As a parent, I think I have heard just about everything from my children—feeble excuses for disobedience, lame explanations for missing curfew, impassioned pleas for permission to do something, direct criticism of my parenting skills, begging for money, mumblings and murmurings of all kinds, and sometimes, however rarely, even expressions of love. I’ve gotten so that a lot of what they say, especially when it is intended to provoke me, does not immediately cause my blood pressure to elevate to dangerous levels.
As I get older I have noticed that I am slower to become agitated with some of the irritating things they say and do. There is one thing, however, that my kids say, and though I have heard it a zillion times it still “pushes my buttons.” It is the rhetorical question, “Don’t you trust me?”
Usually that question is raised when we have denied them permission to do something, go somewhere, or be with someone. It is a rhetorical question, because as I have learned many times they really don’t want an answer; they just want permission to do what they want to do, right now! I find it interesting that most of the time my children ask that notorious question “Don’t you trust me?” they have done things that would cause us as parents concern about granting them permission. If I totally trusted them I would have given permission in the first place and then they wouldn’t have had to ask that aggravating, argumentative, rhetorical question that they know drives me up the wall!
What disturbs me most when my children ask, “Don’t you trust me?” is the implication that trust is something that just automatically happens, like one of those “unalienable rights” mentioned in the Declaration of Independence. Trust, like freedom, doesn’t just exist in a vacuum, as it were. It must be earned. There is a price that must be paid for trust and the freedom that it affords. My children sometimes can’t see the relationship between the two. Mom and Dad don’t just arbitrarily decide if and when they trust their children. They don’t grant or deny permission and freedom merely on a whim. Trust and freedom are directly linked to other factors.
“If you feel pressed in and pressured and not free,” Elder Boyd K. Packer observed, “it may be for one of two reasons. One, if you have lost freedom, possibly it has been through some irresponsible act of your own. Now you must regain it. You may be indentured—indentured to some habits of laziness or indolence; some even become slaves to addiction. The other reason is that maybe if you are not free you have not earned it. Freedom is not a self-preserving gift. It has to be earned, and it has to be protected.” (“That All May Be Edified” [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1982], p. 254.)
Freedom and Personal Behavior
In high school I came to understand in an interesting and personal way how trust and freedom are directly linked to behavior. During my senior year, my friends and I decided that we were going to take a “college day” absence to go visit a college campus to determine if we wanted to attend that university. Our high school allowed graduating seniors a few school-excused “college days” absences for this purpose. In reality, we had no intention of attending that school, but we wanted a school-authorized and approved absence that was really a “vacation”—kind of like the movie Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.
We selected a weekend for our trip that not-so-accidentally coincided with a girls’ drill team competition for the state. Our girlfriends were in the drill team and would be conveniently in that city the same weekend. The plans were made, but an obstacle or two remained in the way–permission to go and then being able to take the family car. Our biggest concern was the car—it’s far easier to get permission to go somewhere than to get permission to take the car.
“Top, you ask your parents for permission to take your car,” my buddies requested. “Your parents trust you, and if they let you take the car then our parents will surely let us go along.” What my friends said was true. My parents did seem to trust me a great deal and I seemed to have more freedom and privileges than most. I assumed that it was just because I was the “baby” of the family and “spoiled rotten”–deservedly so I might add! It was, however, on this trip that I began to put two and two together regarding my parents’ trust. What I learned was enlightening and has stayed with me all the years since. I have tried to teach the same principle to my own children.
When the long-awaited and planned-for weekend arrived, we excitedly drove across the state–not with an intention of visiting the college, but rather playing and partying with friends. There we were–boyfriends and girlfriends alone and without parental supervision. There were many opportunities to fall prey to temptations and the foolish activities of youth. But when I came face to face with some of the temptations we had actually planned for and “courted,” one thought repeatedly and powerfully pierced my mind and heart. “Your parents trust you.”
I could hear over and over again my friends stating that to me. It was almost like an epiphany to mesa revelation as to why I was where I was, doing what I wanted to be doing. It dawned on me like a thunderbolt that I was able to take the car and go away with friends for a weekend–even in the presence of sin and temptation– because my parents trusted me. They trusted me because I had not been rebellious, fighting them for my independence and resisting their supervision and expectations. They trusted me because I had been obedient.
Now, don’t get me wrong—I wasn’t a perfect little angel, but neither was I a perfect little devil. I generally tried to live the standards of the gospel, obey family rules, and respect the wishes of my parents. As the temptations to “sow wild oats” or “go off the deep end” presented themselves to me I was reminded that if I did those things I would lose my parents’ trust (and certainly break their hearts) and as a result I would lose the freedom I so much enjoyed. My much-treasured independence was inextricably linked to their trust of me and their trust was linked to my obedience. You can’t have one without the other. I am grateful for the lesson learned that weekend in Boise so many years ago. I wish I had understood it sooner. It could have averted many arguments and allowed me to enjoy even greater freedom.
