Analogy Challenge: Towels Part Two

A little more than a week ago, I wrote about an Analogy Challenge, where I relate random things to the gospel. At that time, I linked towels to repentance by saying that repentance won't help you if you're still committing sins, just as drying off with a towel won't help you if you're still the shower. But that's not really true. When you're deep in sin, repentance is the process that helps you get out of it. So, we're not perfect yet, we're still working on it, and we still make frequent mistakes. That's no reason not to repent. In fact, that's a reason why we should repent, and frequently! I told myself I'd think of a better analogy later, and now I have.

Towels don't make water disappear. They don't evaporate it, disintegrate it, or destroy it. They don't send it down the drain, blow it out of the room, or banish it to another dimension. In reality, when you dry off with a towel, the water stays much closer to you than you might expect. Towels don't get rid of water - they take it upon themselves.

Repentance doesn't make sins disappear. It can't. The laws of justice demand that when a sin is committed, someone needs to be punished. And Someone was. In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus took upon Himself our sins, just as a towel takes upon itself our wetness. Jesus was spiritually white and clean, just as towels are often thought of as being white and clean and dry, and actually, it was only because Christ was sinless that He was able to take upon Himself our sins, just as a towel can only absorb our moisture if it, itself, is dry.

When I think of the Savior in this light, I feel that I don't want to add any more weight to the His burden, and that's a good thought. But I sometimes think I can lighten His load by not repenting. I can keep a towel dry by not using it to dry off. All it means is that I will remain wet. But the truth of the matter is that Jesus Christ already paid the price for every sin I will ever commit, whether I repent of them or not. The question now is whether I'll use the Savior's sacrifice to become clean, as He would want me to, or whether I'll let my portion of His pain go to waste.

Once again, it's not a perfect analogy. The Savior had taken upon Himself our sins before we even committed them, so we became wet after the towel took on moisture to make us dry. And even after doing that, the towel is and always will be dry. Despite having taken our sins upon Himself, our Savior is sinless, and though we might have been kept out of heaven as a consequence of our sins, Jesus won't be shut out of heaven no matter what sins we lay at His feet.

But still, it's touching to think about a loving, selfless Savior taking upon Himself our sins so that we can be made clean. And as I mentioned above, when I think about the Savior's sacrifice for me, it makes me want to not add any more to my part of His burden. And the only way to do that is to refrain from committing sin. Even if I would ever give up on my own soul, commit whatever sins I wanted to, and worry about the idea of Hell when I got there, I can't, because that would put that much more weight of the shoulders of the Savior I'd be rejecting. I can't think of the Savior making that loving, selfless sacrifice for me, and then not only reject His sacrifice, but add more weight to it. I need to avoid committing sin, if not for my sake, then at least for His.

I used to not like to sing the Hymn "I Stand All Amazed," because the chorus goes "Oh, it is wonderful that He should care for me enough to die for me," and at the time, I didn't think it was wonderful. I thought it was terrible that he had to die for me. I thought that I'd rather suffer justly for my own sins than let Him suffer for them for me. But I can't. Well, I can, if I really want to, but it won't ease His burden at all. He already paid the price for all the sins I would ever commit. All I can do now is try not to add more to His burden in the future, and to make use of the loving sacrifice He made for us. Now, I feel that it is amazing the He would love us enough to pay that price for us. I'm still not sure if "wonderful" is quite the right word for it, but I am truly grateful and awestruck when I think about how much He must love us, and that truly is wonderful.

So, the next time I use a towel to dry myself off, I'm going to say a quick prayer of thanks to the one who took my sins upon Himself to make me clean, and pledge not to get myself dirty any more than I can't help getting. I'll still be human as long as I live. I'll still keep making mistakes and getting myself wet. But I have a towel for times like those, and I'm very, deeply grateful for that.