Christ, Our Advocate and High Priest

Welcome to this Easter conference, the third in what I hope will be an enduring Brigham Young University tradition. This conference is held on the Saturday before Easter—a day that is typically treated by Latter-day Saints, who lack the tradition of Holy Week or Good Friday, as a weekend holiday for chores or recreation. This year the conference also falls on tax day—the day when Americans respond to the edict of our empire that “all . . . should be taxed” (Luke 2:1). I hope that this Easter conference today will help you meditate for a morning on the mediator rather than on mammon; that it will provide a measure of spiritual re-creation to supplement your recreation; and that it will help transform a holiday weekend into a holy-day weekend. I thank in advance all those who will contribute to these ends during this symposium.

The occasion of our holding an Easter conference on tax day reminds me of an Easter weekend almost four hundred years ago. On Good Friday in 1613, the poet John Donne found himself riding from London westward toward Wales on a business trip. Traditionally, Good Friday is a day when the Christian world remembers the Crucifixion. It is a high holy-day, a solemn time when Christians are supposed to go to church, fast, set aside worldly affairs, and reflect on the Savior’s suffering and death. Instead, Donne devoted Good Friday, 1613, to his business obligations rather than to his religious duties. This circumstance became the subject of one of the finest devotional poems in English, entitled “Good Friday, 1613: Riding Westward.”

In it, John Donne laments, “I am carryed towards the West / This day, when my Soules forme bends toward the East.” Then he engages in a complex but moving meditation on the Crucifixion. Donne travels in his mind from Wales back across the miles and the years to the foot of the cross. He can scarcely bear to look upon the agony there, as he imagines the Son of God “humbled below us.” Donne sees in his mind those hands, which once spanned the poles and tuned the spheres, now “pierc’d with those holes”; that blood, which is the source of eternal life, “made durt of dust”; and “that flesh which was worne / By God, for his apparell, rag’d, and torne.” Such a spectacle “made [Christ’s] owne Lieutenant Nature shrinke, / It made his footstoole crack, and the Sunne winke.” How then can Donne look upon Christ’s face in agony? How can he watch God die? Yet Donne forces himself to turn his imagined gaze up to Christ’s face on the cross. As he does so, he imagines the Savior turning his gaze upon him—a scandalously sinful man who, like Augustine, was notorious for having been carried west by “pleasure or businesse” as a young man when his soul should have inclined eastward toward the Savior. There follows this stunning conclusion, in which the poet pleads to be purified:

Though these things, as I ride, be from mine eye, 
They’are present yet unto my memory,
For that looks towards them; and thou look’st towards mee,
O Saviour, as thou hang’st upon the tree; 
I turne my backe to thee, but to receive 
Corrections, till thy mercies bid thee leave.
O thinke mee worth thine anger, punish mee, 
Burne off my rusts, and my deformity, 
Restore thine Image, so much, by thy grace,
That thou may’st know mee, and I’ll turne my face.¹

Brothers and sisters, like Donne, all of us need the Savior to burn off the stains and rusts we accumulate in mortality. We, too, look to Christ to re-form by grace what we have de-formed by sin. May this hope for wholeness point our westward wandering souls eastward toward a garden, a cross, and an empty tomb.

When we experience the purifying power of the Atonement, we may feel to exclaim with Enos, “Lord, how is it done?” (Enos 1:7). I know of no more compelling theological question in scripture than this. I want to give some perspective on this question today. Now I do not claim to fully comprehend the awesome arithmetic of the Atonement by which one man’s death adds up to life for all men, and a guiltless man’s suffering cancels guilt of the penitent who come unto him. Like Enos, I, too, often wonder, “Lord, how is it done?”

