Editor's note: The next issue of the BYU Studies journal has articles about Carthage Jail, Joseph Smith, and an early version of the D&C to compliment your study of the Doctrine and Covenants. Subscribe today to get the issue.

A recurring motif in Joseph Smith's discourse is the principle of calling and election. “There is some grand secret here,” Joseph said, and he wanted to reveal “the secret and grand key” that would unlock “the most glorious principle of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.” ¹ In my mind, whatever principle Joseph Smith called “most glorious” is a principle that beckons an eager investigation.

When I was growing up, perhaps because the concept was so rarely explained in the public arena, “calling and election made sure” ² (God's irrevocable promise of exaltation given in this life) conjured up the image of old men, bowed in years and in the last stages of life, finally given the guarantee that they would inherit eternal life, and that, too, only after years of astonishing faithfulness amid harrowing disconsolation, peril, and shadow.

My personal microcosm of experience in this regard could translate into an engaging cultural study. I was born at a time when the idea of a “calling and election” was almost never public fare. For instance, 1977 was the last time the phrase “calling and election made sure” harvested a few paragraphs of explanation in a general conference address. ³ I think I was still learning to speak coherent sentences in 1977, so I knew little about it.

My elders were not much better off. I remember the sundry social gatherings of my youth where the subject of calling and election came up, usually in the form of bewildered conversation. They talked like it was a mystery that pertained to another time and another people, a gift given to distant, seeric oracles to whom we could not relate.

There was the time after class when two seminary teachers bandied around the idea that the apostolic calling was also by its nature an automatic promise of eternal life; the inference to my young mind was that only people like apostles secured in this life their destiny of exaltation.

Once when I asked an older and much-venerated uncle about how this sure promise was administered, he concluded that it was a rarity that came only by a personal appearance of the Savior himself. Which left me wondering: why is the doctrine often called the Holy Spirit of Promise, or the more sure word of prophecy , if the Spirit was not the messenger?

“Grand Secrets”

Sometime during my years as a seminary student, I finally concluded that such a promise must only come to those who had reached a state of glorious near-perfection. It was reserved for those rare few who reached great heights of prophetic stature unknown to the rest of us. I wondered why Joseph made public a doctrine that was designed to infuse this bright hope in only a select few, while the multitude was left to fear and tremble until the day of reckoning. Such musings left a small corner of my religious understanding in a sort of atmospheric melancholy.

Imagine my delight when I found that Church history was contrary to all my doctrinal conclusions. Doctrine alone does not move or breathe, but religious history is doctrine experienced — it breathes to the lilt and cadence of authentic life. A stuffy study of sacrifice in the Old Testament hardly stirred my childhood imagination like hearing the law of sacrifice infused with life and verve, as in Great-Great-Grandpa nearly dying of hunger and disease and cold crossing the plains so he could live his religion with his family untormented in the great Rocky Mountains.

In this kind of history, doctrine and theology are tested in the lab of someone's personal epic; to me, this is the greatest lure of sacred history.

Besides, if theology is studied only, and not experienced, we will always get it wrong. The Bible became a lump of clay in the hands of religious creatives, with ample linguistic vagarities to mold a thousand different creedal religions. In contrast, I have enjoyed a notable unity with my fellow Saints in doctrinal belief despite having no creeds or systematic theology in the traditional sense. This unity exists partly because our rich history shoots theology through the prism of real life, scattering clear and salient colors that enlighten our vision.

True, sermons given in the nineteenth century on aging paper are where Joseph's “grand secrets” pertaining to calling and election are first discovered in concept. But even grander secrets are to be discovered in how the concept played out in the immediate lives of flesh-and-blood people. Hopefully my few thoughts in this essay will show that the “calling and election made sure” fulfills a more expedient and satisfying purpose — it was not intended to be only a capstone to a life of faithfulness; nor is it a final prize to be given out after the race of life is already won.

Early Incidents

Heber C. Kimball's calling and election was made sure on April 6, 1839, in Far West , Missouri , though it came under the strains of heaviness:

Amid these benighted times when the cries of the persecuted were still fresh in his mind, Heber found consolation in a spiritual experience that seared through the deep shadows as a welcome fiery Shekinah:

The revelation itself is interesting, but the early circumstance in which it was received is even more intriguing. Heber C. Kimball was age thirty-seven when he received this knowledge; half of his life was still ahead of him. He received this revelation before he had proven his stature as a missionary in England; he receive it before he had been fully endowed in the Nauvoo Temple; he received it before he had been sealed to his wife for time and eternity; he receive it when he had been a member of the Church for only seven years. ⁵

No choir of trumpets ornamented his revelation, no lightning-bright epiphany adorned the scene to enchant his soul with wonderment and awe. Instead, the simple recipe was the still small voice, a generous dash of the spirit of prophecy, a pen and ink and paper, and a kneecap to write it on.

