot substitute for today’s surrender.

But these chapters also testify that God has provided a covenant path of return. He hears the prayer of the humble. He grants wisdom to those who sincerely seek it. He establishes His name in His holy house. Through Jesus Christ, He invites wounded, wandering, and repentant people to come home.

The question is not merely whether David or Solomon remained faithful. The question is whether our hearts are fully turned toward the Lord today.

The Battle Is the Lord’s: Facing Your Goliath with Faith in Jesus Christ

June 14, 2026 Timothy R. BermanLeave a comment

Come Follow Me | June 15-21 | “The battle is the Lord’s.” —1 Samuel 17:47

There are seasons in life when the challenge standing before us seems larger than our faith, stronger than our resolve, and better equipped than anything we possess. We may know the language of faith, remember the promises of scripture, and sincerely believe that God is with us, yet the giant still appears to dominate the valley. It calls attention to our weakness, rehearses our failures, magnifies our fears, and confidently predicts our defeat.

For one person, that giant may be addiction or the relentless temptation to return to an old way of living. For another, it may be grief, rejection, loneliness, financial uncertainty, family conflict, shame, resentment, or the lingering consequences of decisions that cannot be undone. Some giants appear suddenly, while others have occupied the valley for years, issuing the same challenge every morning and evening until fear begins to feel like the natural condition of life.

The Come, Follow Me lesson for June 15–21, covering 1 Samuel 17–18; 24–26 and 2 Samuel 5–7, invites us to look again at David’s story and hear his declaration that “the battle is the Lord’s.” That declaration does not mean our participation is unnecessary, nor does it promise that discipleship will protect us from every difficulty. David still walked into the valley, selected the stones, prepared his sling, and confronted the enemy. What he refused to do was accept the assumption that the outcome depended entirely upon his own size, strength, resources, or experience.

David understood that he was participating in a battle whose final authority belonged to God.

That same truth can transform the way we approach our spiritual battles today. We do not have to pretend that our giants are small. We do not have to deny the pain, complexity, or danger of what stands before us. Faith does not require us to minimize reality; it teaches us to see reality within the greater reality of God’s power, covenant faithfulness, and redemptive purposes.

The Divine Architecture of Gender: An LDS Analysis of the “Godhead Creation Dilemma” and Biblical Exegesis

May 16, 2026May 16, 2026 Timothy R. BermanLeave a comment

In his podcast (Episode 87), “The LDS Godhead Creation Dilemma,” critic Bill Young attempts to force a theological checkmate onto Latter-day Saints. He argues that because a Heavenly Mother is not explicitly canonized in LDS standard works, the entire Latter-day Saint cosmology and understanding of the Godhead collapses. His argument is rhetorically forceful, emotionally charged, and heavily dependent on satire and selective framing.

However, the central irony of his critique is profound: Bill repeatedly attacks Latter-day Saints for deriving doctrine through theological inference while simultaneously defending the mainstream doctrine of the Trinity. This defense is particularly troubling given that the Trinity is a doctrine that likewise emerges through synthesis, philosophical formulation, and post-biblical doctrinal development rather than from a singular, explicit biblical statement. This selective application of inference highlights a critical inconsistency in his argument and reveals a double standard that is structurally unsustainable.

To unpack why this critique fails historically, linguistically, and methodologically, we must move past an intuitive, “feels-right” approach to scripture and dive into the rigorous reality of biblical exegesis. Historical context plays a crucial role in understanding both Latter-day Saint doctrines and mainstream Christian beliefs. The development of the Trinity, for instance, did not occur in a vacuum; it was the result of centuries of theological discourse and debate among early church leaders.

In contrast, the concept of a Heavenly Mother may not be as explicitly outlined in LDS scripture, but the principle of a divine feminine presence is woven throughout the fabric of Latter-day Saint theology. By ignoring this contextual nuance and dismissing the significant theological development within Latter-day Saint thought, Bill’s critique falls flat.

Furthermore, linguistically, the words we choose to frame our understanding of God significantly influence how doctrines are perceived and articulated. In Latter-day Saint belief, the concept of a Mother in Heaven is not merely an optional addendum but a vital part of understanding the divine family structure. By failing to engage with this linguistic complexity, Bill oversimplifies a rich and profound belief system.

Methodologically, the task of drawing theological conclusions must be approached with care. Relying solely on explicit biblical texts can lead to an incomplete understanding of the intricate and often subtle ways that spiritual truths manifest. Both the Latter-day Saint perspective and the traditional Christian views on the Godhead are informed by interpretation, historical development, and communal understanding.

In concluding this analysis, it is essential to recognize that engaging with theological beliefs requires depth, patience, and a willingness to explore the intricacies that shape those beliefs. By fostering a spirit of inquiry and open dialogue, rather than reductive criticisms, we can appreciate the multifaceted nature of faith that transcends oversimplified arguments.

Healing Together — Join Today’s Livestream Devotional

May 12, 2026May 12, 2026 Timothy R. BermanLeave a comment

There are moments in our journey when God invites us to step out of isolation and into something deeper — something healing, something holy, something shared. Today’s livestream devotional, Healing Together: The S.A.I.N.T.S. Path to Spiritual Recovery, is one of those moments.

If you’ve been carrying burdens alone… If you’ve been trying to heal in silence… If you’ve been longing for connection, clarity, or renewal… This devotional is for you.

