President Ezra Taft Benson kept a plaque on his desk that read, “Be right, and then be easy to live with, if possible—but in that order.”[1] To those who knew his forthright personality, the plaque captures him perfectly, but to those striving to navigate our fractured social environment, difficult questions arise. What does it mean to be right when taking a position is neither simple, clear, nor uncontested? How can we “be easy to live with” when it seems that only the argumentative and unbending prevail? Is it possible to maintain conviction and extend compassion simultaneously, when one so often succumbs to the other? If not, which of the two stands first in order of importance? Or if so, in which order should they be pursued? When the two seem mutually exclusive, surely some principle exists to determine which to choose.

With such questions compelling us, we shift President Benson’s mantra from plaque to paperweight, grounding the pages that follow under the weight of its words. Each element will demand our attention: being right (which this paper will label orthodoxy[2]), being “easy to live with” (here labeled harmony), their occasional incompatibility (“if possible”), and the proper order in which they should be valued and pursued. We will first reframe the problem in religious terms, after which we will turn to the Book of Mormon for possible solutions, primarily in the Lord’s postmortal ministry among the Nephites. Specifically, we will study how Jesus dealt with three instances of orthodoxy being pursued at harmony’s expense, interactions he uniformly condemned in favor of a better, more balanced way. That way will confirm the cogency of President Benson’s desktop reminder, affirm the compatibility of orthodoxy and harmony, and nuance the thorny issue of order—distinguishing between their order of importance and their order of implementation. Based on the Savior’s approach, this paper will argue that conviction and compassion can coexist, that orthodoxy must remain the ultimate end, and that harmony in pursuit of orthodoxy is more likely to achieve its aim than orthodoxy in pursuit of harmony. By seeing how the Savior steered his disciples between a kind but indiscriminate relativism at one extreme (harmony at the expense of orthodoxy) and a well-meaning but confrontational dogmatism at the other (orthodoxy at the expense of harmony), we will learn how we might inch across similar tightropes. The way to “be right” and simultaneously “easy to live with” is to follow the example of Jesus Christ.

“If Possible”

Orthodoxy and harmony can form a notoriously unstable compound, as anyone caught in conflict or compromise can attest. Orthodoxy tends to privilege a single correct way of believing or behaving, while harmony, by nature, involves blending multiple notes simultaneously. Orthodoxy can be broad enough to include multiple perspectives, of course, and harmonies can include dissonance as well as well as consonance, but the notes must be in a particular relationship to one another lest cacophony result. Abraham Lincoln seemed to have this in mind when he chose the perfect metaphor with which to conclude his fraught first inaugural address: “the mystic chords of memory” would have to replace sectional disharmony if the “chorus of the Union” were again to “swell,” and such notes would have to come from North and South alike.[3] The same is true of the issues that currently divide our society. As President Dallin H. Oaks has recently urged, we must “work for a better way—a way to resolve differences without compromising core values.”[4] Rival camps must each provide notes to form a common chord, aiming to harmonize despite deep and seemingly intractable differences.

The challenge, of course, is that “resolv[ing] differences without compromising core values” is painstaking and precarious work, with each half of President Oaks’s statement causing concern at opposite extremes. For staunch proponents of a position, the phrase “resolv[ing] differences” with one’s opponents sounds like capitulation, and for those same opponents, the phrase “without compromising core values” makes proponents seem unbending from the start. Thus, friction arises not only between parties but within them, as clashes over compromise erupt between moderates and “extremists” (as moderates call the uncompromising) or between purists and “sellouts” (as purists call the compromisers). Even in language, neutrality is hard to find.

Diversity is thus fraught with difficulty, requiring each of us to learn when, if, and (most importantly) how to compromise. In the face of conflict, creating harmonious chords typically requires one orthodoxy to bow to another, or both to bow together. In music theory—and we could add political theory—the term is “resolution,” and it occurs only when one or more notes in a dissonant chord finally change their pitch. Even then harmony may only last a measure, especially when culture keeps changing its key. Even at its most stable, orthodoxy is seldom a permanently settled, universally recognized, or uniformly applied standard, especially in diverse societies that strain the elasticity of orthodoxy and harmony alike.

Whether it is orthodoxy that should acquiesce or harmony that ought to surrender is thus as debatable as which should yield first (“in that order”) or whether either could even hope to produce its opposite (“if possible”). This leaves these two elements either locked in a game of chicken or stuck in a chicken-and-egg dilemma, made all the more intractable precisely because of their seeming incompatibility. Here, chickens don’t want to lay and eggs don’t want to hatch, for neither wants to admit that they are related, let alone make way for its alternate. But lay and hatch they must, for the survival of the species depends on it.

The same is true of humans, for feathers or not we unavoidably flock together. Thus, one need not master the intricacies of Hobbes, Locke, and Rousseau to wrestle with social contract theory.[5] Experience with social contact theory will do, for we debate issues of orthodoxy—with or without the academic jargon—in myriad interactions across the political aisle, the religious wall, and even the backyard fence.[6] And somehow we remain amicable neighbors (more or less), whether through uncomfortable compromises or a mutual tolerance often closer to awkward avoidance or benign neglect. Unfortunately, our interactions typically come at the expense of either orthodoxy or harmony, and our imbalances seem to be widening. Against a backdrop of hyperpartisan politics, economic inequality, racial discord, and social schism (“civil wars” no less divisive than that of Lincoln’s day), we seem to be deficient in both consensus and compassion, and we long to do better. We hope to coexist and cooperate, the first facilitated by shared fellow feeling (the realm of harmony), and the second catalyzed by shared vision and common goals (the domain of orthodoxy). The former wants to do right by those with whom it associates; the latter wants to be right by a standard suspicious of debate. Whence cometh compromise? That is the pressing question.