Even so, I believe that scripture provides a remarkably intimate glimpse into the mechanics of mediation—that is, into how it is done—in its descriptions of Christ as our advocate and high priest. Scripture allows us to overhear the Son pleading our cause to the Father. It invites us to enter into the heavenly Holy of Holies where God dwells with our great high priest and where every day is a Day of Atonement. The scriptures we will consider provide sacred glimpses into “how it is done.” So on this Saturday before Easter, let us mentally doff the shoes from off our feet and enter into the sanctuary where our salvation is wrought.

Traditionally, Christ is thought to have combined the three Old Testament offices of prophet, priest, and king. This triplet will be familiar to Latter-day Saints from the hymn “I Know That My Redeemer Lives,” which appeared in the first LDS hymnal: “He lives, my Prophet, Priest, and King.”² As “prophet” Christ is our teacher and exemplar whose words and actions reveal God’s word to the world. As “king” Christ is our ruler, judge, lawgiver, and lord into whose hands the Father has given the government of his kingdom. As “priest” Christ is our redeemer, mediator, intercessor, and advocate with the Father who makes a blood sacrifice that enables us to be cleansed from sin. You’ll note that I subsume the role of advocate under the role as priest. These are intercessory functions whereby Christ intervenes in our behalf.

Modern revelation expands and greatly develops our understanding of Christ as an advocate. Advocate occurs five times in the Doctrine and Covenants. Jesus is called advocate only once in the New Testament. This occurs in 1 John 2:1: “my little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not. And if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.” Christ is alluded to as advocate many times in modern revelation. Modern revelation also clarifies even the verse in 1 John. The Joseph Smith translation makes clear that Christ pleads the acts as advocate for those who repent.

The term advocate in 1 John 2 translates the Greek parakletos, which connotes one who is at our side, our helper. The same term is used for the Holy Ghost as comforter. The idea here is that Christ is by our side, as a helper and our defender, who speaks on our behalf. An advocate is literally one who speaks for us, from the Latin ad vocare “to speak for.”

The fullest and most intimate description of Christ as advocate in modern revelation occurs in Doctrine and Covenants 45:3–5. I have come to regard this passage much as I do D&C 19:15–20, in which the Savior recounts his atoning sacrifice, “which suffering caused myself, even God, . . . to tremble because of pain” (v. 18). Both passages are remarkably intimate, first-person descriptions by the Savior of the Atonement. In D&C 45, the Savior describes his sacred, saving interaction with the Father: “Listen to him who is the advocate with the Father, who is pleading your cause before him—Saying: Father, behold the sufferings and death of him who did no sin, in whom thou wast well pleased; behold the blood of thy Son which was shed, the blood of him whom thou gavest that thyself might be glorified; Wherefore, Father, spare these my brethren that believe on my name, that they may come unto me and have everlasting life” (vv. 3–5).

So many things are noteworthy about this passage. Let me mention several:

1. Note the present tense: he is pleading our cause, as if this is his constant, ongoing activity before the Father. Likewise, he points to his suffering, death, and blood as if they were present for the Father’s contemplation: As in Donne’s poem, it is as if the Son and the Father are reliving the great agony in the garden and on the cross in an eternal present. Elder Neal A. Maxwell notes the “ongoingness” of Christ’s atoning advocacy for us.³

2. Note the emphasis: it falls almost entirely on the Savior’s redemptive suffering and only minimally on our actions. He asks the Father to spare us based on the Savior’s merits not ours. We have a part to play in this divine drama of salvation, to be sure. It is briefly acknowledged in the phrase: “that believe on my name.” But what we have done (i.e., believe) seems so small and insignificant compared to what is done for us as to be almost embarrassing. For we, as believers, are the beneficiaries of the Son’s suffering and death, his perfect life, and his shed blood—not to mention of the Father’s sacrifice in being willing to give such a son to be so treated for our salvation.

All these things mentioned in verse four enable the Father to spare us. Surely there is not a more crucial “wherefore” in scripture than that in verse five. This causal conjunction denotes the reason the Father should consider this appeal. The hopes of every believer hinge upon this “wherefore.”