Today we’re walking through the S.A.I.N.T.S. framework — a powerful, Spirit‑led path that shows us how God heals us through community, not apart from it. We’ll explore what it means to be:

Sanctified Together
Anchored in Christ
Interdependent, Not Independent
Nourished by the Word
Transformed in Fellowship
Sent to Serve

This isn’t just another message. It’s an invitation into the divine workshop of the soul — where Christ refines us, restores us, and surrounds us with people who help us grow.

🕕 Live at 6 AM PST 📍 Streaming on YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, and X

Come join us. Bring your coffee, your Bible, your questions, your story — and your hope. You don’t have to heal alone. You were never meant to.

Step out of the shadows. Step into the communion of saints.

General Conference Reflection: Come Home – The Savior’s Call to the Weary

April 28, 2026April 29, 2026 Timothy R. BermanLeave a comment

There have been those moments in my own life when silence felt louder than any noise – when distance from God doesn’t come through rebellion, it comes through weariness, disappointments, or quiet drifting. In those moments – I never thought of them as sacred hidden places. However, Elder Clark G. Gilbert’s message, Come Home, reminded me of how Christ rescued me. Elder Gilbert’s testimony is both disarming and deeply personal: Jesus Christ is not waiting to condemn you – He is actively calling you back. This is not an invitation for us to return to any religious belief – it is a return to a covenantal relationship where Christ desires to bring us face-to-face with our Heavenly Father. Through this process, we find healing, restoration, peace, and the joy that surpasses all understanding. It is an invitation for those wandering and lost today.

And here is the profound truth Elder Gilbert centers his message: Christ is not only our Redeemer – but He is also our Repairer. This distinction is of immense importance. Many of us hold to the idea that Jesus forgives us – however, how many of us truly believe and experience the reality of His power to restore us? Through personal stories, doctrinal clarity, and prophetic and apostolic witness, this message unfolds the spiritual reality and truth – no fracture; spiritual, emotional, or relational, is beyond the Savior’s power to amend through the gift and tender mercies of the infinite atonement.

Elder Gilbert’s message acknowledges the real barriers that prevent people from returning. It is these barriers I have found myself referring back to regarding my own devotional teachings and messages. The very same barriers I’ve struggled with over the years in returning back to the faith of the Restored Gospel. Feelings of not belonging, feelings of inadequacy, doubt, or even feeling trapped within cultural or religious expectations often obscure an intimate relationship with Jesus Christ. Elder Gilbert does not dismiss these struggles; instead, he speaks directly into them with compassion and clarity. His approach is refreshing as it resonates with the hearts of many who grapple with these complex emotions.

For me, the ultimate truth of this message is not about people leaving the faith – it is about the reason they are able to return. And for me, the Gospel of Jesus Christ is not a place for perfect people – it is a home for those returning. This home isn’t just a metaphorical return; it’s a genuine invitation to embrace love, understanding, and acceptance in the arms of a Savior who knows our struggles intimately.

Consider what the Savior taught regarding this profound and yet simplistic principle and truth:

“As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax-collection station, and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he got up and followed him. And as he sat at dinner in the house, many tax collectors and sinners came and were sitting with Jesus and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” But when he heard this, he said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, I desire mercy, not sacrifice. For I have not come to call the righteous but sinners.” (Matthew 9:10-13, NRSVUE).

In this scene, Jesus is having a meal with Matthew, a former tax collector, and a mixed crowd of people whom the religious leaders dubbed as tax collectors and sinners. When the Pharisees, the self-appointed guardians of what’s pure and pious, ask why he would spend time with such unclean folks, Jesus turns the whole conversation on its head. He doesn’t see himself as a judge but as a healer. He highlights that his mission isn’t about reaffirming those who think they’re just fine—essentially the self-righteous—but about reaching out to those who are honest enough to see their own brokenness. By quoting the prophet Hosea—“I desire mercy, not sacrifice”—he underscores that compassion trumps strict religious rules or pushing people away.

In addition to this powerful depiction, it’s crucial to reflect on the implications of this teaching in our daily lives. The moments we find ourselves in judgment rather than in service can detract from our mission as followers of Christ. When we look at the world with eyes that see brokenness, we are called to serve rather than criticize. Our posture should always be one of humility, recognizing our own need for mercy.

For me, Christ is not waiting to condemn; even the Apostle Paul writes: “Therefore there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1, NRSVUE). In my own life, those I have ministered to and sat in counsel with over the years have experienced this invitation to come back to Him. And the sad reality is: how often do we stand in the shoes of the Pharisees? How often are we prone to judge and criticize those who have left the LDS Faith, or even those who have left the Christian faith in general? While the Pharisees saw the dinner table as a place of judgment and an opportunity to avoid those who are deemed unworthy – sinners – Christ saw it as a place of ministry, healing, and deep connection.

One of the oft-repeated excuses that frustrates me is this: The Gospel is Perfect; the Church is True – the people are not. This bumper sticker cliché seems to slap a band-aid on people who have truly been disappointed, hurt, or pushed to the side as if they don’t matter or belong. This perspective can inadvertently perpetuate a culture of exclusion rather than inclusion, failing to recognize that the essence of the Gospel is about love and reconciliation.

In reality, Jesus’ message invites every individual, regardless of their past or present struggles, to experience the fullness of His grace and mercy—a message that should resonate deeply within the walls of every church and community devoted to His service.