Elder Hopkinson's Farewell Talk
Date: Sunday February 11, 2017
Topic: The Atonement
My name is Spencer Hopkinson. Tonight I’ll be set apart as a missionary. Tomorrow I’ll board a plane, and by Tuesday morning I’ll be at the Missionary Training Center in Sao Paulo Brazil. For about seven hundred and thirty days, I’ll leave behind familiar, comfortable surroundings to provide service and teaching meant to emulate Christ. When I return, I’ll have spent almost a tenth of my lifetime in Brazil. This perspective reveals, above all, the very limited extent of my experience. I can’t claim any impressive depth of wisdom, expertise, or even casual good advice, but I will try to explain why and how I’m standing here today with the help of the examples of those I think who can.
A two year mission has for me been a distant but obvious step for as long as I understood what a mission was. Even after receiving a call to serve, and understanding the commitment made, it takes the few days before leaving to realize how far from a casual decision this is. I received my mission call in September. Here’s a quick recap of the time between graduation and my call. After graduation, the novelty of being home without any pressing responsibility quickly wore off. I walked into a staffing agency and jumped onto the first job available, which amounted to being stuck outside in the Arizona summer heat ferrying packages and storage bins around a resort for 8 hours. It turned out that what was called a “rotating schedule” meant working most weekends, including Sundays. I realized the reason the job came so easily was that, nobody in their right mind stayed longer than a few months. I continued this pattern and left after two months. I started an internship for my Dad, and after two months, I swore off programming as a career.
After receiving my call, and as a result of being given months of free time, I changed direction, starting and finishing an EMT fast track course, which became the catalyst for a revived habit of prayer nights, mornings, and eventually several times during the day before exams that appeared without fail, every day. After finishing the course classwork and physical skills, two twelve hour shifts at emergency rooms are required. I said silent prayers before beginning each shift, basically asking just to remember what I needed in order to not to be a burden to the professionals around me. I said a prayer after each shift thanking that all had gone well, I hadn’t hurt anyone, and so forth. I said several prayers for help before taking the national registry exam. I said a prayer of thanks when I discovered just last Monday that I had passed.
I began temple work a month ago, and worked my last shift yesterday morning; of all preparation for a mission, or service in general, it seems to me that temple work is one of, if not the most effective and engaging experiences even with limited time. I took steps that I now wish I had taken more of, and earlier. I’m glad to have had that time to prepare for the future in both spiritual and worldly terms. My parents have also, thankfully, provided me with a lifetime of sound advice. Some of it appeared to me as overly obsessive, specific, even bureaucratic. In retrospect, maybe a hundredth of the decisions I’ve made directly against parental advice have ended more positively than they would have otherwise. I’m sure some cases exist, but I didn’t manage to think of one while writing this talk.
By contrast, specific instances of guidance or advice have lead directly to this specific calling in Brazil. I’ll share one with you.
Halfway into senior year, I heard about a missing half-credit. Everything else was all in order, but instead of sacrificing a single daily hour in my schedule for a common sense solution, I decided to coast through Mountain View’s “online bowling” course. The class involved more overzealous paper pushing than bowling, and a strangely enthusiastic instructor, and I quickly regretted having even considered it. Because the class was well-known as the closest thing to a joke in the history of high school education, I put it aside until the last month before graduation. Of all bizarre scenarios possible, I naturally ended up with the dilemma of shuffling between preventing a delayed high school graduation, thanks to not bowling enough, or giving up seminary graduation due to missed make-up work. This was thanks to an impressive level of procrastination I’d developed over my entire time in high school (which persists up to and including the Saturday night I wrote this.)
While the idea that I was about to let myself bypass seminary graduation in favor to such a minor, even meaningless responsibility left a bad taste. I still prioritized high school graduation first. My parents helpfully suggested that I place Seminary on an equal level of importance. At the time, it seemed odd to suggest that they were equal in importance, but this perspective, as far as I could tell, was totally obvious to them as a rational decision. I decided to put my trust where it had almost never failed before, and so, I grudgingly worked on several Seminary projects daily, in between painfully worthless online projects including an unreasonably detailed essay about what the course called “famous bowlers”. I turned in all of my work for both classes just a few days before graduation. I’ve left out a lot, just know I made everything as difficult as possible.
