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Wrestling with Comparisons
Through mindfulness and the pure love of Christ, we can overcome the temptation to compare.
From a devotional address given to students at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah, USA, on May 7, 2019. For the full address, visit speeches.byu.edu.
The tendency to compare is something that I think about all the time because I do it all the time. But even that statement is a bit misleading. Saying, “I do it all the time,” is like saying, “I breathe all the time.” It just happens without me thinking about it. It can almost feel reflexive—almost natural. That is why it is so vexatious. We know from Mosiah 3 that when we are left to our “natural” state, we struggle to “[yield] to the enticings of the Holy Spirit” (verse 19).
So what would the Holy Spirit entice us to do?
First, we need to identify the problem. Let me outline it by revealing how I used to envision the scriptural narrative in Doctrine and Covenants 7. This section retells how John expressed his heartfelt wish to have “power over death, that [he could] live and bring souls unto [Christ]” until Jesus comes again (Doctrine and Covenants 7:2; see also John 21:20–23). We learn in section 7 of the Doctrine and Covenants that Peter, on the other hand, had desired that he might “speedily come unto [the Lord] in [His] kingdom” (Doctrine and Covenants 7:4).
Here is how I have imagined this scenario playing out. Peter approaches the Savior a bit hesitantly and quietly asks, “What was John’s heartfelt wish?” Peter learns that John desired to stay on the earth until the Second Coming to preach the gospel. I can see Peter keeping a forced smile and saying, “Wow. That is wonderful.” But in his mind he is really thinking, “Ahhh! I am so dumb! Why didn’t I ask for that? Why didn’t I even think of that? John is so much more righteous than I am! Not to mention he is a faster runner than I am! Why do I always have to be so impetuous and jump in first on everything?”
In this reading, one might assume that Doctrine and Covenants 7:5 would read like this: “I say unto thee, Peter, [your desire to come speedily into my kingdom] was a good desire; but my beloved [John] has desired that he might do more, or a greater work yet among men than what [you have done, thou slacker].” I realized that of course the verse did not read that way. Here is how it really reads: “I say unto thee, Peter, this was a good desire; but my beloved has desired that he might do more, or a greater work yet among men than what he has before done” (Doctrine and Covenants 7:5; emphasis added).
I feel this with the force of truth: our perfect, loving God does not make the kinds of horizontal comparisons that I had been imagining in this scene. In this verse Jesus only compared John with John’s former self—John with old John. He only compared Peter with old Peter, with former Peter. And He only compares me with old me.
We know all about this, don’t we? But if we know these truths, if they make us feel so settled, then why is it so hard to remember them? What can we do?
The Process of Becoming Aware
Well, for one thing, we can be mindful. So, first, let’s draw attention to our tendency to compare. And here are some things we notice.
We sense that comparing can lead to all kinds of trouble. On the one hand, it can breed arrogance. It can breed conceit. It can breed disdain and contempt. It can breed self-satisfaction and complacency and apathy. On the other hand, it can breed despair. It can breed hopelessness. It can breed feelings of worthlessness and shame. It is a pretty potent instrument for sin and misery!
We can take Nephi’s approach. We can say, “Why should I give way to temptations, that the evil one have place in my heart to destroy my peace and afflict my soul?” (2 Nephi 4:27).
We can notice how false these comparisons most often are—that is, that they are often based on falsehoods and on faulty premises, both of others’ making and of our own making. That is worth noting, worth confronting, and worth constantly reminding ourselves.
Too Many Variables
Korihor’s exchange with Alma rightfully gets a lot of attention in Church lessons and discourses. But I think that one of Korihor’s assertions does not get enough attention for just how demonstrably false it is. Korihor asserted that “every man prospered according to his genius, and that every man conquered according to his strength” (Alma 30:17). That assertion is simply not true, and when we are honest with ourselves, we know it is not true.