The challenge maps nicely over Robert Putnam and David Campbell’s American Grace, a sociological study that tries to make sense of the current state of religion in the United States, which somehow combines both deepening polarization (the bad news) and increasing pluralism (the good news). The authors describe the potential conflict between diversity, which prizes harmony, and devotion, which prizes orthodoxy, and identify as most potentially volatile those societies with high levels of both. If a society is diverse but not devout, then differences of opinion do not lead to conflict because people do not feel deeply enough about them to care. Conversely, in a society that is devout but not diverse, opinions are deeply held—to the point that they may not be considered opinions—but because people agree upon those issues they can pursue them fairly uniformly. Friction arises when differences exist that are passionately debated, in which case either the difference of opinion or the depth of one’s emotion must be sacrificed somewhat. How have we handled this religiously? Putnam and Campbell argue that it is our religious fluidity that facilitates peaceful coexistence, which in turn has enabled interreligious relationships to develop. It is these relationships that defuse the potential powder keg, since “it is difficult to damn those you know and love.”[7]

Love wins the day, then—more proof that “charity never faileth” (1 Corinthians 13:8). But is it love of neighbor at the expense of love of God? A sacrifice of religious orthodoxy on the altar of social harmony? The very fluidity Putnam and Campbell identify as the oil that reduces religious friction would suggest that devotion is acquiescing to diversity as horizontal relationships with others trump one’s vertical relationship with God. Examples in the book abound: a prominent megachurch pastor carrying a Bible during his self-help sermons but not opening it to quote the potentially divisive word of God; the avoidance of denominational labels in favor of a generic Christianity that avoids drawing lines in the ecclesial sand; a preference among parishioners for a “flexible theology” some have labelled “Christianity Lite.” As an Episcopal priest admitted, “The church is experiencing a moment of theological crisis right now” due to a lack of clear conviction (that is, an established orthodoxy). “Our greatest strength is that we don’t come down hard on a lot of issues. But it’s also our greatest weakness.”[8]

Thankfully, Jesus Christ has a way of turning weaknesses into strengths (see Ether 12:27). In fact, as he told Philip near the end of his mortal ministry, he is “the way” (John 14:6), meaning his message, ministry, and mission provide the answers to the kinds of questions we are wrestling with here. Furthermore, in the same breath Jesus affirmed that he was also “the truth” and “the life,” titles suggestive of the dual demands we are striving to balance. As the truth, Jesus is the embodiment of orthodoxy: “No man cometh unto the Father, but by me” (John 14:6). But as the life, Jesus also personifies the traits that smooth the rough edges of our lived interpersonal experiences, the attributes that allow diverse individuals to “live together in love” (Doctrine and Covenants 42:45). The Savior’s way perfectly balances truth and life, orthodoxy and harmony, justice and mercy, law and love. He who said, “If ye love me, keep my commandments” (John 14:15), also commanded that we “love one another” as he did (John 13:34; 15:12, 17), which involved the constant interaction of the first and second “great commandments.” On the proper balancing of these opposites “hang all the law and the prophets” (Matthew 22:37–40). More dramatically given our current context, on the interplay of orthodoxy and harmony hangs the future of society itself.

Condemning Contention: The Doctrine of Christ

In searching for the proper balance between orthodoxy and harmony, it is worth noting that Jesus, during his postmortal ministry among the Nephites, first emphasized what not to do, clearly identifying which of the two elements, in absence, presented the greater sin. Once that boundary was firmly established, he could then help his disciples practice walking the tightrope in relative safety. Notice the order of events in 3 Nephi 11. After descending amid the multitudes, the risen Lord first introduces himself as the fulfillment of prophecy, the light and life of the world, and the submissive Son and Savior. Next, he invites the multitudes to come and feel the wounds in his hands and feet, to confirm for themselves his divine identity. He then confirms upon Nephi and the other disciples the authority to baptize but prefaces his explanation of the ordinance with the caution, “On this wise shall ye baptize [a call for orthodoxy]; and there shall be no disputations among you [a call for harmony]” (3 Nephi 11:22). Essential instructions then follow—the need for sincere desire and honest repentance, the proper liturgical language, and the requirement of ritual immersion—after which Jesus repeats his initial admonition: “and according as I have commanded you thus shall ye baptize [orthodoxy]. And there shall be no disputations among you, as there have hitherto been; neither shall there be disputations among you concerning the points of my doctrine, as there have hitherto been [harmony]” (3 Nephi 11:28). In the first commandment he gives the gathered multitude, Jesus establishes orthodoxy but prohibits the lack of harmony in its pursuit.

In condemning contention, Jesus is not speaking theoretically but concretely and historically: disputations had occurred in the past, no doubt in pursuit of orthodoxy,[9] but this contentious approach had to stop. Establishing liturgical orthodoxy concerning baptism—an essential ordinance without which none can enter the kingdom of heaven (see John 3:5)—is thus bookended by clear calls for harmony, which are immediately reconfirmed by Christ’s explanation of what we might call the “doctrine” of harmony because of the way he presented it: “For verily, verily I say unto you, he that hath the spirit of contention is not of me, but is of the devil, who is the father of contention, and he stirreth up the hearts of men to contend with anger, one with another. Behold, this is not my doctrine, to stir up the hearts of men with anger, one against another; but this is my doctrine, that such things should be done away” (3 Nephi 11:29–30; emphasis added).

Significantly, Christ presents the need for harmony not as mere caution while clarifying the more central doctrine of baptism but as a recognizable doctrine of its own. The word doctrine appears nine times in 3 Nephi 11, foregrounding orthodoxy in the Lord’s postmortal ministry (etymologically, the “doc” of doctrine equals the “dox” of orthodoxy). The fundamental orthodoxy Jesus is establishing is the “doctrine of Christ,” the essentials of which are captured in the “first principles and ordinances of the Gospel” enumerated in the fourth article of faith. But he couches that doctrine in the doctrine of harmony, suggesting that while orthodoxy is the goal, harmony must be the means whereby we pursue it. As the Savior concludes the discussion, “And whoso shall declare more or less than this, and establish it for my doctrine, the same cometh of evil, and is not built upon my rock” (3 Nephi 11:40). Here Jesus explicitly reconfirms the importance of orthodoxy but implicitly reaffirms the need for harmony, since “declar[ing] more or less” than his established doctrine (a sin against orthodoxy) would likely lead to renewed disputation (a sin against harmony).

