How Much Credit does God Really Deserve? A Lesson in Avoiding Latter-Day Fatalism

In recent general conferences we've heard several injunctions against excusing our actions by saying "the devil made me do it." Perhaps the most forceful denunciation on the list is this from Elder Robert D. Hales:

"Today I want to convey, in absolutely certain terms, that the adversary cannot make us do anything."


The philosophy in question pleases Satan because his program from the beginning was to "make us do it." By ascribing our misdeeds to a lack of agency caused by his power over us, we give the devil what he has always wanted. 


I think this is generally well understood in the Church because, in my experience, it is well taught. But sometimes I hear things that make me wonder if we don't have the opposite problem, namely, giving God credit for things in a way that denies human agency.


For instance, a person I know recently experienced a computer shutdown due to a Windows automatic update while she was working on what she considered an important list. Prone to making lists to the point of distraction, this person was frustrated when the list, unsaved, could not be recovered. But she realized in that moment how dependent she was on her lists, and that she often failed to act because she was so busy listing and dissecting and categorizing the appropriate action instead. Then she gave up on the list and got to work. 


Now, that's a valuable lesson, and one that this person really (by her own admission) needed. She recognized it as such and expressed gratitude for having learned it. And now I proceed to make my point:


What if, instead of simply taking the lesson from the experience and thanking God for it, this person had claimed that God personally shut down her computer so that she could learn this lesson? Is that even possible? Sure. But likely? Lets think about that for a second. 


Windows automatic updates are annoying (had to slip that in there) and happen according to a preset schedule that, in this case, had not been changed from the default setting. This means that the computer had been updating according to that schedule since Windows was first set up on it. The person in my example just hadn't been working during the previous updates, so she'd never experienced them.


What determined the exact moment of the update? The programming that had been constant for as long as the computer had been active. Who programmed it that way? Some guy (or girl) at Microsoft. In other words: not God. 


Who hired that guy? Not God. Who made the decision about when updates should happen by default? Not God. Who started Microsoft and made Windows the dominant OS? Not God. Who developed programming skills so he could get the job? Not God. Who raised the guy and paid for his schooling? Not God. Who conceived and gave birth to him? Not God? Who made it possible for him to live in the first place? God. Okay, you've got me there. 


So in the grand scheme of things, God deserves credit for the automatic update happening when it did. But my point is that He did not - probably - directly cause it to happen at that moment like a great celestial puppet master. That was done by man, according to his agency. 


Now, I am a great believer in receiving all things as though they came from the hand of God, so in my opinion, what did God do here that was so great? It was infinitely greater than personally orchestrating the shutdown of my friend's computer. This is what I think it was: He spoke to my friend's soul at the moment when she was most receptive to His words. He used the outcome of another person's agency to lead my friend closer to Him.


A master mechanic, engineer, or inventor can create a mechanism of such precision that even though it contains thousands of components, it never fails to operate perfectly so long as each single piece remains whole. As long as the parts stay perfect, the device fulfills its design.


The problem with applying this metaphorically to God is that His parts - the "pieces" of his machine - are human. They are imperfect by definition. How often do we hear this taught in church or General Conference: that our hands are the Lords and He works through us by sanctifying and completing our ever inadequate offerings? That His spirit is sufficient to overcome our weakness? 


A company may be like an enormous clock, but mortality isn't - at least, not in this sense. God's might - his omnipotence - is not in His pulling all the strings just perfectly so that we all do exactly what we need to at exactly the right time for the salvation of souls. That's a very Calvinist philosophy that robs us of all freedom to act as surely as Satan's plan ever would have and withholds from God the glory we might give Him by choosing to honor Him over the world. If all we are is cogs in a machine, where is God's glory in saving us? Furthermore, how is it possible that we can sin, since every act is part of our divinely appointed design? This gives rise to the erroneous concept of predestination for salvation or damnation. God chooses ahead of time who is saved and we all just play the part we're given. Good works become evidence of prearranged salvation, not penitent or devoted offerings by those who would please their Lord. It's the ultimate expression of fatalism. It's what Lehi commented so eloquently on here.


God's omnipotence is that in spite of having but imperfect instruments, his designs are still beyond frustration. His plan was that we should be saved by our own choice, and he lost a third of his children over the issue, so devoted was he to preserving our freedom - even theirs. He would not compel them, even at such great cost.


Although we sin, although we fail, although we hearken not to His counsels, God still works his marvelous work and reaches the souls of all men such that all are left without excuse when they stand at last before his throne for judgment. 


He can take the most insignificant of events - small and simple indeed - and from it craft a communication that leads us to choose to follow His path more fully. Not because we have no choice, but because He knows us so perfectly. What He deserves the credit and our unending praise for is this: God can use even an annoying automatic update to save our souls.