On May 16, 1843, Joseph Smith, William Clayton, and company were traveling through Carthage and stopped for the night at the farm of Benjamin F. Johnson in Ramus, Illinois . That evening Joseph instructed the group in detail on the principle of eternal marriage. As Benjamin and his wife listened, the air lavish with the sweet words of life, Joseph put his hand on the knee of William Clayton and promised him:

William Clayton was twenty-eight years old when Joseph avowed to him the irrevocable promise of eternal life. He had been a member of the Church for a little more than five years. ⁷ Though Joseph spoke of William taking “the step necessary,” it would be another two months before he would be sealed to his wife — yet he was given the promise anyway. ⁸

We can go back to even fresher times, when virtually every member of the Church was but a stripling in age and but babes in the cradle of a new religion. On June 9, 1830, the newly restored Church held its first conference. About thirty members attended. After singing and prayer, many began to prophesy, when several had the visions of heaven unveiled to them.

So overcome were these visionaries that it was necessary to finds beds or some location to safely lay them down. One of these, Newel Knight, could not understand why his fellow Saints were making such a fuss to lay him on a bed; his spirit was soaring so high that he did not notice that his body was helpless. As they lay him down, a vision burst upon his view.

“He saw heaven opened, and beheld the Lord Jesus Christ, seated at the right hand of the majesty on high,” recounts Joseph Smith, “and had it made plain to his understanding that the time would come when he would be admitted into His presence to enjoy His society for ever and ever.” ⁹ When this vision of his own eternal reward was given, Newel Knight was thirty years old, had been a member of the Church for only a few weeks, and, if ordained at all, he had held the priesthood for only a matter of minutes. ¹⁰

Good, Plain Folk

The Colesville Branch of the Church, having lived in the relative civility of New York and Ohio, followed the call to resettle on the frontier in Jackson County, Missouri. At first, the branch had neither tents nor implements to farm with. They had little to eat but some beef and cornmeal made by rubbing ears of corn against an old tin grater. ¹¹ Yet when the Prophet visited them, he found them in a lively mood. Amid what for lesser people would have been a plight of abject misery, the Colesville Branch welcomed their Prophet as had those that once shouted Hosanna at Christ's triumphal entry into Jerusalem ; they rejoiced as the ancient Saints had when Paul returned from his long dispersion.

Joseph, overcome with their greatness of soul and generosity of heart, gathered them together and did something that caused a considerable stir among those that witnessed it — he sealed up the branch, all present, to Eternal Life. ¹³

Though it cannot be known if every member was present to be “sealed up,” in naming a few of the sixty-eight souls in the Colesville Branch, it is clear that these were just good, plain folk. No matter how you argue it, Ezekial and Electa Peck are not exactly household names, nor is Freeborn Demille, Hortensia Rogers, Orientia and Anna Badger, or the Joseph Knight Sr. family. ¹⁴ They never did anything earth shattering for history to remember, nor ascended to hold positions of honor in the Church. They were just homey stalk with hearts in the right place.

Why were all these striplings given the promise? Why with so little experience were they promised the greatest of all gifts? Surely it speaks to God's unsurpassed magnanimity, but there seems to be a greater “secret or grand key” here.

A Four-Word Secret

In my mind, four words divulge the secret: Spiritual blessing are timely. That's it. That's the key. Imagine the absurdity of being given the sword of valor only after you slay the dragon, or being received into a house of refuge only after the storm is passed. Instead, the promise has a more timely purpose:

“Having this promise [of Eternal Life] sealed unto them,” spoke Joseph, “it was an anchor to the soul, sure and steadfast. Though the thunders might roll and lightnings flash, and earthquakes bellow, and war gather thick around, yet this hope and knowledge would support the soul in every hour of trial, trouble and tribulation.” ¹⁵

I see a clear chronology to Joseph's statement: first, the promise is given to make the receiver strong, and then the thunders roll. My instinct tells me that this is why Heber C. Kimball and many others were given the promise so early in life: it was to shore up their courage for the coming storm and fury.

Today, I see peace severed from the earth. I see a maelstrom of perplexity and contradiction sinking the hopes of good people. Have we any less need for strength? Are we lesser Saints than those that went before? Even if we were, Joseph once insisted that the principal of calling and election ought to be taught in the proper place to all the Saints, “For God hath not revealed anything to Joseph, but what He will make known unto the Twelve, and even the least Saint may know all things as fast as he is able to bear them.” ¹⁶

Any historian can show you that the early Saints were prone to human frailty much as we are. Furthermore, my examples of Heber C. Kimball, William Clayton, and the Colesville Branch members did not and could not fulfill every ordinance of exaltation, but were promised exaltation anyway. Should not today's Saints, who actually can and have entered into every ordinance and who are likewise good but sometimes weak, be not equally privileged?

I suppose “calling and election” can be overemphasized. It is possible for a seeker to get so focused on the prize so as to forget pure religion. Obviously, to neglect the poor and downtrodden because we are holed up in our rooms dreaming of heaven is a sure way to lose the prize. If the doctrine is not to be sounded everywhere with a trumpet's crescendo, with echoes rolling around the mountains and finally filling the earth's stratospheric expanse, so be it; but that should not preclude a lowly Saint from quietly seeking after it.