The Savior’s categorical condemnation of contention, presented as a doctrine tasked with policing the conflicts between other, more contestable doctrines, gives harmony an orthodoxy of its own. Disharmony, that is, is unorthodox. Seen in this light, those Nephite antagonists for whom unorthodoxy was the greater sin would be constrained by their own convictions to maintain harmony at all costs. Otherwise, their pursuit of orthodoxy would itself be unorthodox, a fascinating example of reframing the problem so that one’s strength could combat a related weakness.

But again, as the Savior framed it, among these Nephite disciples in active pursuit of orthodoxy, unorthodoxy was not the greater sin; contention was, for he explicitly condemns their disputations, not the fact that they had not yet arrived at unanimity in true doctrine. These were righteous people pursuing righteous aims, but they were going about it in an unrighteous way. And rather than excusing their regrettable means in deference to their noble ends, as they might have done, Jesus refused such justification. He did not consider contention in pursuit of consensus a necessary evil. It was simply an evil, inspired by “the father of contention” himself, and as such, it was decidedly not necessary. In fact, in the spirit of “no power or influence can or ought to be maintained” by anything compulsory or un-Christlike (and contention is both), such approaches are not only unrighteous (the “ought”), they are downright ineffective (the “can”) (Doctrine and Covenants 121:41; emphasis added). Sinning against harmony does not lead others to stop sinning against orthodoxy, at least not willingly or permanently, which is what Jesus wants. Consequently, he did not prioritize orthodoxy in hopes that harmony would follow (a version of “if you build it, they will come”). Rather, he prioritized harmony, confident that orthodoxy could be reached if fellow feeling ensured mutual cooperation, compromise, and commitment over time. Order was everything, and he outlawed disharmony first.

But a word lest we overcorrect. In identifying a lack of harmony (i.e., disputation and contention) as the principal sin Christ condemns in 3 Nephi 11, it must not be forgotten that a lack of orthodoxy—or more accurately, orthopraxy (right behavior as defined by right belief)—was the principal sin leading up to the Savior’s appearance. I say this to emphasize the fact that social harmony did not outweigh religious orthodoxy or obedience in the eyes of Jesus. Third Nephi 8–10 makes it painfully clear that it was the wickedness of the people, both their sins against obedience (orthopraxy) and their silencing of the prophets (the guardians of orthodoxy), that brought about their destruction. Suggesting that obedience is negotiable so long as harmony prevails is overswinging the pendulum; in fact, it is succumbing to the kind of moral relativism espoused by such anti-Christs as Nehor and Korihor (see Alma 1:4; Alma 30:17), and Jesus refused to countenance that.

He it was, after all, who placed the two great commandments in their proper order. The “first and great commandment” was love of God, which ensures orthodoxy; love of neighbor, which embraces harmony, was a second-place finisher—though not a distant one. The “second is like unto” the first (Matthew 22:37–40), Jesus taught, meaning orthodoxy and harmony must remain inseparably connected. They form, respectively, the vertical and horizontal components of the cross, the post (love of God) firmly planted so that the crossbeam (love of neighbor) can be firmly attached. Love of neighbor then extends our love of God outward, while love of God lifts love of neighbor upward, raising its recipients to a higher, holier plane.

Elder D. Todd Christofferson discussed the tandem nature of the two great commandments in a 2022 message to young adults, the group most likely to reverse their order of importance. “The second commandment is a brilliant guide for human interaction,” he affirmed, but it must not be allowed to trump the first commandment as our “overarching priority.”[10] The first is “foundation,” making the second, well, secondary. Elder Christofferson made it clear, however, that these rankings were not intended to diminish the “wonderful and essential” nature of what we have been calling harmony, only to keep it in proper perspective. The difference is one of priority, which, ironically, might best be pursued by reversing their chronology, as Jesus is doing in 3 Nephi 11. We speak of “means” and “ends,” with the means preceding the ends chronologically but the ends superseding the means hierarchically. Similarly, orthodoxy can be prioritized as the ends, but with harmony as the catalyzing means. Or to state the matter differently, orthodoxy is the final destination, but harmony must pave the path.

Jesus hints at these nuances (order of priority as opposed to order of implementation) during his Sermon at the Temple, reminiscent of his Old-World Sermon on the Mount. Nothing he was about to teach was meant to “destroy the law,” which would be a sin against orthodoxy; rather, his aim was that the purposes of the law would be “fulfilled” (3 Nephi 12:17–18). However, fulfillment in the vertical sense would never come without harmony in the horizontal sense. To emphasize this point, Jesus affirms “the law and the commandments of [his] Father” and states that “except ye shall keep my commandments, . . . ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven” (3 Nephi 12:19–20). But he follows this clear confirmation of orthodoxy with a clarion call to harmony in orthodoxy’s pursuit. First, he passes judgment on “whosoever is angry with his brother” (3 Nephi 12:22)—devoid of the mitigating clause in Matthew, “without a cause” (Matthew 5:22)—suggesting that even unorthodoxy is not a justifiable “cause” for anger toward others (Jesus’s point in 3 Nephi 11). “Therefore,” he explains, “if ye shall come unto me [which assumes orthodoxy], or shall desire to come unto me [which at least maintains orthodoxy’s pursuit], and rememberest that thy brother hath aught against thee [a lack of harmony]—go thy way unto thy brother, and first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come unto me with full purpose of heart, and I will receive you” (3 Nephi 12:23–24; emphasis added).

Notice the Savior’s clear ordering of these two elements. First, orthodoxy remains the ultimate aim throughout. In fact, where Matthew’s version replaces “com[ing] unto me” with “bring[ing] thy gift to the altar,” Jesus even recommends “leav[ing] there thy gift before the altar” before going thy way to be reconciled (Matthew 5:23–24). Thus, the original goal is preserved, keeping us from forgetting the first great commandment as we turn to fulfill the second. Brotherly reconciliation does not excuse us from giving God the gifts intended; it merely pauses the process so it can be correctly pursued. Orthodoxy—whether in keeping commandments, coming unto Christ, or giving God our best offerings—remains the higher objective (first in order of priority), but if contention is present to mar the process, then horizontal harmony must first be achieved (first in order of implementation). Only then can we continue our shared upward journey.

