ME&C: All the People Gathered (Alma 43)

For several months, I took a hiatus from this blog to concentrate on other matters. My reading of the Book of Mormon continued, though, a few verses here and there. Since I have much to read and study before the end of the year, I won't post on every chapter. But I look forward to coming back for them next year.

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Alma 43 is a watershed moment. It begins a two chapter introduction to the "war chapters," and does so in meticulous fashion. I call it the first epic battle of the Book of Mormon--not because it's necessarily larger in scope or casualty or importance--but because it is the first time a battle is described in such detail and with such little (apparent) focus on spirituality.

Hence the watershed. For generations, members of the church have defined themselves by how they interact with the next 20 or so chapters of Alma. Some skip over them. I admit to doing this myself more than once. Others revel in the change of pace, and are inspired by the intimate details of troop movements and the iconization of freedom fighters and arch villains. I've done that, too. I don't think either method is wrong.

Today, though, I've reflected a great deal on war. Life is a daily struggle to meet so many obligations, and the stakes are high. Salvation and exaltation for ourselves, our loved ones, our neighbors, and the thousands of strangers who cross our paths all the time. Sometimes, in this seemingly eternal conflict, we are dealt a blow that breaks us, like the savage blows the Lamanites rained upon the Nephite soldiers, "for they did smite in two many of their head-plates, and they did pierce many of their breastplates" (v. 44).

Even after all the Nephite soldiers' preparation, their enemies brought them down and endangered their cause.

Last week, some friends lost a newborn baby without warning or time to say goodbye. The loss was devastating. Despite taking all the precautions and notwithstanding their great love for their child, in a few moments they were separated, albeit "only" for this part of their existence. This blow should have broken them. There's no pain that can match it.

But it didn't. Or hasn't. The battle still rages, but instead of additional casualties, there are a few soldiers who fight on despite receiving what should have been mortal wounds. How did this happen? Most importantly, through the peace, comfort, and knowledge that only comes through the Lord Jesus Christ and his atonement. But they had something else going for them that I believe helped.

In Alma 43, there is a key to the Nephite victory that has nothing to do with strategy, surprise, or stealth. It has to do with numbers. Alma points out more than once that the Nephite force is woefully outnumbered. To even achieve a critical mass of soldiery, Captain Moroni takes an extreme action--conscripting an entire city. "And he caused that all the people in that quarter of the land should gather themselves together to battle against the Lamanites, to defend their lands and their country, their rights and their liberties; therefore they were prepared against the time of the coming of the Lamanites" (v. 26).

Everyone came to battle. Not just the strong twentysomething men. Everyone. Without this action, there would not have been enough soldiers to absorb the Lamanites' ferocious blows before the tide of the battle could turn.

As our little branch and members of the church throughout our area heard of one couple's tragedy, they volunteered to absorb a few blows and buy a few precious moments for those whose hearts were pierced with tragedy. To hug and bake, plan and prepare, scrub and vacuum, clasp hands and dry tears.

Can you imagine the sight of thousands of men, women, and children joining together to fight in a battle of seemingly imminent extinction? I can. I've seen it. I've seen the children, youth, men, and women in our little branch rise up in single purpose to defend those most precious to them. It is a sight marvelous to behold. 

ME&C: They Hushed Their Fears (Mosiah 23)

Mosiah 23 is a special chapter. It sows the seeds of great doctrine that are taught in the next 2 books in the Book of Mormon. Verses 9 - 11 anticipate the great chapters of Alma 26 and 29. We learn about godly government on earth, the importance of priesthood authority, and why bad things happen to good people.

I sometimes forget, though, that there are human beings, children of God, who act out this gospel smorgasbord. While I rejoice in the hard truths taught in this chapter, they lived them. One verse in particular stands out to me.

Alma's people in the land of Helam are trying very hard to establish a godly land. They follow the precepts of the gospel, work hard, choose good leaders, and put their faith in their Heavenly Father. And then the Lamanites come as part of the Father's perfection process.

Although they are initially "much frightened," Alma's exhortation focuses their concerns. "Therefore they hushed their fears, and began to cry unto the Lord that he would soften the hearts of the Lamanites" (v. 28).