3. Note that Jesus calls us, familiarly, “my brethren.” Of course, as Latter-day Saints know, this is literally true: We are all sons and daughters of God, Christ being the firstborn and our eldest brother. Nevertheless, in context, this does not sound like a mere statement of fact. Rather, it sounds here as if Christ were naming us as his kin, as if we were somehow his equals even in the context of his advocacy—in which we are utterly dependent. He does not have to refer to us as “my brethren.” He could call us, just as well name us, “these poor sinners” or even “these thy saints.” Instead, he expresses solidarity with his fallen siblings—that is, with us, “these my brethren.” What condescension; what a merciful, gracious phrase. Here is an advocate who loves us though he knows our weaknesses—for he has taken upon himself our infirmities. Here is an advocate who knows how to succor us. As the Lord says in D&C 62:1, “Behold, and hearken, O ye elders of my church, saith the Lord your God, even Jesus Christ, your advocate, who knoweth the weakness of man and how to succor them who are tempted.”

4. Note that he pleads for grace for those “that believe on my name” (present tense) in order “that they may come unto me” (future). The first relative clause describes the present condition of the redeemed: they are believers. The second anticipates their future conditions: as those who have been forgiven and are thus enabled to come unto him and inherit eternal life. As our advocate, Christ pleads not only for forgiveness or justification but also ultimately for sanctification. His intercession both spares us from punishment and enables us to come unto him and have eternal life. It opens the door for at-one-ment with the Father and the Son.

5. Finally, note that both here and elsewhere in scripture Christ is always portrayed as our advocate with the Father. In some ways this relationship between Father and Son is puzzling. Is the Father our accuser, who stands in opposition to our advocate? No, this role belongs to Satan (see Rev. 12:10). The very name devil (diabolos) means accuser or slanderer. If he is not our accuser, is the Father an advocate of justice and the Son an advocate of mercy? Well, yes and no. The scriptures sometimes suggest this, as in D&C 109 when Joseph prays that the Father “wilt turn away thy wrath when thou lookest upon the face of thine Anointed” (v. 53). The scriptures contain several similar passages that could lead one to attribute mercy and justice to separate members of the Godhead. But it would be a mistake to think that the Father embodies only justice and vengeance while the Son embodies only mercy and compassion. Just as the Son is both our merciful advocate and our just judge, so the Father possesses the qualities of both justice and mercy in their fullness. One is not more merciful or just than the other. To the extent that Christ comes as advocate before his Father to summon forth mercy, it is mercy which already exists in his Father’s heart.

But I think there is yet another way of looking at this divine drama between advocate Son and his Father. As our advocate with the Father Christ is not so much placating a wrathful God as he is claiming his rights under the covenant—the new covenant—to extend mercy. This right is predicated on the blood of one who “did no sin.” Through the Atonement, Jesus earned a place at the “right hand of God,” as Mormon says, “to claim of the Father his rights of mercy. . . . wherefore he advocateth the cause of the children of men” (Moro. 7:27–28). Likewise, as Jesus tells the Prophet Joseph Smith: “I am Christ, and . . . by the virtue of the blood which I have spilt, have I pleaded before the Father for them” (D&C 38:4). As advocate, Jesus claims his “rights of mercy” with the Father, which he earned by virtue of the blood he spilt.

This is the way I read the extraordinary first-person glimpse we get from D&C 45 into the Savior’s role as our advocate with the Father. In effect, Christ is saying to his Father, “behold the fearful price that has been paid for salvation; wherefore spare those who believe in me so that they may become one with us and receive eternal life.”

As advocate, Christ intercedes for us as our great high priest. He prays to the Father “for them . . . which shall believe on me”: “sanctify them through thy truth. . . . That they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us . . . that they may be made perfect in one” (John 17:20, 17, 21, 23). Advocate and priest are both intercessory, mediatorial, priestly offices.