This explains the potentially confusing next passage, in which the Savior commands, “Agree with thine adversary quickly while thou art in the way with him, lest at any time he shall get thee, and thou shalt be cast into prison. Verily, verily, I say unto thee, thou shalt by no means come out thence until thou has paid the uttermost senine. And while ye are in prison can ye pay even one senine? Verily, verily, I say unto you, Nay” (3 Nephi 12:25–26). What seems like a sin against orthodoxy through capitulating compromise (agree with thine adversary?) becomes instead a foregrounding of harmony in hopes of ultimately achieving the orthodoxy desired. We simply cannot arrive there together if we are “in the way” with each other, or to put it differently, if we are in each other’s way. If my neighbor casts me into a prison of animosity, policed by disagreement and mutual mistrust, what good does my unbending orthodoxy do him? Can it make even a senine’s worth of difference? Even worse, that “adversary” feels justified in being adversarial, since I acted as an enemy as well. Note that agreeing here does not mean denying our own orthodoxy; rather, the Greek behind the word in Matthew’s version suggests thinking kindly of the other person, of being favorably disposed toward them as a fellow human being. Jesus is commanding his disciples to avoid becoming disagreeable, even in important disagreements. That is refusing to lose hold on harmony, even during orthodoxy’s pursuit.

Looking through the lens of these passages in 3 Nephi 12, we can return to 3 Nephi 8–11 and see the destruction of the wicked (enforcing orthodoxy) and the wickedness of disputation (requiring harmony) as a delicate balancing act. Contention was a problem, but blanket amnesty for wrongdoing was not the solution, no matter how soft-sounding or well-meaning it seemed. The Nephites knew this, which may be why a caution against unorthodoxy was slightly less explicit in Christ’s message than his caution against disharmony. After the devastation they had endured, the people needed very little convincing that obedience to divine standards was required. Unlike the doctrine of harmony, that is, the doctrine of orthodoxy was clear, and they only awaited the Lord’s explanation of what his specific orthodoxies entailed. Once he declared the essentials concerning his doctrine, his disciples were ready to fulfill his command to “go forth unto this people, and declare the words which [he had] spoken, unto the ends of the earth” (3 Nephi 11:41). Still, the manner of that declaration required additional practice, for disputations continued to arise.

Establishing Orthodoxy: The Name of the Church

A second instance of contention over orthodoxy arose soon after the first, but because the Savior’s response on that occasion will require our closest attention, we will first address in brief the third example of the problem, which occurred shortly before the Lord ascended to heaven. In 3 Nephi 27 as the disciples were journeying about “preaching the things which they had both heard and seen [the orthodox doctrine of Christ], and were baptizing in the name of Jesus [no doubt in the orthodox manner],” they paused their preaching, “gathered together,” and “united in mighty prayer and fasting” (3 Nephi 27:1). In response to this display of true harmony, the Lord reappeared and asked the disciples what they desired of him, to which they responded, “Lord, we will that thou wouldst tell us the name whereby we shall call this church.” In addition to their question, however, came an important confession: “For there are disputations among the people concerning this matter” (3 Nephi 27:3). The present tense of that verb must have been concerning to them, for not only did it evince an absence of orthodoxy on a point that had not yet been established, but worse, it revealed that they (or the people at least) had not yet overcome their tendency to descend into disharmony over their differences of opinion.

Jesus was quick to establish orthodoxy in this area (see 3 Nephi 27:5–8) but even quicker to chasten them for their contentious approach. “Why is it that the people should murmur and dispute because of this thing?” (3 Nephi 27:4). To resolve the conflict, he pointed them to the scriptures and grounded his answer in what was written there, implying that they could have found the answer to their question in the word. Still, recognizing that scripture is not always interpreted easily or uniformly, Jesus then applied the scripture to their question and provided a clear answer. Orthodoxy was thereby established, with harmony not only reached by conversation’s end but directly reaffirmed along the way. For Jesus, the approach was as important as the outcome.

This clarification of orthodoxy regarding the name of the Lord’s church, introduced by a confirmation of the need for harmony in deciding it, is particularly relevant considering its repetition nearly two thousand years later within The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. In an official statement published in August 2018, in an address giving in the subsequent general conference, and in repeated reminders in the years since, President Russell M. Nelson has reiterated the need for orthodoxy in this area.[11] “The Lord has impressed upon my mind the importance of the name He has revealed for His Church,” his official statement read, a name that “is not negotiable,” as he affirmed in general conference. This nonnegotiability lies at the heart of orthodoxy, but making anything sacrosanct also makes harmony more difficult to achieve or maintain. As President Nelson admitted, “Responses to this statement . . . have been mixed,” just “as you would expect.” Still, he declared, “It is the command of the Lord.”[12]

This modern episode, which so clearly echoes the ancient one, illustrates how difficult it can be to balance orthodoxy and harmony. As one scholar of Latter-day Saint culture observed, emphasizing orthodoxy in this area “has driven a new wedge of judgment, giving members a convenient shibboleth by which to measure whether someone else truly belongs.”[13] It has also given outsiders and former members a convenient issue to dispute. As a student of faith loss myself, I noticed a significant amount of pushback to these pronouncements—some satirical, but much of it openly contentious—in online forums among disaffiliated or dissatisfied members of the Church. As just mentioned, President Nelson had expected such mixed responses but was quick to counsel Church members not to allow orthodoxy to eclipse the harmony that ought to prevail, urging instead to “be courteous and patient in our efforts to correct these errors.”[14] Unfortunately, in certain circles on both sides of the issue, the same tendency to “murmur and dispute” that Jesus noted in his day (3 Nephi 27:4) remains present in our own.

Finding the Balance: Administering the Sacrament

Of the three instances in which Jesus condemned the Nephites’ disharmonious approach to establishing orthodoxy, the second instance is the most useful, as it provides a key to unlock all three. Here Jesus is administering the sacrament and explaining its sacred nature, clarifying that it is an ordinance that, like baptism, requires proper priesthood authority on the part of the administrator and the requisite preparation on the part of the recipient (see 3 Nephi 18:5). He explains its symbolism and then, as with his explanation of the doctrine of Christ, warns the disciples against “do[ing] more or less” than what he had taught them (3 Nephi 18:13). Orthodoxy meant “buil[ding] upon my rock” and anything beyond or beneath—anything out of balance, that is—was “buil[ding] upon a sandy foundation” (3 Nephi 18:12–13).

