Another Perspective on Patience

                Sometimes I find verses in the scriptures that make me sit up and scratch my head, because they are so counter-intuitive. James 1:3 presents such a puzzle for me. It reads: “My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations;”

Excuse me? Did that verse just tell me to rejoice when I was “falling into temptation”? That doesn’t necessarily seem like a concept inspired by the God who said “For I the Lord cannot look upon sin with the least degree of allowance.” (D&C 1:31) Something more needs to be going on here. The Joseph Smith translation of the verse adds a little hint, which would read as follows:

“My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into many afflictions.”

The JST makes a lot more sense because the scripture is no longer telling us to rejoice in sin, but now it presents a different and equally puzzling piece of advice—rejoice when things aren't going well. That’s not necessarily an easy commandment to follow. When things are going south, my mood tends to head in the same direction, and counting setbacks as “a joy” isn’t my natural instinct.

                Today I want to submit to you a possible explanation for this passage of scripture, and some insight I’ve gleaned into the subject. My hope is that those who feel that they are “falling into many afflictions” at the moment can take some measure of peace from realizing the greatness of their situation.

                Let’s start by reading onwards to see what James does to clarify this puzzle. The next verses shed some light on the subject. “Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.” In other words, trials give us patience, which in turn will help us become perfected. So why should we rejoice when we are being afflicted? Because we’re learning patience! That’s a good answer (and the correct one), but it’s not necessarily one that leaves me beaming among the rubble after life comes crashing down around me. Let’s dive a little deeper, because I think that there is more comfort in this concept of patience than simply the idea that it is a Christ-like attribute that we all need.

                To understand the concept of patience, let’s talk psychology for a second. I’m not a psych major or expert by any means, but in my basic high school class on the subject, we talked about something called operant conditioning. Operant conditioning, as defined by Wikipedia, “is a method of learning that occurs through reinforcements and punishments for behavior.” In other words, it’s a way of training an organism through a rewards system. If you do well, you get a treat. If you mess up, you go hungry. Using this approach, one can train animals to do incredible things, from playing fetch to running through mazes. Operant Conditioning worked so well that the U.S. even used this approach to train pigeons to guide missiles during WWII—and it worked! 

                While thinking about this concept one day, I was struck by the thought that the way the Gospel rewards system works is a lot like operant conditioning. King Benjamin explains in Mosiah 2:22 that “[The Lord] has promised you that if ye would keep his commandments ye should prosper in the land; and he never doth vary from that which he hath said; therefore, if ye do keep his commandments he doth bless you and prosper you.” When we obey God, we are granted blessings. Some are very obvious—such as stories of miraculous healings and monetary help. Others are more subtle—such as character improvement, feelings of peace and comfort, or small moments of positivity. Regardless of the whether the blessing is big or small, God is bound by His word to grant us blessings. In operant conditioning theory, that’s the same as giving rewards for behavior you want to reinforce.

                The thought that once haunted me was the idea that I’m no better than a rat or a pigeon in that case. If you can give a reward to a rat every time it keeps a commandment, and punish the rat every time it breaks one, you can train that rat to keep any commandment. If that’s the case, what separates us from them? More importantly, how do I show God that I truly love Him and want to do what’s right, regardless of the rewards? Where are my conscious decisions involved in this process? Take a simple analogy here: suppose every time I tried to express my love for my mother, I received a cookie. Could you ever really say “he loves his mom”? Probably not, because there is always a chance that the only reason I would do anything kind for her was to receive the cookie. My intentions are always going to be in doubt, and rightfully so.

                In the cookie analogy, the only way you could ever really know I loved my mother was if I continued to express love even when the cookies stopped coming. Operant condition theory would teach that if the rewards stopped, so would the behavior. But if I continue to consciously do the behavior, then you can know for certainty that I love my mother, because something more than the cookie is driving me. Therein the key to this concept of patience. It’s only in afflictions that we have a chance to demonstrate sincere love for God. When it seems like we are getting punished for doing what’s right, that’s the time that we can prove to God that we are more than lab rats. In that moment you can say “I obey because I want to”. It’s in that point that the most character is built, that your conscious decisions start to matter a lot more.

                And so count it a joy when times get hard! That’s the best possible opportunity, if not the only opportunity, for you to grow. It’s the moment when you get a chance to step up and use your willpower in a meaningful way. What you do in those moments proves who you really are, and what you really value.