The lie that leads to disobedience

Elder Packer is famous for teaching that we change behavior more by teaching doctrine than by teaching behavior (see here, here, and here).

For instance, he said,

The study of the doctrines of the gospel will improve behavior quicker than a study of behavior will improve behavior. Preoccupation with unworthy behavior can lead to unworthy behavior. That is why we stress so forcefully the study of the doctrines of the gospel (from the second link above).

This thinking is closely aligned with what President Benson taught:

The Lord works from the inside out. The world works from the outside in. The world would take people out of the slums. Christ takes the slums out of people, and then they take themselves out of the slums. The world would mold men by changing their environment. Christ changes men, who then change their environment. The world would shape human behavior, but Christ can change human nature (“Born of God,” Ensign, November 1985).

I’ve often puzzled over that idea, but I had some thoughts on it this past weekend that allowed it to make sense. Here’s the way I worked my way through it:

1. Bad behavior begins with a lie, or (more charitably), a misunderstanding.

2. The misunderstanding leads to a distorted view – or a hidden truth -- of God

3. The hidden truth results in unnecessary fear and negative thoughts

4. That fear leads to improper behavior and stress resulting from the cognitive dissonance between doing what is wrong and knowing (through the light of Christ) what is right

5. That dissonance is covered by addictive behaviors or other self-destructive behavior

Two examples, the first of which is scriptural and the second of which is personal.

First, consider the Lamanites in the Book of Mormon. At many times in their history they engaged in bad behavior. While it would be logical to focus on the behavior and try to change it, that is not the root of the problem. The root is the basic lie that underlies the behavior. The tradition of their fathers was that Lehi led them away from their inheritance and Nephi subjected Laman & Lemuel to Nephi’s rule, effectively stealing the birthright.

That basic lie (taught in the tradition of their fathers) led to a fundamental misunderstanding of God: he was harsh and punishing rather than loving and supportive. Eventually a false god replaced the true God in their lives.

The fundamental lack of understanding of God led them away from covenants and into behavior contrary to the gospel, robbing them of blessings they might otherwise enjoy. The lack of joy enhanced the need in the Lamanites to control the Nephites and their lands, to right the wrongs supposedly done to them, and perpetuated a spiral of sin and moving away from the true God.

In those cases where Lamanites rose above their nature and above the traditions of their fathers it is when the fundamental lie was overcome and the truth about God was taught to them (think Ammon and King Lamoni).

Now, a personal example: The lie that I struggle with often is that I know better than God what is good for me. Sometimes I do not trust the power of the atonement in my own life, and I feel like efforts to improve (even though I may see the need to improve) will not bear fruit.

This lie that I tell myself and believe diminishes my faith because it obscures the true power of the atonement in my life; it effectively limits (in my mind) the power of God to help me and His love for me.

As a result, when I'm trusting this lie, obedience is more difficult for me. On the one hand, I fear the punishment that will come with lack of obedience, or I fear that others in my circle won’t care about me because I’m not as good as I should be. On the other hand, because I know what is best for me, I can pick and choose how to obey.

Unfortunately, disobedience to what the spirit has taught me (and what I recognize as true when not under the cloud of this lie) leads to the dissonance in me that comes when I know right and do wrong. And my means of coping with that dissonance is more wrong: it leads in me to bursts of anger, efforts to control others’ outcomes, and disappointments at false expectations that I have built in myself.

While it’s easy enough for me to spot my own bad behavior and to tell myself to stop it, stopping the behavior is not the issue. The issue is getting to the lie and rooting it out. And the way to do that is by learning pure truth: doctrine.

Prayer is the Soul's Sincere Desire

Since our priesthood lesson a couple of weeks ago, I've thought about prayer a little more.

I've been a member of the church since I was nearly nine years old (my parents and siblings and I are converts), and I prayed with my parents as long as I can remember. Prior to our joining the church, blessings on the food were common in our home, and at night we'd say The Lord's Prayer and / or "Now I lay me down to sleep…" After joining the church, blessings on the food continued and we had regular family prayers, and we were encouraged at home (and of course at church) to pray individually, too.

