Sunday, April 29, 2018

the devil made me do it

From our first parents in the very beginning, the unique human tendency to pass the buck was established and exposed. Eve partook of the fruit, but blamed the serpent. Adam partook of the fruit, but blamed Eve. That precedent is a significant one and lingers with us even today. Accountability is one of the greatest struggles of humanity, to own up to your own choices, and furthermore, to accept the consequences of them.

The saying "the Devil made me do it!" finds its origins in this creation story of Adam and Eve. We use it today whenever we're anxious to be rid of personal accountability for our actions. We use it in desperation, wanting to wash our hands of all responsibility. If one can make a solid case that her own agency was overrun by a power outside herself, then one can be relieved of guilt, sadness, anger, or punishment. It's very convenient! This idea holds heavy influence with many people, described in terms of "temptation" or "the devil whispering in my ear". It's believed that there are actual demons or evil spirits (or Satan himself) that try to tempt you every which way. Within Mormonism, at least, it's thankfully acknowledged that whatever you DO with the temptation is a matter of personal agency. You have to choose to either withstand the temptation, or give in to it.  You don't as often hear "the Devil made me do it," so much as "Satan is really working on me." I've grown up hearing that latter phrase within my church community. Anytime you were experiencing doubt, trials, or obstacles clearly the devil was in on it.

Whether spirits, demons or the devil himself are real or not is not entirely the purpose of this conversation. But, rather, it points to a bigger and better question: are we acted upon by outside forces? Do those forces control us?

If it's true that the Devil can make you do something, it's absolutely true on the other side of the spectrum, that God can also make you do something. But most Mormons I talk to would arguably claim no such thing. No one has the power to force you to do anything. Not Satan. Not God. Agency always wins the day.

But why do we not live our own doctrine? We SAY agency rules supreme, but deep down, we secretly long to pass the buck. We don't really want to choose, and we don't really want to be held accountable. Perhaps it's not entirely our fault. Our sacred canon is replete with story after story, precedent after precedent with this mindset, Adam and Eve being only the first. The most poignant for me is the story of Abraham and Isaac. In every Sunday school class I've ever attended where this story was discussed, despite our cognitive dissonance, we go on to herald Abraham as an inspired prophet who heard the voice of God. Therefore, he was righteous and justified in almost sacrificing his son. Some may even humbly admit "I couldn't do what Abraham was asked to do. I'm just not righteous enough...maybe some day." And what if the story had been different? What if God saw fit not to send an angel? We'd still find a way to celebrate the story, to praise and honor Abraham for his radical devotion. I know that's true, because we grant that same praise to Nephi, who hears the voice of God tell him to slay Labon. And he does. Yet it's likely only context and the prophetic title that allows us to grant them such leeway. If a father today took his son up to the mountains and laid him on an altar and was carrying out, what was in his mind, a sacred ritual, whether he killed his child or was stopped by a heavenly visitor, either way the man would be considered a lunatic, a sociopath, a mentally ill man. Or likewise, if a man killed another man, claiming that God, or the Devil, or his neighbor told him to do it, his sentencing would be the same.

Revelation has come to embody this mindset. We use revelation as a way to abdicate responsibility. We look to God for answers in everything, wanting him to tell us what to do. Because once he does, then we no longer have to choose for ourselves. It's less and less "the Devil made do it" and more and more "God made do it." God told me to call you to this calling. God told me to propose to you. God told me to have another child. God told me to sacrifice you on this altar. God told me to kill him. God told me, God told me, God told me.

We may quickly rebuttal by saying that God isn't forcing our hands, but he's telling us his will and we're choosing to obey. Therefore, if someone wants to be righteous, they have to do whatever God tells them to do. It's almost semantical. One may not literally be forced, but one is certainly being spiritually manipulated. Because most of us just want to do good, be good, and be found worthy by God. If that means blind obedience, I guess we'll do it?

I have never been more at peace with the Bible, the Book of Mormon, and all of the world's scriptures, since purging this way of thinking--this way of living. When a scripture character, or a prophet does something heinous, I acknowledge it as just that--heinous. I no longer do the mental gymnastics that are necessary to justify and explain away the incongruities. The scriptures have to answer to my internal code of ethics and morality, not the other way around.

In day to day life, I no longer give sway to the notion that outside forces are acting upon me, forcing my hand. Whether angels and demons exist, whether the Holy Ghost whispers in our ears, whether God helps me find my car keys, or Satan makes me tell lies and yell at my kids, are questions deserving of their own book. But even if you believe in external powers at play, are you obligated to also believe in external force? Are these powers more powerful than you? Are they more knowledgeable than you? Are they more godly or ungodly than you?

I propose that whether or not such outside forces exist, we must all acknowledge that there are definitely internal forces at play. I, for one, choose to invest my energy into understanding those internal forces, because they ARE me. I am both good and evil. I am both God and Satan. I am both light and dark. I am both inspired and lunatic. I am both passionate and zealous. I am both righteous and wicked.

Admitting this is to experience a profound liberation. Instead of seeing myself as a colorless amoeba in a sea of black and white forces trying to capture me, influence me, and convert me to "their way," I'm instead a vibrant, colorful being, infused with light. And behind me, following ever at my heels, is my shadow. It's part of my mortality, to walk permanently affixed to the shadows. I can't separate them as Peter Pan once did. I'm not even supposed to try to. I'm just supposed to acknowledge and integrate its existence.

When I pray, I pray to the Godliness within me. God is within. God is our internal GPS. God is our consciousness. God is our intuition. God is our awakened faculties. God is our body. I pray that the traits, genes, and qualities I possess, made in the likeness of God, will be fully awakened and that Godliness will be made manifest through my choices. If I am truly a daughter of heavenly parents, of both a mother and a father, then I possess them within me. I am made OF them, not just LIKE them. There are times when I cathartically pray to the God "out there." I pour out my heart, I seek comfort during times of trial, I pray for peace and strength. And I always find it. So I continue to believe in the God with a capital 'G,' the actual being, the big kahuna God who perhaps lives and dwells up there or out there, but I no longer pray to that God for answers. Instead I pray that the answers, that dwell already within me, that God built into me, will rise up to the top and forefront of my mind.  And then I make a choice and proclaim boldly:

"I chose this. This is me. Not the devil. Not God. Just me. I'm responsible. I accept the consequences."

Living this way brings honor to God and develops our spiritual maturity. "And because that they are redeemed from the fall they have become free forever, knowing good from evil; to act for themselves and not to be acted upon..." 2 Nephi 2:26