What greater act of faith is there than this? While seeing a dangerous enemy march quickly toward you, you swallow your fear and turn to the Lord. There is no guarantee that you will live, or that your loved ones will make it through. But rather than waste your breath crying out in desperation, you fall to your knees and pray for guidance and strength.

The people of Alma are an example to me in many ways, but perhaps this above all. When the going gets tough, they shut their mouths and start to pray.

ME&C: Lost in the Wilderness (Mosiah 22)

The Lamanites in this chapter play a comic foil to the earnest people of Limhi. Not only do they allow themselves to be tricked by the old here's-some-wine-that-I'm-giving-you-because-I-like-you-not-because-I'm-about-to-escape-out-of-this-joint trick, but once they go in pursuit of the escaped group, "after they had pursued them two days, they could no longer follow their tracks; therefore they were lost in the wilderness" (v. 16). Losing the tracks was undoubtedly the handiwork of the Lord, since I doubt this army of Lamanites contained the all-star sorriest bunch of trackers of all time (Limhi's people had flocks and herds with them for crying outloud!). But lost in the wilderness? While it's possible that the Lamanites all simultaneously whacked their heads and got amnesia, I think the term "lost in the wilderness" refers to an absence of purpose rather than an absence of directional memory.

After all, it's likely the Lamanites knew the terrain of the surrounding land very well, at least that amount of land covered in two days' pursuit. Not only that, but I'm sure at least some could have retraced their steps, so a literal intepretation of the Lamanites' situation makes little sense.

However, reading "lost in the wilderness" as the loss of purpose brought on when their primary goal was no longer tenable, I can quickly relate to the Lamanites' situation. In fact, I feel like I'm in a similar quandary right now.

For the past year, I have  bent my efforts towards a singular goal. I spent long hours after work and on weekends preparing for what I assumed was an obvious next step in my life. In a matter of just a few weeks, however, I've lost the tracks of the future I once pursued. I can still see and evaluate my surroundings. I know the path I've taken. But like the Lamanites, retracing my steps is neither tenable nor attractive. As time marches inexorably forward, I cannot relive my year; there is no do-over.

So if the tracks are gone, now what?

When the Lord somehow destroyed the tracks and waylaid the Lamanite army's primary purpose, he began to actively use them as a tool to progress his work of his children's salvation and exaltation. Now, I certainly don't want to become the same type of instrument in his hands that the army becomes (stay tuned for the next chapter), but I can hope that the disappearance of the tracks I once followed is part of my Father in heaven's plan for me, and that the next opportunity I stumble upon as I wander in the wilderness without purpose is similarly contrived to aid the Lord's work.

ME&C: Solitude and Madness (Mosiah 21)

Reading this chapter tonight, I was struck with the insanity of Limhi's people. Despite being outnumbered and outmaneuvered, they attack a larger and entrenched enemy not once, but three times, driven by some inexplicable madness. As I continued to read, I caught a glimpse of what made them go through with their bloody farce of desperate revenge.

Imagine hearing from a band of men you've sent to find your long lost cousins, the only people in the entire world who might hear of your plight, identify with your cause, and come to your rescue, that nothing remains of your one hope against an all-encompassing solitude except "a land which was covered in bones" (v. 26). How quickly must the adversary have darkened the minds of Limhi's poor people! If the great and powerful Zarahemla is no more, than what could possibly be left for a beaten and chained city?

In chapter 11, two generations earlier, Zeniff's people had restored and prospered in two cities (Shilom and Lehi-Nephi). At this point in chapter 21, between wars, internecine squabbles, and desertion, Limhi's people do their best to band together in one, unspecified settlement. And so, my rough math tells me that Limhi's people were half as numerous as Zeniff's.

Imagine a couple who lived at the time of Zeniff. They had 4 kids, and their 4 kids had 4 kids, bringing the total family tree to 22 (not including 2nd and 3rd generation spouses). By the time chapter 21 rolls around, only 1 member is left.

Between the deaths of family members ("the widow mourning for her husband, the son and the daughter mourning for their father, and the brothers for their brethren") and the news of no friendly community on the other side of the jungle, a feeling of absolute loneliness surely sank into their hearts.

