What I love (and what sometimes
drives me crazy) about the gospel is how simple, and yet infinitely deep, it
is. In speaking about any topic, we could probably find it well summarized in a
sentence or two. In the Young Women pamphlet under Choice and Accountability, it clearly states, “I will choose good
over evil and will accept responsibility for my decisions.”[1]
While this is simple,
straightforward, and clear, what gets tricky is that simple is rarely the same
thing as easy, especially in the gospel.[2]
My favorite example of this is probably when Lehi explains the choice to us—we
are “free to choose liberty and eternal life…or…captivity and death.”[3]
I think we’d be hard pressed to find anyone who would openly declare his choice
to be captivity and death. And yet…
So, if I may, I am going to delve a
little deeper into the principles of choice and accountability, and discuss why
this principle is still kind of hard to live by; to do so, I have only my own
experience, but I trust that you will let the Spirit relay to you the
principles that are relevant to your own circumstances.
(As a disclaimer, I am more
theoretically- and abstractly-minded, which is probably going to shine through
here. So, more than following me completely, I hope that something I say will
spark an idea or thought in your mind that will then allow the Spirit to enter
in and teach you what is relevant for you.)
Choice
arises out of agency, which is “the power to think, choose, and act for
ourselves.”[4] In
order to even make a choice, though, we must be “enticed by the one or the
other.”[5]
As Lehi explains, there must be opposition. While the ultimate opposition is
between good and evil, choices also arise out of opposing ideas that are not
“opposites” in the strictest sense. For example, choosing a major isn’t
necessarily between art or science, but your choices oppose one another in the
sense that each appeals to you in a different way, and you cannot choose one
without excluding the others.
Sometimes this part, before I even
really get to the part of actually making
the choice, is the hardest, and where I get stuck the most. Sometimes I stay a
little longer than I know I should in the “valley of decision.”[6]
A lot of times, this happens because of fear, which appears in “divers ways and
means”[7]
that I think I ought not to go into here. I know sometimes I trick myself into
believing that in waiting, I can evade the accountability that is associated
with whatever choice I make—because choosing one means I am deliberately not choosing others. Sometimes this
means waiting so that ultimately, someone else will make the choice for me, or that eventually, by
circumstance, my options will be narrowed down to a pool of one; sometimes I
realize I want to be commanded in all
things.[8]
I think this is most obvious at the
cusp of commitment, and the more serious the decision, the more intense the
paralysis. I will spare you from relationship examples, though they are
plentiful, and stick with a simpler example. I am experiencing this currently
with my program—I am to select a topic which I will devote countless hours to
researching and writing about. Right now I have a few ideas in mind, but I
don’t know which idea paths will turn out to be duds, and which will be fruitful.
So probably the majority of the time when I complain about its being hard, the
hard is actually a result of my not being accountable for the fact that I am
exerting all of my energy to either stretch myself down all paths, or to stand
at the crossroads and choose nothing, rather than choosing one, accepting that
there are other paths I might have taken, and then proceed forward, without
regret.
The biggest problem in this
indecision (which I realized as I was writing this) is that God has no part in
it, beyond my wishing that He would just tell me what to do. Sharon G. Larsen
explained, “Sometimes we want freedom without consequences, to stay neutral,
undecided, uncommitted—it is in this atmosphere we become vulnerable to the
influence of Satan.”[9]
In these moments, I have forgotten or do not trust in God’s plan and am not
relying on the faith which He has previously granted me. If I am honest with
myself, I am subscribing to the belief that God has planned for only one way to
get through things, and if I make a mistake, Christ will not be there, with His
atoning sacrifice, to help me repair or to change. Now don’t get me wrong—there
are times and seasons for everything,[10]
including waiting[11];
even God, in His command to be not slothful, does not say that we do everything of our own free will, but many things.[12]
This is why it is crucial to do
things by the Spirit, for He will be the one to gently prod and ask, “How long
halt ye between two opinions?”[13]
when it is time to decide.
I have already taken up probably
half my time talking about this pre-choice stage, but I would like to spend
time talking about when we actually choose, as well. There are two, in
particular, which my thoughts keep coming back to (probably because they are
two of my favorite things to talk about). Again, they are pretty abstract
ideas, but I hope that you are paying attention more to the Spirit than the
construction of this talk.
Were I to boil down my own struggle
in choosing between liberty and eternal life and captivity and death, these are
the two things that, for me personally, are the hardest.
The first is love. I firmly believe
that love is a choice. I guess there is that part about falling in love, but that’s
not what I’m interested in (or qualified to) talk about. I think Marvin J.
Ashton summarized best what it means to choose to love. He states, “Perhaps the
greatest charity comes when we are kind to each other, when we don’t judge or
categorize someone else, when we simply give each other the benefit of the
doubt or remain quiet. Charity is accepting someone’s differences, weaknesses,
and shortcomings; having patience with someone who has let us down; or
resisting the impulse to become offended when someone doesn’t handle something
the way we might have hoped. Charity is refusing to take advantage of another’s
weakness and being willing to forgive someone who has hurt us. Charity is
expecting the best of each other.”[14]
I could talk about this for hours and hours, not because I am so capable of loving
like this, but because I want so much to be able to—to pick apart what it means
to be kind, how to stop judging, how to hope for someone to change and yet
still embrace the person they currently are. But I will save those thoughts for
another time, and summarize by saying that I think the principle of
accountability is an integral part of this choice to love—to love genuinely is
to love responsibly. Expecting the best of each other doesn’t mean a pat on the
back, a “good luck” for the future, and then we just move on our way. In love,
we are to bear one another’s burdens because we realize we are all headed to
the same place; we lift up the hands which hang down, even when it might be
inconvenient; we love, and we allow others to love us too.