I recently learned that Brazil requires what the government defines as ministers to have completed formal religious education, and seminary graduation meets these requirements. My parents did not know this until recently, and they had no specific predictions or even thoughts at all about Brazil. Their guidance on seminary wasn’t just a specific endorsement of the church education system, but a reminder of the importance of following the counsel given by prophets and apostles. Even ignoring the spiritual benefits that come from being around an environment centered around the truth found in the Gospel. I nearly excluded myself from specific, hidden opportunities because I planned to opt for what seemed rational.
I don’t mean to put my parents on a pedestal, and I don’t think they want to be put there. My parents, and countless others (in and outside of the church), both understand their own status as imperfect people, and have shown their children that even parents who rightfully are in their minds heroes need something as humbling and equalizing as repentance.
We believe that through the Atonement of Christ, all mankind may be saved, by obedience to the laws and ordinances of the Gospel. (Articles of Faith 1:3)
While writing this talk I was forced to confront the fact that much of my knowledge surrounding Atonement of Christ is surface level. I challenged myself to exactly define why the atonement was necessary. I imagined myself as an outside observer and asked myself why a perfect man can save even one imperfect person, let alone all mankind. That question might still remain after learning about the Plan of Salvation. It’s a complicated question (or it seems to me). I wondered if there was even a way to explain the Plan.
I looked to see how others outside of the church interpreted the answer.
Here’s an excerpt from a Catholic minister:
Before the law of Moses was the law followed by Adam in the book of Moses, Chapter 5:
What interested me between all the different perspectives, in and outside of the church were a common theme of eternal law. One Christian theologian suggested the Atonement was Christ’s way of making up for mankind’s “lack of legal right to exist”.
It reminded me of a parable told by Elder Boyd K Packer making use of debt as an object lesson. To summarize: When a debt is overdue, a man in debt will ask for mercy, and a lender will ask for justice. A third man, a friend of the debtor is necessary to fulfill the request of both. The third man, or mediator pays the debt, but actually does not forgive the debtor of his debt. Instead, he now owes that same debt to the mediator. Because we are imperfect, we all are debtors. Because “no unclean thing can enter the kingdom of God”, nothing we could offer is enough to pay that debt. Christ serves as mediator, making himself a new creditor to all of us.
The Atonement doesn’t shift responsibility from us to this Savior, but replaces hopeless conditions with the chance to determine our own outcome by exercising our agency, or the ability to choose between good and evil. As Elder Boyd K Packer said, “Through Him mercy can be fully extended to each of us without offending the eternal law of justice.”
For me, understanding eternal law is easier with the gift of agency as a central idea. Satan’s plan for mortality at first glance appears agreeable. Every single soul is automatically returned safely. In this plan there is only mercy. To escape justice, agency is removed, and so is the knowledge of good and evil.
With this in proper perspective, justice is fulfilled by each of our ability to choose from right and wrong. The Atonement of Jesus Christ allows mercy through the blessings we receive during and after mortality through living righteously, and also allows justice by placing the responsibility for our souls in our own hands.
I bear my testimony in the power of the Atonement of Christ, and the importance of missionary work, . . . . . . in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
Topic: The Atonement
My name is Spencer Hopkinson. Tonight I’ll be set apart as a missionary. Tomorrow I’ll board a plane, and by Tuesday morning I’ll be at the Missionary Training Center in Sao Paulo Brazil. For about seven hundred and thirty days, I’ll leave behind familiar, comfortable surroundings to provide service and teaching meant to emulate Christ. When I return, I’ll have spent almost a tenth of my lifetime in Brazil. This perspective reveals, above all, the very limited extent of my experience. I can’t claim any impressive depth of wisdom, expertise, or even casual good advice, but I will try to explain why and how I’m standing here today with the help of the examples of those I think who can.
