Sabbath Devotional :: The Power of Intervention

power of intervention - Mormon Women for Ethical Government — .

My 12-year-old son, Palmer, was leading a family discussion, and he asked us to comment on the following passage:

And it came to pass that they were angry with me again, and sought to lay hands upon me; but behold, one of the daughters of Ishmael, yea, and also her mother, and one of the sons of Ishmael, did plead with my brethren, insomuch that they did soften their hearts; and they did cease striving to take away my life.

And it came to pass that they were sorrowful, because of their wickedness, insomuch that they did bow down before me, and did plead with me that I would forgive them of the thing that they had done against me.

And it came to pass that I did frankly forgive them all that they had done, and I did exhort them that they would pray unto the Lord their God for forgiveness. And it came to pass that they did so. And after they had done praying unto the Lord we did again travel on our journey towards the tent of our father (1 Nephi 7:19–21).

The point he expected us to note was the frank forgiveness; in a household of squabbling teenage boys, its relevance is obvious. But it was a different part that struck me:

“Behold, one of the daughters of Ishmael, yea, and also her mother, and one of the sons of Ishmael, did plead with my brethren, insomuch that they did soften their hearts; and they did cease striving to take away my life” (emphasis added).

Because of my graduate studies in relationships and human behavior and my work doing interventions in clinical settings, I was immediately drawn to this passage. Palmer wants to be a psychologist, so I pointed out that this is a scriptural example of an intervention at work, one in which words mattered; words changed behaviors. This story has incredible contemporary relevance.

One of Ishmael’s daughters and her mother and brother were not willing to be tacit bystanders. They acted, in a crisis, an emotionally charged moment of danger, not with weapons or physical power, but with their minds and their hearts. They used words to prevent destruction. In that moment, they chose to act, interjecting themselves into the conflict with a desire to help.

It says they “pled,” and, while we don’t have a transcript of the dialogue and strategies they used, I would guess that they helped the aggressors see the situation from a new perspective. Maybe they helped the others consider the consequences of their actions during a moment of emotion and impulse. I am sure they reasoned. They negotiated. They passionately persuaded. They used powerful rhetoric. Ultimately, their voices changed the situation — and not just in a neutral, “OK, drop it” way in which the fighters are separated. They reversed the trajectory of the interaction so much that Nephi’s brothers saw their error, felt sorrow and humility, and desired forgiveness from both Nephi and God.

Just think: In another, similar situation, an angel intervened to bring about a similar result. Through the use of words, these mortals were as powerful as an angel in bringing peace.

Let’s apply this to our world today. Do we have the art and skill of Ishamael’s daughter? Can we step up in emotionally charged moments to defuse tensions and tame egos? Can we reason with others and help them to stop and think, take on new perspectives, act with rationality, civility and forethought of consequence, and acknowledge common humanity? How do we work with grace and love, giving others the security and space to change or acknowledge mistakes? Can our ways repair breaches and build unity?

Agency as a concept is often over-simplified and misunderstood. It is not simply a test of whether we will choose right or wrong in difficult situations, but of whether we will choose to activate our will to do something when we can. When turmoil surrounds us, will we step up and use our minds and hearts, our words and our reason to help? If we do, we, like Ishmael’s daughter, may discover that we have the power to save someone or something — to change the course of the story.