Happy New
Year to all!! Almost one year ago, to the date, Beto and I drove through the
snow to the U.S. immigration office in Salt Lake City to begin investigating what
paperwork would be needed if Beto and I were to live in the U.S. After that, we
were sent to the Mexican embassy to figure out how the same process works in
Mexico. And thus began the adventure!
Throughout
the months leading up to our wedding, I made many a visit to the Mexican
embassy (even more than I would have liked, actually, since the embassy does
NOT answer their telephone . . . EVER.) After jumping through one hoop after another,
checking and rechecking we had the right paperwork, rescheduling (and
re-planning) the wedding, and sitting through one short interview, I had my
visa. Then, after a little confusion at the airport (the customs official
didn't know what to do with a gringa entering Cancun whose paperwork said she
wasn't coming as a tourist! hehe), I was finally in Mexico. The customs
official informed me that I had 30 days to present myself at the Mexican
immigration office to finalize the visa paperwork.
Due to some
crazy circumstances, Beto and I were not able to make it into the immigration
office until Friday, October 25, three days before my time limit would be up.
Unfortunately, we did not have all the paperwork, nor the time, we needed to
officially submit my visa request that day and had to return on Monday (the
very last day before my temporary visa expired). On the upside, we were able to
turn in the paperwork on Monday. On the downside, in our rush to get everything
done, I accidentally put that my passport expires May 14, 2017, when really it
expires the day before. And, of course, I didn't catch the error. In fact, I
didn't know that I had made the error until two weeks later when I received a
letter from the immigration office informing me that my request for a temporary
residence visa had been rejected because of the mistake.
At our next
visit to the immigration office I confess that I did not try too hard to hide
my frustration from the immigration officials. The poor man at the front desk
(who really had no part in the whole situation) received the worst of my
grievances as I told him of the money and time spent, the inconveniences
suffered, and the countless trips made in the months-long process I had gone
through just to get the visa that had now been rejected because of one error of one date by one day! As
unfortunate as my situation was, however, the man would not budge and simply
continued to show me the list of new documents that would need to be obtained,
created, translated, sealed, presented, etc. in order to obtain a new visa.
My blood
froze when he came to the fees section. There was a sanction to be paid for
messing up the first visa; then there would be a fee for the new visa; and there
were the fees to seal and translate my birth certificate and our marriage
license; and on top of it all there were shipping fees! My mind went numb as I
began to add everything up and little tears began to leak out of my eyes as I
stared angrily at the government official behind the desk. Couldn't he have
just a little mercy on me? I mean, really?
I thought. All those documents and fees and the time and the travel and . . .
and . . . everything . . . for just one little error? It simply couldn't be.
Yet, as I
rode silently back home in shock that day, I began to recognize that things had to be that way. I could not ask
mercy of the law for the law does not know mercy, only justice. If I were to
ask the law for mercy—and it gave in to my wishes—it would no longer be law. Why?
As I so often taught my students in BYU's infamous class on the principles of
America's founding, the efficacy of law depends entirely on the clarity and
consistency of the law's implementation.
The philosopher
Michael Mullane explained it in a rather interesting, but simple, way. The rule
of law, he states, is like the "Tinkerbelle Effect"—which, as anyone
who has seen Peter Pan (or especially Hook) should know—if you say you do not
believe in fairies, somewhere in the world a fairy will die. The only way
fairies can exist is if people believe in them. According to Mullane, it is the
same with law: if we do not believe in the law, it has no significance and no
power. If, however, we do believe in
the laws that are instated, laws will become the backbone of an orderly and
industrious society.
So, how do
we go about believing or not believing in the law? First, if the law is not
consistently implemented, no one will ever expect it to be implemented and will
have little incentive to obey. Second, if no one obeys the law, it is as if the
law did not exist. Conversely, if a law is consistently implemented, there is
every incentive to obey said law because it is clear that the consequences are
real. In this way, as Mullane explains, the law is both "wonderfully
strong and terribly fragile.” They can empower and govern the universe if they
are believed, but if they are not believed . . . they are nothing.