What I mean is that no one can legitimately say, in the ultimate sense, “I prospered because of my genius,” or “I conquered because of my strength.” We know that, in reality, so many variables are involved. Where we are born, when we are born, our race, our gender, the schools available to us, the education level of our parents, genetic markers like height and muscle mass, the timing of our application and the pool of applicants for a program or a job—there are so many things that are out of our control. All of these factors impact the degree to which we even have the opportunity to “prosper” or “conquer.” And for that matter, what does “prospering” or “conquering” even definitively look like?
Can we see why comparisons just are not fair—to us or to others? There are too many variables involved.
All of this is to say that we should certainly be more compassionate with everyone because we do not know what burdens they are carrying or what life loads are weighing them down. And we should certainly be more humble when we succeed.
Less about Ourselves
I have four wonderful children—Parley, Marshall, Truman, and Ashley—and I have learned so many lessons from them. An image that is as vivid in my mind today as it was when it happened more than 15 years ago is a backyard game of catch with my two oldest boys, Parley and Marshall. Parley was five or six years old; Marshall was probably three. I would throw the football to each of them in turn. Parley was catching the football almost every time. Marshall, not so much.
I can see Marshall concentrating, watching the ball—and then missing it every time. No matter how I threw the ball, it seemed like it always hit him on the head as it went right through his hands, which were closing for the ball just one beat too early or too late. Luckily it was a really soft, inflatable football. But here is the thing I will never forget: Marshall cheered, jumped up and down, and squealed in delight every time Parley caught it. I can still hear his little voice yelling, “Good catch, Par!” or “That was great, Par!” And then he would miss the next throw that came to him. But somehow that did not dampen his enthusiasm for Parley’s success. Somehow he knew that his contest was not with Parley. He could have joy in Parley’s success. How do we recapture that sense of childlike celebration for the good fortune of others?
When our motives are pure, when we act out of a pure heart, and when our only intent is to bless others, prideful comparisons are defanged. They have no bearing in our thinking. When we are filled with charity, we will be like the Savior. Why were pure motives so natural for Him? Because, simply, He knew who He was and He knows you and He knows me. That changes everything.
If we ask ourselves whether or not Jesus compared Himself to those around Him or took comfort in where He stood “on the ladders of ... success”1 and in who was beneath Him, the question becomes instantly ridiculous. We remember that this is the Savior who aims to make us—in the language of Doctrine and Covenants 88—“equal with him”! (verse 107). There is no jealousy, no competition. If the temptation to compare reared its head, He “gave no heed” to it (Doctrine and Covenants 20:22). And we can be like Him.
What Really Matters
You are going to get emails or voicemails or text messages—maybe even this very day—notifying you that someone else was hired for a job, that someone else was picked for the team, that someone is not interested in a second date, that someone else has been called as Relief Society president, and so on. But do not take that as a mark of your worth. Disappointments do sting, but they can also be wonderfully, albeit painfully, formative. All things really can “work together for [the] good [of] them that love God” (Romans 8:28). But do not let the temptation to compare give these disappointments destructive power. These comparisons are counterfeits; they do not—cannot—adequately measure what really matters. When disappointments hit, we take a deep breath; we remember what really matters.
I remember being very struck the first time I heard someone quote what President David O. McKay said about imagining our future interview with the Lord. President McKay stressed that the Lord will not ask about our professions, only our integrity. He will not ask for our résumé of Church callings, only our interest in ministering to others.2 These are the things that really matter.
Let’s all find a mirror. Let’s look at ourselves. Let’s repeat, “My contest is not with anyone else; my contest is with myself. The race is against sin, not against each other.”3 Then we must pray with all the energy of heart to be filled with the pure love of Christ (see Moroni 7:48), of Him who is “the author and finisher of our faith” (Hebrews 12:2; see also Moroni 6:4). We must refuse to let lies “interrupt [our] rejoicings” (Alma 30:22) over the truths that are deeper and more convincing than the falsehoods of comparisons. And then we must walk out the door, forget ourselves, and start concentrating on others.4