Jesus explains what might constitute the “more or less” of the sacrament later in his discourse, a concept we will visit in a later section. But first he warns against “the gates of hell,” the “tempt[ations of] the devil,” and Satan’s desire to “sift you as wheat” (3 Nephi 18:13, 15, 18). Then, as if to acknowledge the difficulty of navigating that path without error, Jesus commands them to “meet together oft” (3 Nephi 18:22), presumably to “fast and to pray, and to speak one with another concerning the welfare of their souls,” as well as “to partake of bread and wine, in remembrance of the Lord Jesus,” to borrow Moroni’s later echo and explanation of the phrase (Moroni 6:5–6). Moroni’s reliance on Christ’s teachings in 3 Nephi 18 continues in what he says next: “And they were strict to observe that there should be no iniquity among them,” ensuring orthodoxy by blotting out the names of the unrepentant. Among the repentant, meanwhile, harmony could prevail, as it promised that “as oft as they repented and sought forgiveness, with real intent, they were forgiven” (Moroni 6:7–8).[15]

In the case that serves as Moroni’s precedent, Jesus has warned his disciples that in the frequent meetings which he was commanding, “Ye shall not forbid any man from coming unto you when ye shall meet together, but suffer them that they may come unto you and forbid them not” (3 Nephi 18:22; emphasis added). Having twice forbidden them from forbidding others, Jesus then repeats himself a third time: “Ye . . . shall not cast them out” (verse 23)—affirming an “all comers” policy among the people of God. That way, he suggests, the faithful could “pray for [others]” in person (verse 23), in hopes that the gospel message and the accompanying power of God might have their intended effect. This too Jesus repeats in quick succession, reaffirming that the purpose of gathering together was to invite all to come unto him. Christ had allowed them that opportunity, after all, and so he reminded them: “Ye see that I have commanded that none of you should go away, but rather have commanded that ye should come unto me, that ye might feel and see” (verse 25). His was an example of invitation and inclusivity that he wanted his disciples to reflect “unto the world.” If they denied this openness they might themselves be closed off, for “whosoever breaketh this commandment suffereth himself to be led into temptation” (verse 25).

This affirmation of nonjudgmental inclusivity (harmony), however, is balanced by the instructions Jesus then gives to the disciples, which constitute a clear confirmation of orthodoxy: “Ye shall not suffer any one knowingly to partake of my flesh and blood unworthily, when ye shall minister it” (verse 28). In fact, this is the one instance of “forbidding” others that Jesus not only allows but requires: “If ye know that a man is unworthy to eat and drink of my flesh and blood ye shall forbid him” from partaking of it (verse 29). Lowering the standard of righteousness for participation in the sacrament would be as damning as raising the standard of admittance to the meetings in which the sacrament was administered. The former would make repentance seem unnecessary and the latter would make repentance seem unattainable. Either way, by lowering the likelihood that people would come unto Christ, an imbalance between orthodoxy and harmony would defeat the purpose of Christ’s coming unto them.

The rival pulls between a high standard of worthiness and a low standard of admittance play out in the three verses that follow, as Jesus goes back and forth confirming both orthodoxy and harmony. One can sense his striving for a precarious balance through the conjunctions and conjunctive adverbs that open each verse, words that shift the center of gravity alternately from one side to the other, like a tightrope walker constantly shifting their weight. You must forbid the unworthy from partaking of the sacrament, the Savior commands, but then adds,

Nevertheless, ye shall not cast him out from among you, but ye shall minister unto him and shall pray for him unto the Father, in my name; and if it so be that he repenteth and is baptized in my name, then shall ye receive him, and shall minister unto him of my flesh and blood.

But if he repent not he shall not be numbered among my people, that he may not destroy my people, for behold I know my sheep, and they are numbered.

Nevertheless, ye shall not cast him out of your synagogues, or your places of worship, for unto such shall ye continue to minister; for ye know not but what they will return and repent, and come unto me with full purpose of heart, and I shall heal them; and ye shall be the means of bringing salvation unto them. (3 Nephi 18:30–32; emphasis added)

In Christ’s extended discussion of the sacrament in 3 Nephi 18, his emphasis alternates between orthodoxy and harmony repeatedly, as the following graphic makes clear:

Jesus then reminds, “Keep these sayings which I have commanded you that ye come not under condemnation,” and closes with a gentle note of condemnation of his own: “And I give you these commandments because of the disputations which have been among you. And blessed are ye if ye have no disputations among you” (verses 33–34). As with Christ’s explanation of baptism earlier and his clarification of the name of the Church yet to come, this discussion was also an effort to end disputation, contention being the inadmissible common denominator each time.

Echoes of Imbalance

One more parallel between these three accounts is worth noting, and that is the fact that orthodoxy, once reached, does not necessarily stay settled, making the need for harmony a constant through periods of conflict and change. As already mentioned, the controversy over the name of Christ’s church has been repeated in our day, and subsequent controversies echoing the arguments in 3 Nephi over baptism and the sacrament have been ongoing as well. Nearly four centuries after Jesus settled the matter of baptism, for example, Mormon learned that “there [had] been disputations among [his people] concerning the baptism of [their] little children.” In response he urged his son Moroni to put an end to the “gross error” of infant baptism and to reestablish doctrinal orthodoxy. He did so in a scathing epistle that was eminently clear and unapologetically bold, hallmarks of orthodoxy’s enforcement. But Mormon’s condemnation of heterodoxy also reflected regret over disharmony, “for it grieveth me that there should disputations rise among you” (Moroni 8:4–6). Like Jesus before him, Mormon lamented the loss of true doctrine but also grieved over the way his people were attempting to correct it.