I know a little of that dark solitude. My work often has me travel, and while I do my best to spend time with coworkers, our divergent standards inevitably lead to me spending much of my evenings alone in hotel rooms. More often than not, I play the radio and turn on the TV just to hear human voices. I thrive on companionship. So it is no surprise that in those evenings of solitude, I am at my weakest. It is in those evenings that seeing my wife and daughter on video chat (a perfectly timed technological miracle) or grabbing dinner with a friend who lives in town is a precious countervailing force against the shadow of oblivion.

So I understand, to some small degree, the lonely despair that drives people to irrational actions, and I can understand the excitement Limhi and his people felt in learning of Zarahemla's continued existence. And since the scripture tells us that this good news came only a short time after the prior news of societal solitude, I think we have to chalk up some credit to the mercy apparent in the Lord's timing.

ME&C: The Value of Life (Mosiah 20)

In two separate instances, the people of Limhi show how much they value life.

The first instance is typical. When confronted with the immediate danger of an invading army, these people fought "like dragons" to preserve the lives of the innocent (v. 11).

More interesting to me is the second instance which occurs when the king of the invading army has fallen into Limhi's hands. Gideon counsels Limhi to humble himself before the invading king and establish peace again. Not only is it admirable that Limhi refrains from vengeful execution, especially after the Lamanites broke the peace treaty without warning and killed many of Limhi's people, but it is also admirable how Gideon explains the preeminence of preserving life above most else.

"And now let us pacify the king, and we fulfil the oath which we have made unto him; for it is better that we should be in bondage than that we should lose our lives; therefore, let us put a stop to the shedding of so much blood" (v. 22).

Gideon displays a wisdom that counterbalances his anger in chapter 19. Life is more precious than glory, pride, or wealth. It is more important than honors, revenge, or satisfaction. Life is the moment in which, as Amulek will teach the next generation of Nephites, we prepare to meet god. Snuffing our or other's lives out prematurely in the pursuit of some moral high ground or global hegemony is a most serious crime, for we cut our brothers' and sisters' precious time short.

Keeping in mind that any ideological bent can find phrasing in scripture to support a particular world view, I have to make the point here that verses like this confirm my belief in pacifism. I abhor the amount of blood shed by my country to prove a point that, so far, remains unproven, chasing a shadow enemy across the lives, livelihoods, and souls of both innocent and guilty. It sickens and worries me, for we know what happens to those who live by the sword.

We are not even close to being in bondage, and yet we rain fire from the sky, and if children die, at least we can say they were within the limits of acceptable collatoral damage. I'll cut my rant short by posting a paragraph from a June 1976 talk by President Spencer W. Kimball. You can read the full text of his remarks  here.

We are a warlike people, easily distracted from our assignment of preparing for the coming of the Lord. When enemies rise up, we commit vast resources to the fabrication of gods of stone and steel—ships, planes, missiles, fortifications—and depend on them for protection and deliverance. When threatened, we become antienemy instead of pro-kingdom of God; we train a man in the art of war and call him a patriot, thus, in the manner of Satan’s counterfeit of true patriotism, perverting the Savior’s teaching:

“Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you;

“That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven.” (Matt. 5:44–45.)

ME&C: Principles of Organizational Decay (Mosiah 19)

In my last post, I briefly explored the principles that Alma laid out as requisite to restore the power and authority lost as a result of the apostasy during Noah's (and to some extent, Zeniff's) reign.

Many of these principles were set forth to ensure integrity in the church's leadership so that the people's confidence in their leaders would never waver.

King Noah's actions (and those of his closest followers) succintly illustrate the poisonous leadership that will cause any organization, from kingdom to church to corporation, to decay. I'll highlight just a few that stand out.