A favorite childhood memory was trying to say prayer after some family nights. My mom played piano, and after FHE, we'd gather round the Steinway in the living room and sing hymns. Dad kept asking for one more and one more. We'd sing and then become remarkably silly (not sure why), and by the time we'd kneel for prayer it was nearly impossible for everyone to keep a straight face. On more than one occasion, Dad suggested we simply allow Heavenly Father in on the joke so we could get through the prayer.

Around age 13 I was called as deacons quorum president. I was told to go home and pray about whom to call as counselors. I didn't really know what I was doing, but I knew how to pray. So I knelt by my bed several nights and asked who I should call. One name kept coming to me, so I assumed that was the right choice. (It wasn't like there were a lot of alternatives; we were a typical small quorum of five or six boys.) I recommended him and the bishop approved. That was likely my first "answer" to prayer that I recognized as such.

Over the years, I took to heart the counsel in Alma 34 that we ought to pray about everything in our life, and ask for blessings. As a young man I typically felt that my prayers for others were more readily answered than prayers for myself, or at least more directly. I learned from the example of a great district leader on my mission to pray for our investigators by name. When he prayed in our district meetings, he mentioned each investigator and often something particular about where they were in the lessons or what question they were trying to answer at the time. I've been fortunate to see positive answers to my prayers on behalf of family members, friends and those I home teach.

As I've entertained gospel questions through the years – probably beginning in my late high school years when I really started to wake up to a desire to know more than I did – I've found that I rarely got burning answers during my prayers. Instead my prayers have framed my study, and answers have come later as I've read or listened to others. Even so, I've been able to link those answers to specific prayers enough that I see the relationship in my life.

I've relied on prayer in my callings where I've had responsibility to minister to others or to handle matters of administration such as extending callings, staffing organizations, organizing meetings. In some cases, like when I was a deacon, names have come clearly to me in prayer. In other cases, I've felt the warm confirming spirit as others have recommended names to me to consider.

I remember a lesson taught me by a loving stake president who once told me he couldn't explain to me why a particular name I'd recommended had not been approved. He said simply, "The spirit tells me yes or no, not why."

Several years ago, because of some challenges in our family, I had been in the habit of giving the Lord my laundry list of wants in prayer, expecting that if I had enough faith, and if I were righteous enough, these "desires of my heart" would be granted. They were righteous desires: safety for my children, and healing for some who were in desperate need. Sometimes I'd remember a perfunctory "Thy will be done" at the end of my prayers, though probably not always (and not often enough to actually demonstrate my faith in His will).

I had a rather large epiphany along the way. Thanks to a variety of sources converging on me at the same time, it occurred to me that I might have it wrong. Yes, I was concerned about specific things, and yes I hoped for specific outcomes. But those outcomes were out of my control. And I believed that my Heavenly Father loved all the players involved. And my prayers changed. I moved from praying for a specific outcome – my desired outcome – to praying for understanding of what I should do, how I should respond.

I have found much more peace in this approach. While previously I worried how things would end up, and I cringed each time it seemed things were going awry, now I know that the Lord is at the helm, and all I need to do is seek to understand His will for me (and do the best I can), and trust that He'll do the rest. In this way, I've been able to lay my burden at His feet.

I read Alma 34 now and think about my new understanding (after all these years). Surely it is good to seek the Lord's blessing in every aspect of our lives as Amulek recommends. In so doing, we learn humility, for when those blessings come we can recognize they are the Lord's blessings and not only the results of our labor.

But I believe it is also good to seek the Lord's will for us. Elder Eyring said in October General Conference in 2005, "We can pray every day to know what God would have us do. We can commit to start to do it quickly when the answer comes. My experience is that He always answers such petitions" ("Spiritual Preparedness: Start Early and Be Steady," Ensign, November 2005).

Seeking to understand the Lord's will for me is one way in which I can say with my whole heart, "Thy will be done." And that attitude allows me from time to time also to pray for specific outcomes, but with the faith that His will supersedes mine every time.