More recent disputations over baptism have colored much of Christian history, from the arguments between Pelagius and Augustine in the fifth century to the rejection of both Catholic and Lutheran baptisms by the Anabaptists during the Reformation. Contention continued in Joseph Smith’s day, with rival restorationist Alexander Campbell writing a massive treatise on baptism in 1852[16] and the Lord himself confirming the need for an orthodox and authorized baptism in Doctrine and Covenants 22. But perhaps even more reflective of what we are discussing here is the repetition of controversy regarding admission to church meetings and to the sacrament during the Restoration’s earliest days. This too reflects the need to maintain harmony while pursuing orthodoxy and draws directly upon the Savior’s way of settling these difficulties during his Book of Mormon ministry.

With the restored Church less than a year old, the early saints began wrestling with their previously held beliefs about the standards for church admittance and attendance, much as the Nephite disciples were doing in 3 Nephi 18. The early Puritans had aspired to create a gathered community of what they termed “visible saints,” believers who were granted admission into the congregation only upon giving satisfactory evidence of saving grace.[17] The infant “Church of Christ,” as it was then called, began leaning in a similar direction, raising the standard of admittance for its meetings despite the Book of Mormon’s warnings to the contrary.

Oliver Cowdery included those cautions in his 1829 “Articles of the Church of Christ,” which drew heavily upon the Book of Mormon and, consequently, ended up addressing all three of the controversies Jesus settled in 3 Nephi. In Cowdery’s words we see the same attempt to balance orthodoxy and harmony exemplified by Christ, usually in identical language. In Church meetings, for example, the saints were to “preach the truth in soberness [orthodoxy] casting out none from among you but rather invite them to come [harmony].” The sacrament was to be administered frequently, but

if ye know that a man is unworthy to eat & drink of my flesh & blood ye shall forbid him [orthodoxy] nevertheless ye shall not cast him out from among you but ye shall minister unto him & shall pray for him unto the Father in my name & if it so be that he repenteth & is baptized in my name then shall ye receive him & shall minister unto him of my flesh & blood [harmony] but if he repenteth not he shall not be numbered among my people that he may not destroy my people For behold I know my Sheep & they are numbered [orthodoxy] nevertheless ye shall not cast him out of your Synagogues or your places of worship [harmony] . . . And the church shall meet together oft for prayer & suplication casting out none from your places of worship but rather invite them to come [harmony] . . . And there shall be no pride nor envying nor strifes nor malice nor idoletry nor witchcrafts nor whoredoms nor fornications nor covetiousness nor lying nor deceits nor no manner of iniquity & if any one is guilty of any or the least of these & doth not repent & shew fruits meats for repentance they shall not be numbered among my people that they may not destroy my people [orthodoxy].[18]

These countervailing cautions notwithstanding, in their own imperfect attempts to strike a balance the early saints seemed to prefer a closed communion rooted in orthodoxy to an open community focused on harmony. To those familiar with 3 Nephi, this came as a surprise. As John Whitmer observed, “In the beginning of the church, while yet in her infancy, the disciples used to exclude unbelievers, which caused some to marvel, and converse about this matter because of the things that were written in the Book of Mormon.”[19] (Based on how such issues were discussed within the Book of Mormon, one wonders how much disputing and contending accompanied this marveling and conversing!) In response, the Lord revealed what now appears as Doctrine and Covenants 46, which gives additional canonical shape to the balancing act illustrated in 3 Nephi 18 and in Cowdery’s Church Articles.

In the revelation, the Lord allows the elders to “conduct all meetings as they are directed and guided by the Holy Spirit” (Doctrine and Covenants 46:2) but then clarifies a position he would not want a mistaken impression to overturn, complete with the counterbalancing conjunctive adverbs we saw in 3 Nephi18: “Nevertheless ye are commanded never to cast any one out from your public meetings, which are held before the world. Ye are also commanded not to cast any one who belongeth to the church out of your sacrament meetings [harmony]; nevertheless, if any have trespassed, let him not partake until he makes reconciliation [orthodoxy]” (verses 2–4; emphasis added). Here again we see the Lord combining a harmonious openness to outsiders (and even unworthy insiders) with an orthodox affirmation of standards of worthiness.

Further commandments to “not cast any out” of the Church’s sacrament meetings and confirmation meetings appear in the next two verses, after which the revelation shifts to its more recognized focus on the gifts of the Spirit. But even that discussion should be viewed in light of the Lord’s effort to balance order (orthodoxy) and openness (harmony). On the one hand, orthodoxy discerns the “diversities of operations” (verse 16) and demands that true spiritual gifts be distinguished from “evil spirits, or doctrines of devils, or the commandments of men” (verse 7). But on the other hand, harmony honors the reality that “to every man”—including the curious onlookers, unworthy adherents, and earnest investigators mentioned at the beginning of the revelation—“is given a gift by the Spirit of God” (verse 11). No wonder “Visitors Welcome” signs grace the outside of our chapels. In the spirit of Doctrine and Covenants 46, it is a recognition that visitors of all kinds have spiritual gifts to offer those more orthodox members assembled inside. Still, in the spirit of 3 Nephi 18 and Moroni 6, that harmony within the chapel is meant to help true disciples minister to those who have entered that open door, preparing them to enter other doors that do not open quite so unconditionally. A different message graces the outside of our temples, and it is to these temple signs that those chapel signs are pointing and preparing: from the harmony of “Visitors Welcome” toward the orthodoxy of “Holiness to the Lord.”

The Way toward Balance

From discussions of personal worthiness to matters of Church discipline, what texts like 3 Nephi 18 and Doctrine and Covenants 46 are striving to balance is the sanctity of the sacraments and the worth of souls. The first honors orthodoxy and the second prizes harmony, but both are “great in the sight of God” (Doctrine and Covenants 18:10). The same God who “cannot look upon sin with the least degree of allowance” made the ultimate allowance in the gift of his Only Begotten Son, making it possible for that stern warning against sin to be balanced by the merciful promise that immediately follows: “Nevertheless, he that repents and does the commandments of the Lord shall be forgiven” (Doctrine and Covenants 1:31–32; emphasis added). Seen in this light, our efforts to balance orthodoxy and harmony, which we pursue imperfectly, are reflective of the Lord’s balance of justice and mercy, which he achieves perfectly.