Joseph beckons likewise: “Oh! I beseech you to go forward, go forward and make your calling and your election sure.” “I would exhort you to go on and continue to call upon God until you make your calling and election sure for yourselves, by obtaining this more sure word of prophecy, and wait patiently for the promise until you obtain it.” ¹⁷

Groping in the Dark

If we were caught up to a high mountain, and if a panoramic vision were opened to ours minds, I wonder if this is what we would see: Down below, Saints on earth are entering into every ordinance of the temple that has been made available to them, and then they go forward, despite their weakness, pressing onward in faith for several years. A kindly, wise, and generous Father, looking down from the heavens, yearns for the opportunity to bestow a singular spiritual blessing on these faithful: the promise of eternal life.

He can already see the joyful day in heaven when a vast multitude of august men are crowned with honor, and a great assembly of noble women have placed upon their brows the jeweled tiaras of exaltation. Being able to see that great day of salvation, and having great love, the Father wishes to tell his little ones on earth about it now. But his children below, groping in the dark, do not feel after this precious gift because they do not understand, or they simply do not ask. They never attune themselves to that infinite conduit, never step into that shaft of light that can transport them to higher vistas of power and spiritual perspective.

We see them struggling forward, but a few faint with sorrow along the way. As the vision closes, the Father, with a paternal interest, weeps for those who might have known that bright hope and singular optimism that can come with his more sure word of promise.

Imagine the peace of mind that would come if we already knew that God had signed our names in the Book of Life. No surprises at Judgment Day, no sudden and everlasting thrusting down to the dark abyss. B eing able to almost taste salvation, we might become much more light-hearted, jovial, and resilient in the face of trials and sorrows that must come but now seem so trifling in the eternal scheme of things. We could be ablaze with confidence, having internalized the words of Peter which say, “M ake your calling and election sure: for if ye do these things, ye shall never fall” (2 Peter 1:10).

Above all, being unshackled with worries over personal salvation, we would feel free and wholly available to give ourselves to the salvation of others. In other words, we will have made a cosmic leap forward in being more like God, who is not too worried about himself but whose whole glory rests upon bringing “to pass the immortality and eternal life of man” (Moses 1:39).

My early experiences taught me to be tentative in believing that the promise was very real or very attainable today. Church history refutes these old notions. So let our inward skeptic throw off the burdens of provincial culture and understanding. Let even youthful souls, as did the youth in Joseph's day, establish “calling and election made sure” as something, in sacred moments, to speak of, rejoice in, and seek after.

The next issue of the BYU Studies journal has articles about Carthage Jail, Joseph Smith, and an early version of the D&C to compliment your study of the Doctrine and Covenants. Subscribe today to get the issue.

1. Joseph Fielding Smith, comp., Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1972), 298.

2. “Calling and election made sure,” or the “more sure word of prophecy” is the irrevocable promise of exaltation given to an individual in this life. “The more sure word of prophecy means a man knowing that he is sealed up unto eternal life” (D&C 131:5). When a man or woman are sealed up to eternal life “by the Holy Spirit of Promise” nothing can deny them the promised blessing, accept in the unlikely scenario wherein they reject Christ altogether and “commit murder” wherein they “shed innocent blood, and assent [or agree] to my death” (D&C 130:26–27).

3. Bruce R. McConkie, “The Ten Blessings of the Priesthood” Ensign 7 (November 1977): 34.

4. Orson F. Whitney, Life of Heber C. Kimball, (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1945) 241.

5. Whitney, Life of Heber C. Kimball, 22.

6. Joseph Smith Jr., History of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, ed. B. H. Roberts, 2d ed., rev., 7 vols. (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1971), 5:391 (hereafter cited as History of the Church ).

7. James B. Allen, No Toil Nor Labor Fear: The Story of William Clayton (Provo, Utah: BYU Press, 2002), 7.

8. Allen, No Toil Nor Labor Fear, 129–30.

9. History of the Church, 1:85.

10. There is no record in the minutes of this conference that he was ordained, but the minutes of a conference taking place three and a half months later show that he was ordained a priest in the Aaronic Priesthood. Donald Q. Cannon and Lyndon W. Cook, eds., Far West Record: Minutes of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1830–1844 (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1983), 3.

11. Larry C. Porter, “The Colesville Branch in Kaw Township, Jackson County, Missouri, 1831 to 1833,” in Regional Studies in Latter-day Saint Church History: Missouri, ed. Arnold K. Garr and Clark V. Johnson (Provo, Utah: Department of Church History and Doctrine, 1997), 292.

12. Joseph describes his joy thus at meeting with the Colesville Branch in History of the Church, 1:269.

13. Dean Jessee, “Joseph Knight's Recollection of Early Mormon History,” BYU Studies 17, no. 1 (1976): 39.

14. Larry C. Porter, “'Ye Shall Go to the Ohio': Exodus of the New York Saints to Ohio, 1831,” Regional Studies in Latter-day Saint Church History: Ohio , ed. Milton V. Backman Jr. (Provo, Utah: Department of Church History and Doctrine, 1990), 7.

15. History of The Church, 5:401.

16. History of the Church, 3:379.

17. History of the Church, 6:365; 5:388–89.

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