A two year mission has for me been a distant but obvious step for as long as I understood what a mission was. Even after receiving a call to serve, and understanding the commitment made, it takes the few days before leaving to realize how far from a casual decision this is. I received my mission call in September. Here’s a quick recap of the time between graduation and my call. After graduation, the novelty of being home without any pressing responsibility quickly wore off. I walked into a staffing agency and jumped onto the first job available, which amounted to being stuck outside in the Arizona summer heat ferrying packages and storage bins around a resort for 8 hours. It turned out that what was called a “rotating schedule” meant working most weekends, including Sundays. I realized the reason the job came so easily was that, nobody in their right mind stayed longer than a few months. I continued this pattern and left after two months. I started an internship for my Dad, and after two months, I swore off programming as a career.
After receiving my call, and as a result of being given months of free time, I changed direction, starting and finishing an EMT fast track course, which became the catalyst for a revived habit of prayer nights, mornings, and eventually several times during the day before exams that appeared without fail, every day. After finishing the course classwork and physical skills, two twelve hour shifts at emergency rooms are required. I said silent prayers before beginning each shift, basically asking just to remember what I needed in order to not to be a burden to the professionals around me. I said a prayer after each shift thanking that all had gone well, I hadn’t hurt anyone, and so forth. I said several prayers for help before taking the national registry exam. I said a prayer of thanks when I discovered just last Monday that I had passed.
I began temple work a month ago, and worked my last shift yesterday morning; of all preparation for a mission, or service in general, it seems to me that temple work is one of, if not the most effective and engaging experiences even with limited time. I took steps that I now wish I had taken more of, and earlier. I’m glad to have had that time to prepare for the future in both spiritual and worldly terms. My parents have also, thankfully, provided me with a lifetime of sound advice. Some of it appeared to me as overly obsessive, specific, even bureaucratic. In retrospect, maybe a hundredth of the decisions I’ve made directly against parental advice have ended more positively than they would have otherwise. I’m sure some cases exist, but I didn’t manage to think of one while writing this talk.
By contrast, specific instances of guidance or advice have lead directly to this specific calling in Brazil. I’ll share one with you.
Halfway into senior year, I heard about a missing half-credit. Everything else was all in order, but instead of sacrificing a single daily hour in my schedule for a common sense solution, I decided to coast through Mountain View’s “online bowling” course. The class involved more overzealous paper pushing than bowling, and a strangely enthusiastic instructor, and I quickly regretted having even considered it. Because the class was well-known as the closest thing to a joke in the history of high school education, I put it aside until the last month before graduation. Of all bizarre scenarios possible, I naturally ended up with the dilemma of shuffling between preventing a delayed high school graduation, thanks to not bowling enough, or giving up seminary graduation due to missed make-up work. This was thanks to an impressive level of procrastination I’d developed over my entire time in high school (which persists up to and including the Saturday night I wrote this.)
While the idea that I was about to let myself bypass seminary graduation in favor to such a minor, even meaningless responsibility left a bad taste. I still prioritized high school graduation first. My parents helpfully suggested that I place Seminary on an equal level of importance. At the time, it seemed odd to suggest that they were equal in importance, but this perspective, as far as I could tell, was totally obvious to them as a rational decision. I decided to put my trust where it had almost never failed before, and so, I grudgingly worked on several Seminary projects daily, in between painfully worthless online projects including an unreasonably detailed essay about what the course called “famous bowlers”. I turned in all of my work for both classes just a few days before graduation. I’ve left out a lot, just know I made everything as difficult as possible.