Our challenge is to move in the direction of the Lord’s perfect balance, to follow his “way” of honoring both the orthodox “truth” and the harmonious “life.” This is the type of balance he exemplified in his interactions with the woman taken in adultery (see John 8:1–11), in which he neither condoned sin (orthodoxy) nor condemned the sinner (harmony) but instead allowed law and love to remain in active tension as he “let patience have her perfect work” (James 1:4). Granted that time and given that trust, “the woman glorified God from that hour, and believed on his name” (Joseph Smith Translation, John 8:11). She arrived at orthodoxy, that is, because harmony allowed and enabled it.

This is the same type of balance the Lord was commending in his interactions with the Nephite disciples during their three rounds of contentious disputation (and, in a similar way, the same balance the “voice of the Lord” recommended to Alma as he was pondering the role of discipline within the church [see Mosiah 26:14, 28–32]). With balance being the principal objective, it seems fitting that Christ would include the warning against declaring “more or less” than what he had established as his doctrine. He did this explicitly in his discussion of the doctrine of Christ as well as in his explanation of the sacrament (see 3 Nephi 11:40; 18:13), and it would have been equally appropriate in his clarification of the name of the church. By forbidding “more or less” Jesus is drawing his disciples away from extremes at either end of the spectrum, keeping orthodoxy from becoming a dogmatism that damns all who disagree (the “more”), and keeping harmony from becoming a relativism that eliminates even the possibility of absolute truth (the “less”). Thus, a safe center is established, a “Goldilocks Zone” where “too hot” and “too cold” are avoided in favor of a balanced, even a blended, middle ground.

Admittedly, this delicate balancing act makes the strait and narrow path seem more like a razor’s edge, and sometimes it is, especially when the tension we are striving to hold is between things of infinite worth, like souls and sacraments. G. K. Chesterton captured the challenge well when he said that some things are “only a matter of an inch; but an inch is everything when you are balancing.” What Chesterton was trying to balance were the rival orthodoxies at the heart of Christianity—its own set of “crosses,” each of which “has at its heart a collision and a contradiction,” like the two great commandments already discussed. Justice and mercy, agency and inspiration, mind and heart, individuality and community, male and female—the list is almost endless. As Chesterton wisely surmised, the key to navigating these paradoxes was not to hold to one at the expense of the other but somehow to hold onto both. In his eloquent description of the feat, “The Church could not afford to swerve a hair’s breadth on some things if she was to continue her great and daring experiment of the irregular equilibrium. Once let one idea become less powerful and some other idea would become too powerful. It was no flock of sheep the Christian shepherd was leading, but a herd of bulls and tigers, of terrible ideals and devouring doctrines, each one of them strong enough to turn to a false religion and lay waste the world.”[20]

Such was the flock that the Good Shepherd tended. He kept orthodoxy’s lion from devouring harmony’s lamb but also kept the lamb from enfeebling the lion. Jesus, himself both lamb of God and lion of the tribe of Judah, understood that both were but halves of one great whole and prized equally the truth he taught and the souls to whom he taught it. More importantly, his teachings and example provide his disciples—past and present—with the model to follow.

Conclusion

In a statement that fires the imagination, Joseph Smith observed, “By proving contraries, truth is made manifest.”[21] At the time, he may simply have been encouraging the exploration of differing viewpoints (itself a healthy exercise in harmony seeking orthodoxy), but his words are suggestive of deeper realities. They hint at the “collisions and contradictions” that Chesterton saw in the cross; they evoke what Emerson called the “balanced antagonisms” by which “the world stands.”[22] These “contraries,” paradoxes, or “positive polarities,” as we might call them, require the coexistence and cooperation of elements—both desirable—that may seem mutually exclusive, but end up being mutually beneficial instead. The contradictory become complementary as they fuse into what Chesterton called “some more startling synthesis.”[23]

This study has wrestled with one such contrary, that of orthodoxy and harmony, or in the words of President Benson’s desk plaque, the need to “be right” and to “be easy to live with.” The plaque wondered if such a fusion of attributes was possible, but as we have seen, Christ’s teachings attest that we must achieve this balance, just as his example confirms that we can. This is the “convicted civility” of evangelical leader Richard Mouw[24] and the “Christian courage” of Elder Robert D. Hales.[25] It is the “love and law” and the “truth and tolerance” of President Dallin H. Oaks,[26] or the “speaking the truth in love” of the apostle Paul (Ephesians 4:15). It is what Hans Frei described as a “generous orthodoxy,”[27] what a group of Latter-day Saint scholars labeled a “radical orthodoxy,”[28] and what this paper has portrayed as a harmonious orthodoxy-in-the-making.

What would Jesus call it? Discipleship. And he exemplified it in both its vertical and horizontal dimensions: its upward reach and its outward grasp, its valiant conviction and heartfelt compassion, its relentless pursuit of truth and its patience in letting others arrive there. For this reason he condemned contention in pursuit of consensus and instead recommended harmony in pursuit of orthodoxy.

That these elements can and must coexist has been the argument of this paper, but its deeper contention (offered as noncontentiously as possible!) is that when proving contraries, order does matter. Balancing ostensible opposites is difficult, and errors will unavoidably be made. But this begs the question: on which side should we err? The common refrain is to “err on the side of mercy,” and this contrary seems to lend credence to that choice. However, as we have wrestled with the difference between order of importance and order of implementation, a more nuanced expression is better: err on whichever side best allows for ongoing adjustments, the determination of which will always be situation specific and therefore must always be Spirit directed.[29] Put simply, in choosing between opposite goods, the goal is to choose both, by starting with the one most likely to draw in the other.

