In rereading the New Testament two questions asked therein have given me pause for a good deal of thought.

The first was asked by the rich young man.  A well-known painting shows him conversing with the Savior, richly dressed, and looking contemplatively to the side while some poor people in the background look on.  This painting is very well done, and accurately portrays this encounter as depicted in Matthew 19:16-30.

Mark also recorded this incident.  (Mark 10:17-31).  If I was painting this event from Mark’s viewpoint I’d have to render it differently, for Mark says, “there came one running, and kneeled to him.”  The young man in Mark’s account was more eager and more humble and more believing than the young man in Matthew’s account.

He asked the Savior, “What shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?”  (Mark 10:17).

The Savior replied, “thou knowest the commandments, Do not commit adultery, Do not kill, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Defraud not, Honour thy father and mother,” (Mark 10:19) (and Matthew adds), “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.”  (Matt. 19:19).

“All these things have I kept from my youth up,” the young man answered—and now the question that I’ve pondered—“what lack I yet?”  (Matt. 19-20).

“Then Jesus beholding him loved him, and said unto him, One thing thou lackest:  go thy way, sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven:  and come…and follow me.”  (Mark 10:21).

I’ve wondered about that invitation.  Those are the same words that Jesus spoke to Peter and Andrew, and to James and John.  If the young man would have had the faith and the courage to do as Jesus told him, would his name today be listed with the other apostles?  Certainly his state would have been better.  He’d have had “treasure in heaven” and eternal life.

“What lack I yet?” is a question we should each ask ourselves.  What thing is standing in our way to keep us from inheriting eternal life?

The second question was asked by the Savior Himself.  Both Matthew and Mark recorded this in almost exactly the same words:  “For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?  (Matt. 16:26 and Mark 8:36-37).

I’ve run that through my mind again and again and again.  “What shall a man give in exchange for his soul?”  That’s odd wording.  Why did the Savior use the word “give?”  The way I understood the question, a man would thus “give” something in order to also “give” his soul.  He’d be giving twice, just to lose his soul.  If I had been asking that question I’d have phrased it thus:  “What shall a man take in exchange for his soul?”

It hit me yesterday on the way to the temple that there’s another way to understand that question.  What if the man wasn’t in possession of his own soul?  What if he had need of giving something before he could possess his own soul?  Looking at the question from that perspective, the exchange then becomes a true exchange.

What should a man give so that he can possess his own soul and have eternal life?  King Lamoni’s father had it right.  He offered to give up all that he possessed and to even forsake his kingdom (Alma 22:15), but nailed it when he said, “I will give away all my sins to know thee.”  (Alma 22:18).

“What shall a man give in exchange for his soul?”  “What lack I yet?”

I’ve held dozens of Church callings.  I was a bishop for over six years.  I served in a stake presidency for nine years.  But it wasn’t until I was preparing for an anticipated calling to be a temple ordinance worker that I finally found the key to controlling my thoughts.  I’ve looked good on the outside for many years, but how did I look to God?  Did I yet lack something?

While in Salt Lake City to attend the October 2009 General Conference I had a dream.  It was a dream that didn’t come from within me.  It was sent from God for my benefit.

In the dream I was standing in the common area outside the main offices and assembly room of the Boise Temple.  I was smartly dressed in my white shirt, jacket and tie.  I happened to look down and was horrified to find that I’d neglected to take off my muddy irrigation boots.  My white pant legs were neatly tucked into those filthy boots.

The Lord was teaching me that I could be the means of bringing filth into the temple.  On the outside I might look good to everyone else, but to God, who looks on the heart, I could be standing in the temple in muddy irrigation boots if my heart and mind harbor anger or hate or criticism or lust or unbelief.

What lack I yet? Or what shall I give in exchange for my soul?  Until I fully repent, my soul is not mine.  Until I give away all my sins, I’m standing in the temple with muddy irrigation boots.

“He that keepeth the commandment keepeth his own soul.”  (Proverbs 19:16).

“And now, my beloved brethren, I would that ye should come unto Christ, who is the Holy One of Israel, and partake of his salvation, and the power of his redemption.  Yea, come unto him, and offer your whole souls as an offering unto him, and continue in fasting and praying, and endure to the end; and as the Lord liveth ye will be saved.”  (Omni 1:26).