How Real Agency Operates
One of the most important messages of the Book of Mormon for our day–for young and old alike—is how agency really operates and the relationship of freedom to choose to the consequences resulting from those choices. Through the doctrinal teachings and examples of the lives of men and women we read about in the Book of Mormon, we see how some, through obedience, obtained “perfect liberty”—what President Marion G.
Romney defined as “freedom of the soul”—while others became enslaved, physically and spiritually, through their sinful choices.
Agency is a great blessing. “Next to the bestowal of life itself, the right to direct our lives is God’s greatest gift to man,” President David O. McKay declared. “Freedom of choice is more to be treasured than any possession earth can give …. It is the impelling source of the soul’s progress.” (“Man’s Free Agency~ an Eternal Principle of Progress,” Improvement Era, December 1965, p. 1073.) Although agency is a divine gift and a monumental blessing to mankind, it also has its serious side effects. Not only can free exercise of agency yield great spiritual growth, bounteous blessings, and personal progress, but it can also end in bondage, misery, and spiritual death.
Every choice we make leads us in one direction or the other. As Lehi explained to his own family, specifically his son Jacob: “Wherefore, men are free according to the flesh; and all things are given them which are expedient unto man. And they are free to choose liberty and eternal life, through the great Mediator of all men, or to choose captivity and death, according to the captivity and power of the devil; for he seeketh that all men might be miserable like unto himself.” (2 Nephi 2:27; see also 2 Nephi 10:23.)
When we speak of agency there is another word that must also be used and understood in conjunction with it–accountability. It is the companion of agency and cannot be separated from it. Similarly, the word choice also has an inseparable companion–consequence. There are no real choices without accompanying consequences. If accountability is eliminated, so also is agency. There is a law of physics that I may not fully understand in its scientific context, yet I see a spiritual corollary—“For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.” Every choice we make–leading either to action or inaction—has a reaction, a consequence. While I am free to make my choices, I am not always free to choose the consequences—it is a package deal!
When my children disobey resulting in a loss of privileges or some other form of punishment, they sometimes say, “You’re taking away my free agency!” In reality, it is not we who have restricted them, but they themselves. Their choices yielded certain consequences—consequences they did not want but which cannot be separated from the choices. Many years ago there was a popular LDS musical entitled My Turn On Earth. In that musical play was a cute song with a profound and powerful message that illustrated the relationship between choice and consequence—agency and accountability. “When you choose the very first step on the road, you also choose the last. So if you don’t like the end of the road, you’d better back up fast.”
When I served as a bishop several years ago I had many experiences with disciplinary councils that also testified of this principle. When one man was disfellowshipped for serious moral transgressions, he accused me of wrongfully taking away blessings that he felt were rightfully his as a member of the Church, such as attending the temple, holding a calling, and participating in Church meetings. In his case, the Church discipline also adversely affected his vocational pursuits. “You’re taking away my freedom!” he stated repeatedly. “No,” I responded, “you took away your own freedom! You gave it away for sin.” That is the essence of agency and accountability, choice and consequence. They always go hand in hand. As Elder Neal A. Maxwell succinctly stated, “We’d better want the consequences of what we want!” (” ‘Swallowed Up in the Will of the Father,'” Ensign, November 1995, p. 23.) Samuel the Lamanite prophet, in calling the wicked Nephites to repentance, further taught this principle.
And now remember, remember, my brethren, that whosoever perisheth, perisheth unto himself; and whosoever doeth iniquity, doeth it unto himself; for behold, ye are free; ye are permitted to act for yourselves; for behold, God hath given unto you a knowledge and he hath made you free.
He hath given unto you that ye might know good from evil, and he hath given unto you that ye might choose life or death; and ye can do good and be restored unto that which is good or have that which is good restored unto you; or ye can do evil, and have that which is evil restored unto you. (Helaman 14:30-31.)
Liberty vs. Captivity
As Lehi taught, there are two ends of the continuum of agency—“liberty and eternal life” or “captivity and death.” The Book of Mormon gives us graphic illustrations of each. Individuals as well as entire nations are seen in the scriptures as obtaining through their own choices either freedom, both political and spiritual, or captivity—enslavement by their enemies and spiritual bondage to sin. One of my favorite illustrations in the Book of Mormon of how “perfect liberty” is obtained through righteousness is the example of Nephi, son of Helaman. Weighed down by the wickedness of the Nephites—their secret combinations, murders, immorality, dishonesty, and “all manner of iniquities,” Nephi poured out his soul to the Lord. “And it came to pass as he was thus pondering in his heart,” the scriptures record, “behold, a voice came unto him saying'”
Blessed art thou, Nephi, for those things which thou hast done; for I have beheld how thou hast with unwearyingness declared the word, which I have given unto thee, unto this people. And thou hast not feared them, and hast not sought thine own life, but hast sought my will, and to keep my commandments.