Ultimately it is Christ’s orthodoxy that will prevail, as every knee bows and every tongue confesses that he is the Christ (see Philippians 2:10–11). But it is his charity—the highest form of harmony—that will draw us there, a charity that “suffereth long” (1 Corinthians 13:4) as the process slowly unfolds. This was the central message of President Russell M. Nelson’s general conference address in April 2023, in which he defended orthodoxy but denounced any kind of contention in its pursuit. “As disciples of Jesus Christ,” he explained, “we are to be examples of how to interact with others—especially when we have differences of opinion.” We are to “build, lift, encourage, persuade, and inspire—no matter how difficult the situation.” In short, we are to be peacemakers, even as we stand valiantly for the doctrines of the Prince of Peace.[30] Harmony is our best hope to progress toward orthodoxy as a society. It invites patience, empathy, understanding, and humility, and ensures that consensus will be reached in the Savior’s way.[31] That way is truth at its clearest and life at its kindest, and it centers on him. “Therefore, what manner of men ought ye to be?” Especially when striving to balance orthodoxy and harmony, the Lord’s answer is clear: “Verily I say unto you, even as I am” (3 Nephi 27:27).

Notes

[1] Boyd K. Packer, “We Honor Now His Journey,” Ensign, July 1994, 32; see also Ezra Taft Benson, “In His Steps,” devotional address at Brigham Young University, March 4, 1979.

[2] Orthodoxy is “authorized or generally accepted theory, doctrine, or practice.” Merriam-Webster’s Online Dictionary, s.v. “orthodoxy.”

[3] Abraham Lincoln, First Inaugural Address, March 4, 1861 (emphasis added); available online at https://avalon.law.yale.edu/19th_century/lincoln1.asp.

[4] Dallin H. Oaks, “Going Forward with Religious Freedom and Nondiscrimination,” 2021 Joseph Smith Lecture at the University of Virginia, November 12, 2021.

[5] On social contract theory, see Christopher W. Morris, ed., The Social Contract Theorists: Critical Essays on Hobbes, Locke, and Rousseau (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 1999).

[6] On social contact theory, see, for example, Loris Vezzali and Sofia Stathi, eds., Intergroup Contact Theory: Recent Developments and Future Directions (London: Routledge, 2017).

[7] Robert D. Putnam and David E. Campbell, American Grace: How Religion Divides and Unites Us (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2010), 4–6, 516–50.

[8] Putnam and Campbell, American Grace, 53–68.

[9] For a fascinating discussion of what these disputations may have entailed, see Joseph M. Spencer, An Other Testament: On Typology, 2nd ed. (Provo, UT: Neal A. Maxwell Institute for Religious Scholarship, 2016), 106–9.

[10] D. Todd Christofferson, “The First Commandment First,” BYU devotional address, March 22, 2022, https://speeches.byu.edu/talks/d-todd-christofferson/the-first-commandment-first/.

[11] See Russell M. Nelson, “The Name of the Church,” official statement, August 16, 2018, https://newsroom.churchofjesuschrist.org/article/name-of-the-church; “The Correct Name of the Church,” Ensign, November 2018, 87–89.

[12] Nelson, “The Correct Name of the Church,” 87.

[13] Jana Riess, “Oh, now I get it: Purging the word ‘Mormon’ is a bid for the mainstream,” Religion News Service, July 14, 2022, https://religionnews.com/2022/07/14/oh-now-i-get-it-purging-the-word-mormon-is-a-bid-for-the-mainstream/.

[14] Nelson, “The Correct Name of the Church,” 89.

[15] On Moroni’s reliance on Christ’s teachings in 3 Nephi 18, see John W. Welch, “From Presence to Practice: Jesus, the Sacrament Prayers, the Priesthood, and Church Discipline in 3 Nephi 18 and Moroni 2–6,” Journal of Book of Mormon Studies 5, no. 1 (1996): 119–39.

[16] Alexander Campbell, Christian Baptism: with its Antecedents and Consequents (Bethany, VA: Alexander Campbell, 1852).

[17] See Edmund S. Morgan, Visible Saints: The History of a Puritan Idea (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1963).

[18] Appendix 3: “Articles of the Church of Christ, June 1829,” pp. [1–2], The Joseph Smith Papers.

[19] John Whitmer, “History, 1831–circa 1847,” p. 23, The Joseph Smith Papers, https://www.josephsmithpapers.org/paper-summary/john-whitmer-history-1831-circa-1847/27.

[20] G. K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy (New York: John Lane, 1908; reprint, 1914), 184, 50.

[21] Joseph Smith, History of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1980): 6:428; “Letter to Israel Daniel Rupp, 5 June 1844,” p. [1], The Joseph Smith Papers.

[22] Ralph Waldo Emerson, “The Natural History of Intellect,” in The Complete Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson, vol. 12 (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1904), 53.

[23] Chesterton, Orthodoxy, 272.

[24] Richard J. Mouw, Uncommon Decency: Christian Civility in an Uncivil World, rev. ed. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2010), 11.

[25] Robert D. Hales, “Christian Courage: The Price of Discipleship,” Ensign, November 2008, 72–75.

[26] Dallin H. Oaks, “Love and Law,” Ensign, November 2009, 26–29; “Truth and Tolerance,” Church Educational System devotional address, September 11, 2011.

[27] See Jason A. Springs, Toward a Generous Orthodoxy: Prospects for Hans Frei’s Postliberal Theology (New York: Oxford University Press, 2010).

[28] See https://latterdayorthodoxy.org/.

[29] In terms of the contrary we have been investigating in this paper, erring on the side of harmony would mean postponing orthodoxy (or at least its enforcement on others) in the short term if it threatens to obliterate harmony in the long term. An example of this might be parenting a wayward child (the father of the prodigal son surrenders orthodoxy to harmoniously honor the agency of his son, who eventually returns). Erring on the side of orthodoxy, meanwhile, would mean surrendering harmony in the short term if the results of unorthodoxy might prove irrecoverable in the long term. An example of this would be when someone threatens physical or spiritual suicide, in which case erring on the side of harmony/agency/mercy might prove fatal. Returning to the example of Abraham Lincoln, whom we quoted earlier, this was essentially the choice he made in refusing to allow the Confederacy to secede from the United States.

[30] Russell M. Nelson, “Peacemakers Needed,” April 2023 general conference address; President Nelson’s entire talk is a powerful example of the kind of harmony in pursuit of orthodoxy this paper attempts to describe.

[31] See Doctrine and Covenants 121:41–46 and 107:27–31.