So, I
realized, if I were to ask mercy of the immigration office (the law), I would essentially
be asking the law to be what it is not. The immigration law is this: if you make an error in your
documents, you must begin the process over again and pay the fees. Mercy would be forgiving the mistake and
giving me my visa without asking for any other payment or paperwork. Therefore,
in asking for mercy, I was basically requesting that the immigration law change
its very character and no longer be law, but rather mercy—and the immigration
office (the law/the Mexican government/whatever you want to call it) is not
mercy.
By now you
might be wondering where am I getting with all of this. Perhaps to give deeper
meaning to my frustrating situation, I began to see my little encounter with
the law as an allegory in the justice and mercy of God. In James 2:10 we read,
"For whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all." In my
case, I had done everything right up to the point when I wrote May 14, 2017 on
my paperwork. I had kept the whole law for months and months, and yet I
'offended' in one point and, in the final analysis, had my visa rejected. In
the eternal scheme of things, those who offend in one point (i.e. all of us)
face the consequence of sin: misery due to being cut off from the presence of
the Lord (Alma 42:11). One mistake. One teensy-weensy mistake and the law that
states that no unclean thing can dwell in the presence of God demands our
eternal damnation. Pretty tough.
Fortunately
for us, unlike governments, God can be both just and merciful. Why? Because
Heavenly Father is the most incredibly loving and all-knowing father and he
wants us back home. He saw "that all mankind were fallen, and they were in
the grasp of justice; yea, the justice of God, which consigned them forever to
be cut off from his presence. And now the plan of mercy could not be brought
about except an atonement should be made; therefore God himself atoneth for the
sins of the world to bring about the plan of mercy, to appease the demands of
justice, that God might be a perfect, just God, and a merciful God also"
(Alma 42:14-15).
So what
exactly does this mean? If my little visa situation could truly be compared to
the eternal plan of salvation, this is how it would look: I offend in one point
by putting a 14 instead of a 13 and Mexican law (justice) demands that I do the
whole process over again, including paying the fees and the additional sanction
for my mess-up. I look at the situation and wonder how I'm ever going to be
able to pay for my one mistake. The Savior steps in and pays the price in full.
In return, He asks me to complete all the required paperwork so I can learn to
do it right (perfectly, in fact, as He would). If I mess up again, He pays the
price again and I go back to trying to do it right. It doesn't matter how many
times I mess up, nor how big my mistakes are, the Savior will continue to pay
whatever the Mexican government (justice) asks for my errors. Pretty
incredible. What matters to the Savior is that I'm trying to get it right.
And so it is
with the eternal plan of our God: "all have sinned, and come short of the
glory of God" (Romans 3:23). Nevertheless, through His atonement, Christ
paid the price for our sins. In return, he asks us to repent and follow him. If
we mess up again, His atoning sacrifice continues to satisfy the demands of
justice. It doesn't matter how many times we mess up or how big our mistakes
might be, the Savior's atonement covers it. However, if we decide we no longer
want to repent and follow Him, we will be subject to the demands of justice
once again, for it is only by the power of the Savior that we can be saved. And
what matters to the Savior is that we are trying to get it right.
In a way, we
are all working on our immigration papers. Only, in this case, we are trying to
immigrate back to our heavenly home. We have been given this time on earth to
figure out how to "do the paperwork right" so that we may, when we
leave this world, obtain heavenly citizenship. It is most likely that, when we
arrive, we will be fully aware of all the mistakes we made along the way. That
is when, with eternal gratitude in our hearts, we will be greeted by "him
who is the advocate with the Father, who is pleading [our] cause before
him—Saying: Father behold the sufferings and death of him who did no sin, in
whom thou was well pleased; behold the blood of the 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" (D&C 45:3-5).
How grateful
I am for a Savior who has paid the price so that we may all obtain this
heavenly citizenship. May we all remember Him and continually strive to be like
as we begin this new year Him so that when—through Him—we obtain that heavenly
citizenship, we will know and feel that we have come home at last.