I know that for the time being, we
are imperfect; I also know that many of you are much more innately loving than
I am, and so you might not have to face this choice as frequently as I do. But,
regardless of frequency, we will all have the choice to love presented to us, most
likely in small ways—when we are enticed by the one, to blame or to be
offended, to hold it against someone for hurting us, but also reminded to by
the other to forgive, whether by the light of Christ or by the Spirit—and we
must choose our response. I pray that we will have the strength to choose to
love. I know that these are the very acts that demonstrate to Heavenly Father
that we are choosing to yield to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, to put off
the natural man, and to become saints.[15]
However small these acts, these are the very ones that “prepare the solid
ground on which our edifice of faith is built.”[16]
They are slowly teaching and helping us to become more like Heavenly Father and
Jesus Christ, and refining us to become more fitted to live with Them and each
other for the eternities.[17]
The last choice is one I find
fascinatingly difficult and somewhat counterintuitive. It is to believe in and
to believe Christ, to accept Him as my Savior. It is counterintuitive to me
because, at least when I think of choice, I think that to choose successfully,
I must make these choices on my own. I think I have in my head sometimes this
notion that, in the end, I will show Christ what I have done and what I have
chosen, and He will, essentially, pass or fail me. But I am learning that this
is not His role in our lives. He, better than any other, offers His yoke to us[18];
a subtle but significant nuance in this is that He offers us His yoke, as we rest from ours. When we
choose to set aside our own wills, and choose to live in the way He has
directed—striving to follow His gospel, living His commandments, making and
keeping promises through covenants—we are slowly and steadily progressing
towards liberty and eternal life. It may seem strange, and again
counterintuitive and even burdensome at first, that this trek towards liberty
involves a yoke, but I KNOW that this
is where true freedom and joy are found. I know that His yoke is easy—not easy
as it is the opposite of hard, but as the opposite of uneasy. It can be, at
first, very uncomfortable, as any change is prone to be, but as our
relationship with the Savior grows, we will be released from so much of the
uneasiness about life—the anxiety, the restlessness, the fear that accompanies
us when we try to do things without Him. It can be difficult because the
rewards from following Him are often not immediate[19]
and because sometimes it is simply hard to hear His voice—but as we make this
deliberate choice to follow Him, placing our trust in Him by casting aside our
doubts and our fears (which, granted, is no easy task), we show Him that we are
willing to be accountable, responsible, for the choice to follow Him, and in
this our faith is increased. We choose Him and the work that accompanies the
salvation we desire and hope for,[20]
deliberately choosing to set aside other things, like fitting in, or receiving
others’ approval, or even the comfort of not having all your weakness exposed.
Though we are prone to wander, let us be a little better about choosing to give
our hearts to Him.[21]
Since I get to pick the hymns, I
picked this next one strategically.[22]
As we sing it, my prayer is that we each have the strength to make the choices
that will lead us back to Heavenly Father, that rather than choosing to see our
own path, we choose to let Him lead us forward, not asking for more than one
step at a time.
[1] http://www.lds.org/young-women/personal-progress/choice-and-accountability?lang=eng
[2]
Alma 37:44
[3] 2
Nephi 2:27
[4]
Sharon G. Larsen, Agency—A Blessing and a
Burden, November 1999 General Conference
[5] 2
Nephi 2:16
[6]
Joel 3:14
[7]
Mosiah 4:29
[8]
D&C 58:26
[9]
Sharon G. Larsen, Agency—A Blessing and a
Burden, November 1999 General Conference
[10]
Ecclesiastes 3:1
[11]
Henry B. Eyring, Mountains to Climb, April
2012 General Conference
[12]
D&C 58:27
[13] 1
Kings 18:21
[14]
Marvin J. Ashton, The Tongue Can Be a
Sharp Sword, April 1992 General Conference
[15]
Mosiah 3:19
[16]
Henry B. Eyring, Mountains to Climb,
April 2012 General Conference
[17] Dallin
H. Oaks, The Challenge to Become,
October 2000 General Conference
[18]
Matthew 11:28-30
[19]
Neal A. Maxwell, Lest Ye Be Weary and
Faint in Your Minds, April 1991 General Conference
[20]
Philippians 2:12
[21] Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing
[22] Lead, Kindly Light, Hymn 97
hehe, you seem... what's the right word here... apologetic? in presenting your thoughts. kinda different from the "this is me, deal with it" noelle that i'm used to. perhaps it was a way to develop ethos, though. :-p
ReplyDeleteanyway, thanks for sharing! it's always nice to see talks given with deeper insight than the usual primary answers most are used to.