And now because thou hast done this with such unwearyingness, behold, I will bless thee forever; and I will make thee mighty in word and in deed, in faith and in works; yea, even that all things shall be done unto thee according to thy word, for thou shalt not ask that which is contrary to my will. (Helaman 10:3-5; see also verses 6-11.)
Nephi was given all power because of his righteousness. He could seal the heavens and cause a famine if he wanted to. He could destroy the wicked Nephites if he desired. He could move mountains or perform any other remarkable miracle. God gave him that power—that freedom to do anything he wanted because God trusted him totally. That kind of trust came because of continual, “unwearying” obedience. The Lord knew t, hat Nephi would not “ask that which is contrary to my will” because Nephi had already demonstrated that his choices and will were in harmony with the mind of God. That is freedom!
At the other end of the continuum I see Korihor as one whose choices led to terrible consequences. He certainly would not have desired those outcomes at the outset, yet they came as the natural by-product of his evil desires and deeds. Undoubtedly he was a man of great talent and ability, blessed with the gifts of a keen intellect and the powers of persuasion.
He had just as much freedom to choose as anyone else. Instead of choices that would lead to the kind of “perfect liberty” that Nephi would enjoy, he exercised his will to choose the path that led to complete captivity, both physical and spiritual. Korihor’s own words describe the consequences that followed his choices.
I always knew that there was a God.
But behold, the devil hath deceived me; for he appeared unto me in the form of an angel, and said unto me: Go and reclaim this people, for they have all gone astray after an unknown God. And he said unto me: There is no God; yea, and he taught me that which I should say. And I have taught his words; and I taught them because they were pleasing unto the carnal mind; and I taught them, even until I had much success, insomuch that I verily believed that they were true; and for this cause I withstood the truth, even until I have brought this curse upon me. (Alma 30:52-53.)
The scriptural account shows Korihor at the end of his life being rejected and derided by the very people who once supported him and made him popular. In the end, he was left to the humiliation of going from “house to house begging for his food” (Alma 30:56). While in this pitiful bondage he was “run upon and trodden down, even until he was dead” (Alma 30:59). What a contrast to righteous Nephi who had total freedom and ultimate power! God grants the obedient perfect liberty, whereas Satan only offers the wicked complete captivity. The “moral of the story” surely is as the prophet Mormon states it: “And thus we see the end of him who perverteth the ways of the Lord; and thus we see that the devil will not support his children at the last day, but doth speedily drag them down to hell” (Alma 30:60).
It was the sum of the choices made by the “more righteous part” of the Nephites that allowed them the freedom to behold the resurrected Lord and to one by one feel the prints in His hands and His feet (see 3 Nephi 11). It was the sum of their choices that led to freedom from contention and crime, prejudice and persecution (see 4 Nephi 1). The resulting blessings of their righteous choices included hearts filled with love of God, and spiritual and economic prosperity. “Surely there could not be a happier people among all the people who had been created by the hand of God” (4 Nephi 1:16). There are many similar accounts in the Book of Mormon of individuals and entire peoples who, through the righteous exercise of their agency, experienced “perfect liberty”—both temporal freedom and progression and spiritual “freedom of the soul.”
In contrast, it was the sum of the choices made by Laman and Lemuel that left them in ultimate spiritual bondage—“past feeling” (see 1 Nephi 17:45). It was the sum of the wicked choices made by the Nephites that led to their bondage to Gadianton robbers, to rampant corruption and crime at all levels, which in turn led to the ultimate undermining of their very government (see Helaman 6). Because of their unrighteous exercise of their divine gift of agency, they “did trample under their feet the commandments of God, and did turn unto their own ways” (Helaman 6:31), which resulted in the Spirit of the Lord withdrawing from them. The consequences of their choices led to ultimate bondage—“the sorrowing of the damned” (see Mormon 2). Mormon stated that because of their wickedness “they did curse God, and wish to die” and “that the day of grace was passed with them, both temporally and spiritually” (Mormon 2:14-15).
Each group, both ends of the continuum, started out with the same divine gift of agency. Each was blessed with the Light of Christ which “inviteth and enticeth to do good continually” (Moroni 7:13) and helps all “know good from evil” (Moroni 7:15-16). Yet the “end of the road” for each was poles apart—all because of the sum of choices, both small and large. There is probably no greater illustration of the reality that men are “free to act for [themselves]—to choose the way of everlasting death or the way of eternal life” (2 Nephi 10:23) than the Book of Mormon. And as the familiar saying states, “Those who fail to learn from the past are doomed to repeat it.” Truly, the Book of Mormon was written for our day.