Let me now speak a bit more about the Savior’s role as high priest. This is described most fully, of course, in the epistle to the Hebrews. In fact, it is the controlling idea of Paul’s epistle. Paul recognized that the high priest who entered into the Holy of Holies on the Day of Atonement was a “shadow of heavenly things” (Heb. 8:5). Once a year, the high priest entered with a censer of incense to make the blood offering that would cleanse the people from sin. Similarly, as high priest, Christ has entered into the Holy of Holies in heaven. He does so, however, not “by the blood of goats and calves, but by his own blood he entered in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for us” (Heb. 9:12). “For Christ is not entered into the holy places made with hands, which are the figures of the true; but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us” (Heb. 9:24).

But this is not all. Not only has Christ entered the Holy of Holies, but he has also made this possible for all of us. In ancient Israel only the high priest could pass through the second veil into this inner sanctuary where stood the mercy seat. Christ’s atoning sacrifice has made this possible for all believers. Paul says that Christ opened unto us a “new and living way” to pass through the veil of Christ’s flesh; “by the blood of Jesus” whereby we can enter the holiest place. We may “therefore, brethren, [have] boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus, By a new and living way, which he hath consecrated for us, through the veil, that is to say, his flesh” (Heb. 10:19–21).

This is sweet and hopeful doctrine. It has caused me to pray more earnestly of late for forgiveness through the atoning blood of Christ. I have echoed in my devotions the prayers of the people of Mosiah: “O have mercy, and apply the atoning blood of Christ that we may receive forgiveness of our sins, and our hearts may be purified; for we believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God” (Mosiah 4:2).

I have imagined the Savior, as advocate and high priest, coming before the Father to plead for me. How grateful I have felt to have such an advocate, “who knoweth the weakness of man and how to succor them who are tempted” (D&C 62:1). Likewise, I take comfort in Paul’s descriptions of Christ as high priest, who “took not on him the nature of angels” but was “made like unto his brethren, that he might be a merciful . . . high priest. . . . For in that he himself hath suffered being tempted, he is able to succour them that are tempted” (Heb. 2:16–18). Consequently, he “can have compassion on . . . them that are out of the way; for that he himself also is compassed with infirmity” (Heb. 5:2). This knowledge ought to embolden us to come to the Father’s throne: “For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need” (Heb. 4:15–16).

I began by quoting a great seventeenth-century religious poet. Let me end with another: John Milton. At the end of Paradise Lost, Milton beautifully describes the Son acting in the office as Priest and Advocate in behalf of fallen Adam and Eve, who have offered a heartfelt prayer consisting not only of spoken words but of unutterable sighs (compare Rom. 8:26). These ascend to heaven where Christ, “their great intercessor,” clad like a priest with incense, comes before the Father’s throne and says:

See Father, what first fruits on Earth are sprung
From thy implanted Grace in Man, these Sighs
And Prayers, which in this Golden Censer, mixt
With Incense, I thy Priest before thee bring, 
Fruits of more pleasing savour from thy seed 
Sow’n with contrition in his heart, then those 
Which his own hand manuring all the Trees 
Of Paradise could have produc’t, ere fall’n 
From innocence. Now therefore bend thine eare
To supplication, heare his sighs though mute;
Unskilful with what words to pray, let mee 
Interpret for him, mee his Advocate
And propitiation, . . .
. . .
. . . let him live
Before thee reconcil’d, . . .
. . .
To better life shall yeeld him, where with mee
All my redeemd may dwell in joy and bliss,
Made one with me as I with thee am one.
To whom the Father [answers]
All thy request for Man, accepted Son, 
Obtain, all thy request was my Decree.⁴

I testify that Christ is our advocate and priest. He pleads for us. He prays for us with the Father. He has entered the heavenly Holy of Holies through his own blood and made Atonement so that we can have “the boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus.” Oh it is wonderful, wonderful to me.