1. Requiring more than you give in return: King Noah takes from those he manages, rather than making sure he gives them at least as much in return. His policies are unpopular enough that he needs to ensure compliance with force. As soon as the army begins to wear thin (v. 2), division erupts.
• On an interesting sidenote, the scripture never explains why "the forces of the king were small, having been reduced," but a combination of desertion associated with Alma's exodus and budget cutbacks seems a perfect storm that would fit with the story.
2. Running from important and urgent problems: Taking an idea from Stephen Covey's priority quadrants, King Noah ignores the very area that should be his focus. Rather than standing fast and meeting the threat of Lamanite invasion, he runs. Both a managerial and tactical mistake, as regaining an abandoned position is much more costly than fighting to keep it in the first place.
3. Making decisions with selfish motives and encouraging those closest to you to do the same: When women and children slow King Noah's retreat, he orders them abandoned. Those closest to him obey, sacrificing the long-term good (and moral decency) for the exigencies of self preservation. In the end, Noah preserves his life for a few moments, but destroys the credibility and souls of his inner cadre forever.

Most importantly, poisonous leadership does not stop with the death/assassination/exile/sacking of the poisonous leader. The effects recur with such frequency that only a visionary leader with a motivated following can work to reset cultural rules. Which just happens to be the way God works.

ME&C: Principles of Organizational Power (Mosiah 18)

The Doctrinal Commentary on the Book of Mormon makes the case that, although Alma leads a renewal of faith among King Noah's people, he already held the priesthood at the time of the moving scene by the waters of Mormon.

But while the church existed, the power and authority from God did not, which explains why the terms "power and authority" are used so often in the chapters of Abinadi's and Alma's teachings.

This changes the way I read the verses that follow the (re?)baptism of 204 souls by the waters of Mormon. These verses lay down the guidelines Alma enforced to ensure the renewal of faith in the church and a restoration of the power and authority among the people.

Briefly, they are broken down into commandments for church leaders and commandments for the general membership.

For church leaders:
1. Teach only scripture
2. Connect everything back to faith and repentance
3. Allow no contention among the leadership

For all church members:
1. Observe the sabbath
2. Keep the leaders honest and hard-working by ensuring they remain self-sufficient
3. Be generous and give to all those in need

The simplicity and cohesion of these commandments fascinates me (and pondering it has prevented me from writing this post for at least a week).

The members' commandments ensure that they live with compassion (#3) so that when they meet together (#1), they are in tune with the Holy Spirit and can learn from leaders whose integrity cannot be questioned (#2).

The leaders' commandments ensure that the messages they preach to the membership are not tainted with pride and self-service, but rather focused on the simple steps of discipleship.

While Christ cut the commandments down to two in his ministry, I think Alma's application of the two great commandments to real life exigencies deserves further study, thought, and application in my life.

ME&C: Concealed Writing (Mosiah 17)

I have lived the past few weeks in a transitory state—no stable home to use as a retreat against the chaos of conflict, difficulty, and disappointment that has defined the month of February.

In Mosiah 17, Alma, the sole member of Abinadi’s courtly audience to listen to the powerful testimony of the Holy Spirit, pleads with and then flees the outraged, murderous reaction of King Noah. He undoubtedly had much on his mind.

After making good in his getaway, “he being concealed for many days did write all the words which Abinadi had spoken” (v. 4).

There is significant power in solitude, and that power increases when channeled through writing. This is not a new revelation. How many students of English have read Virginia Woolf’s “A Room of One’s Own” and been swayed to her argument by the instinctive yearning for a quiet place with plenty of pens and paper to swallow the ceaseless murmurings of their souls?

Someday soon, I look forward to retiring to my concealed place—a smallish apartment with my wife and daughter—where I can briefly conceal myself from the world and reflect on this month’s events. Until then, I can only marvel at the greatness born of Alma’s days of concealed writing. Using whatever writing implement he had at hand, Alma digested, memorized, reconstituted, and made Abinadi’s words sing, giving them life through his spiritual birth as a living disciple of Christ. Alma emerged from his concealment transformed from a flunky in a court of lies into a patient and far-seeing prophet.

I look forward to seeing what transformation in outlook and opinion my future days of concealment bring.

ME&C: Eternal Life (Mosiah 16)

After working long hours and facing the prospect of working many more before the week is out, I had little inclination to read the Book of Mormon, let alone think about it with enough focus to post about it.

But one verse has been a source of strength for me over the past couple days.

