Bound To Christ, Not The World

As members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, our eternal trajectory hinges on one unshakable truth: Jesus Christ must be at the center—uncompromised, undiluted, and undistracted. That’s not just a spiritual suggestion, it’s the blueprint for discipleship. 

We live in a time when the marketplace of ideas has turned into a carnival. Every aisle is brimming with charismatic influencers, moral slogans, and “movements” that promise everything from inner peace to global utopia. And sure, some of it sounds pretty good. Stirring, even. But the danger isn’t always in what’s loud and aggressive but in what sounds almost true. Close enough to nod along with, but far enough to nudge us off course. 

The Savior didn’t leave this unaddressed. He was remarkably clear when He said, “No man can serve two masters.” (Matthew 6:24) It’s simple, piercing, and profoundly inconvenient to our modern sensibilities. Because, whether we realize it or not, every competing voice demands a form of discipleship. And some of us are giving away our allegiance for the cost of a clever tweet or a moving TED talk. 

Today’s culture specializes in distraction. It’s full of philosophies polished like Apple products; sleek, persuasive, and often updated weekly. We’re bombarded with voices telling us how to live, what to think, and who to trust. And often, it’s easy to think, “That leader really speaks to me,” or “This movement really gets it.” Maybe it does. But here’s the thing, if that voice starts pulling you away from the gospel of Jesus Christ, it’s time to pull the plug. 

Satan, after all, isn’t stupid. He rarely storms the front gates with horns and pitchforks. He whispers. He packages half-truths in language that flatters our intellect, our compassion, even our sense of justice. But his goal is the same: displace the Savior as the primary voice in your life. 

And once our hearts start syncing with these temporary ideologies, we begin to split our loyalties. Suddenly, we're justifying inconsistencies, downplaying doctrine, and telling ourselves it’s possible to serve Christ while still pledging allegiance to whatever’s trending.  

Jesus gave us a model. He knew the noise of the world better than anyone, and yet He repeatedly withdrew from it. He sought solitude, communion with His Father, clarity above clamor. When He did speak publicly, it was measured, rooted, and unmoved by applause—or criticism. Whether facing conniving Pharisees or an angry crowd, He never adjusted the gospel to fit the moment. Truth didn’t bend to the times. The times bent around Truth. 

And so, the real question for us isn’t “What’s wrong with the world?” The real question is: What’s shaping me? Who gets the loudest voice in my soul? Whose values are determining my direction? 

President Nelson gives us a clarifying lens with his Identity Hierarchy. This isn’t just a neat framework—it’s a spiritual compass: 

We are children of God. 

Children of the covenant. 

Disciples of Jesus Christ. 

That’s not a slogan. That’s our Identity Hierarchy. That’s the order of spiritual operations. Everything else—your politics, your social causes, your favorite author or commentator—must fit beneath that divine triad. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t belong in your core identity. 

Now, this isn’t a call to disengage from the world or dismiss everyone who isn’t quoting 2 Nephi. We’re not looking to be cultural hermits. We can and should appreciate wisdom wherever it appears. But we must remain vigilant. Admiration is not discipleship. A cause is not a covenant. A leader is not the Lord. 

The gospel of Jesus Christ needs to be the foundation, not the accessory. And when it is, everything else gains proper perspective. Our political opinions calm down. Our outrage cools. Our faith becomes sharper—not because we’ve closed our minds, but because we’ve opened them to something higher. 

So, here’s the invitation: Audit your influences. Recalibrate your feed—literal and spiritual. Ask yourself, “Is this voice leading me closer to Christ or away from Him?” If it’s not pointing upward, it’s probably pulling sideways. 

In the end, standing with Christ is not a position of retreat but a position of strength. It’s clarity in chaos. It’s peace in noise. It’s one Master, one message, one path. 

And in a world spinning with contradictions, that kind of steady discipleship doesn’t just protect your soul—it turns you into a beacon for others lost in the whirlwind.