ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR FAULTS.
By Elder Orson F. Whitney in Millennial Star, 1882.
"He that humbleth himself shall be exaulted."—Jesus.
If there is one thing more than another in the character of a great man which challenges respect and admiration, and proves most conclusively his worthiness to the title, it is the readiness with which he acknowledges a fault, confesses an error, and manifests sincere repentance for wrong-doing. We would not be understood as affirming that none are great but those who evince this disposition, for that would be to the exclusion of many whose virtues well merit consideration and esteem; but we do feel confident in asserting that among the great they are the greatest, among the noble the noblest, and among the admired, most deserving of admiration.
Many people consider it an evidence of weakness to acknowledge a mistake or to own that they are ever in the wrong, and flatter themselves with the idea that they display true courage and heroic firmness by refusing to repent of an evil act, by declining to concede a personal imperfection, or persisting in a mistaken belief or practice after having been convinced of the error of their course. A more egregious blunder could scarcely be committed. The facts are exactly to the contrary. It is weakness which induces anyone, after having been persuaded of an error, to still cling to that error. It is not courage, it is cowardice, not firmness, but stubbornness, which prevents a person from acknowledging a fault, or repenting of an evil deed. The man of genuine courage is he who dares confess his follies and imperfections; the soul of strength and firmness, which everybody must honor and admire, is the one which forsakes and resists the allurements of evil, and stands up for the right in the face of every opposing power or influence.
Various opinions are entertained as to what constitutes greatness of character. With the ignorant masses it would be aristocratic rank, high official station, or the possession of unlimited wealth; with the more enlightened classes, military prowess or great intellectual achievements; but to the true Christian there is but one idea worthy to be accepted as a criterion of guidance in the carving out and formation of a perfect character. The noblest Being that ever walked the earth, could claim no worldly rank or aristocratic title; the mightest character the world has ever seen came neither to dazzle by intellectual brilliance nor to devastate with fire and sword; the wealthiest and greatest of all the sons of God had not bread to eat nor where to lay his aching head. He was one who preached purity of mind and lowliness of heart, and practiced what he preached with all consistency. He taught his followers that moral worth was superior to mental endowment; that humility, not haughtiness, was characteristic of nobility on high; that all who would be masters hereafter, must expect to be servants in this probation; that it was far more heroic to save than to slaughter mankind, and that the chief lesson of life was to learn to sacrifice earthly things in order to lay up treasures in heaven. He taught that repentance of sins must necessarily precede redemption therefrom, since it was impossible for sin to inherit His holy kingdom. He exhorted to beware of self-righteousness, and declared that the publican, who with bended head and humility of heart cried out, "God be merciful unto me a sinner," was more to be justified than the proud and boastful Pharisee, who, instead of confessing his sins and humbly suing for forgiveness, stood erect in self-righteous conceit, thanking the Lord that he had no sins, and congratulating himself that he was pure and holy in the eyes of that being whose voice calls all men to repentance, and declares that all who say they are without sin deceive themselves and the truth is not in them.
Two classes of Pharisees abound in modern society; those who actually imagine they are without fault, and those who, though conscious of defects, stubbornly refuse to acknowledge them. The former, enveloped in pious vanity and lulled into fancied security by the delusive hope that their souls are already "saved," sit down in the very midst of the fight, take off their armor and lay aside their weapons, as complacently as if the battle was already won; while the others, like the inmates of a beleaguered city, conscious of weakness and certain of eventual defeat, but wilfully preferring death and dishonor to the merciful alternative of an honorable surrender, entrench themselves behind the weak walls of arrogance and pride, and await the onslaught of the all-conquering foe. Poor dupes of priestcraft and iniquity! The blind worshipper of self, however rapt in the ecstasies of sanctified egotism, will find too late that the warfare against sin ends only with life itself, and that "hopes of salvation," without truth for a basis and reason for a guide, are as ineffectual as faith without works or zeal without judgment. As for those who knowingly wed themselves to error, loving darkness rather than light, and choosing the paths of sin to the ways of righteousness, the day of their disaster is near. The battering rams of eternal truth will soon be leveled at their crumbling walls, the refuge of lies will be swept away, and the acts of folly and wickedness they were once ashamed to confess, proclaimed in a voice of thunder from the house tops. It is a great mistake to suppose anything is to be lost by acknowledging sin, and covenanting to forsake it forever. On the contrary, everything is to be gained. God has declared that he cannot look upon sin with the least degree of allowance. How then can a man please God if he will not repent of his sins? How can he repent if he will not acknowledge that he has sins? And how can he claim that he has no sins without branding himself as a liar and consequently as a sinner in the sight of heaven?
It is the act of a hero to acknowledge an error. It is the act of a coward to deny or resent a righteous accusation. Herod was a coward when he imprisoned and beheaded John the Baptist for reprimanding him for committing the crime of adultery. David was never more a hero than when, on being accused of a similar misdeed, he humbly acknowledged his transgression. The contrast is sublime. Herod, the petty tetrarch, with the instincts of a guilty coward, resenting the imputation and wreaking vengeance upon his accuser; David, the illustrious monarch, with a thousand fold his power and prestige, bending from his throne before one of the meanest of his subjects, and humbly confessing the crime of which he was accused. David before Goliath was not so brave a man as David before Nathan the Prophet. Deprive him of one dark stain upon his life, and the royal son of Jesse stands out as one of the grandest characters in the history of the world. A king, wealthy and powerful, a warrior, mighty and renowned, a poet whose genius was the literary splendor of his age; but as a king he was never greater, as a warrior never mightier, as a poet never grander or more sublimely pathetic, than when he bowed his head and wept, exclaiming, "I have sinned against the Lord."