I recently learned that Brazil requires what the government defines as ministers to have completed formal religious education, and seminary graduation meets these requirements. My parents did not know this until recently, and they had no specific predictions or even thoughts at all about Brazil. Their guidance on seminary wasn’t just a specific endorsement of the church education system, but a reminder of the importance of following the counsel given by prophets and apostles. Even ignoring the spiritual benefits that come from being around an environment centered around the truth found in the Gospel. I nearly excluded myself from specific, hidden opportunities because I planned to opt for what seemed rational.
I don’t mean to put my parents on a pedestal, and I don’t think they want to be put there. My parents, and countless others (in and outside of the church), both understand their own status as imperfect people, and have shown their children that even parents who rightfully are in their minds heroes need something as humbling and equalizing as repentance.
We believe that through the Atonement of Christ, all mankind may be saved, by obedience to the laws and ordinances of the Gospel. (Articles of Faith 1:3)
While writing this talk I was forced to confront the fact that much of my knowledge surrounding Atonement of Christ is surface level. I challenged myself to exactly define why the atonement was necessary. I imagined myself as an outside observer and asked myself why a perfect man can save even one imperfect person, let alone all mankind. That question might still remain after learning about the Plan of Salvation. It’s a complicated question (or it seems to me). I wondered if there was even a way to explain the Plan.
I looked to see how others outside of the church interpreted the answer.
Here’s an excerpt from a Catholic minister:
"According to the old Mosaic covenant, priests would offer animal sacrifices to God for the sins of the people, substituting the death of the animal for the punishment deserved by the people for their sins and disobedience. Just as in the Old Covenant the high priest would offer animal sacrifices on behalf of the people, so Christ became the new high priest who offered himself as the sacrificial offering for the sins of the people for all time. While the Old Covenant required ongoing sacrifices, Jesus’ was once and for all, never to be repeated: “he entered once for all into the sanctuary, not with the blood of goats and calves but with his own blood, thus obtaining eternal redemption. Hebrews 9:12"
Before the law of Moses was the law followed by Adam in the book of Moses, Chapter 5:
5 And he gave unto them commandments, that they should worship the Lord their God, and should offer the firstlings of their flocks, for an offering unto the Lord. And Adam was obedient unto the commandments of the Lord. 6 And after many days an angel of the Lord appeared unto Adam, saying: Why dost thou offer sacrifices unto the Lord? And Adam said unto him: I know not, save the Lord commanded me. 7 And then the angel spake, saying: This thing is a similitude of the sacrifice of the Only Begotten of the Father, which is full of grace and truth.
What interested me between all the different perspectives, in and outside of the church were a common theme of eternal law. One Christian theologian suggested the Atonement was Christ’s way of making up for mankind’s “lack of legal right to exist”.
It reminded me of a parable told by Elder Boyd K Packer making use of debt as an object lesson. To summarize: When a debt is overdue, a man in debt will ask for mercy, and a lender will ask for justice. A third man, a friend of the debtor is necessary to fulfill the request of both. The third man, or mediator pays the debt, but actually does not forgive the debtor of his debt. Instead, he now owes that same debt to the mediator. Because we are imperfect, we all are debtors. Because “no unclean thing can enter the kingdom of God”, nothing we could offer is enough to pay that debt. Christ serves as mediator, making himself a new creditor to all of us.
The Atonement doesn’t shift responsibility from us to this Savior, but replaces hopeless conditions with the chance to determine our own outcome by exercising our agency, or the ability to choose between good and evil. As Elder Boyd K Packer said, “Through Him mercy can be fully extended to each of us without offending the eternal law of justice.”
For me, understanding eternal law is easier with the gift of agency as a central idea. Satan’s plan for mortality at first glance appears agreeable. Every single soul is automatically returned safely. In this plan there is only mercy. To escape justice, agency is removed, and so is the knowledge of good and evil.
With this in proper perspective, justice is fulfilled by each of our ability to choose from right and wrong. The Atonement of Jesus Christ allows mercy through the blessings we receive during and after mortality through living righteously, and also allows justice by placing the responsibility for our souls in our own hands.
I bear my testimony in the power of the Atonement of Christ, and the importance of missionary work, . . . . . . in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
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