"He is the light and the life of the world; yea, a light that is endless, that can never be darkened; yea and also a life which is endless, that there can be no more death." (v. 9)

In Doctrine & Covenants, we learn that endless punishment does not mean punishment without end, but rather God's punishment, as God is endless.

So following that same logic, Christ has a light that is God's and a life that is God's. And because Christ has taken upon him a celestial life, there can be no more death. The possibility of eternal life ends death's hold.

A simple yet profound truth that is the capstone of Abinadi's sermon.

ME&C: The Power of Submission (Mosiah 15)

Remember Abinadi's sidestep in chapter 12? Now that he's built some momentum, he turns the verses quoted to him by Noah's priests into a culmination of his prophetic message--peace can only be preached by those who submitting their will to the Father and follow his Son.

Spoiler alert: the priests don't stack up so well.

I've never studied Abinadi's address so carefully, and it's a masterpiece of oratory and intricate theology. But of course I'm going to talk about only the tiniest part.

I alluded to this above, but the act of submission has no equal when it comes to spiritual empowerment. To a large degree, I speak from theory and observation, not practice.

Speaking of Christ: "...he shall be led, crucified, and slain, the flesh becoming subject even unto death, the will of the Son being swallowed up in the will of the Father. And thus God breaketh the bands of death..." (v. 7-8).

Christ's submission of his will to the Father's resulted in the bands of death being broken. That's a big deal!

I'm at a juncture in my life where things may work out exactly like I'd hoped, or they may veer off into the unknown. I hope I have the courage to follow Christ in submitting my will to follow my Heavenly Father's purpose regardless of the events that transpire in the next six months.

ME&C: The Allure of the Ugly (Mosiah 14)

Good thing the theme of this blog series is "Marginalia, Ephemera, and Commentary." Otherwise, I might feel bad concentrating on such a small part of the majestic Isaiah 53, quoted in this chapter by Abinadi.

I've recently been contemplating my career and life goals. As I apply to numerous prestigious programs in the hopes of once again immersing myself in the study of literature, I've had to think long and hard about the real purpose behind its study (and the study of all humanities, really).

One common thread of thought concerning the study of the humanities and the arts is that we study them to learn more about beauty so that we can increase beauty's presence in the world. While that may be a good reason for some folks, part of verse 2 from this chapter underscores why it's not a good reason for me.

Describing Christ: "...he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him there is no beauty that we should desire him."

My interpretation of this scripture has always been that Christ was not visibly recognizable as the Only Begotten Son of God. You couldn't see "Messiah" in his biceps or "prophet" in his chiseled visage. And since we're talking about Isaiah here, my interpretation is as good as most folks, so we'll keep moving in that direction. :)

If I focus my life on seeking after the outwardly beautiful, I will waste my years without getting any close to Christ (and notice the "I"s in those statement--they're not meant to be categorical).

Dave, how do you figure that? Christ is in the beautiful, too!

That's absolutely true. But here's my reasoning. While beauty may please my senses and my spirit, ugliness, pain, and sin are the wages the world must overcome to return to our Father in heaven.

In this chapter, Christ receives "a portion with the great...because he hath poured out his soul unto death; and he was numbered with the transgressors; and he bore the sins of many, and made intercession for the transgressors" (v. 12).

Christ was great because the "knowledge" he gained through his great and unique sacrifice did "justify many" before the judgment seat (v. 11). He gained that knowledge by descending below all, incurring the griefs, bruises, and stripes alluded to in this chapter.

And so, while this post may haunt me in the aftermath of 7 potential rejection letters, I can't help but pour out my own soul in the study of the ugly, the painful, and the sinful. In studying the painful words of the downtrodden and the ugly words of the haughty, I can better understand the sin that results from both, and therefore better succor the sinner (and better chart my own path to salvation with fear and trembling).

Studying these things is one small way I attempt to follow in Christ's footsteps and catch a glimmer of his supreme sympathy. One small method of discipleship peculiar to my own disposition.

Rather than beauty, I seek the transcendent. Transcendence comes only in the midst of trial and tribulation. And so I bid beauty adieu, wishing her well, and jump earnestly into the midst of the world's despair.

ME&C: Wonder, Amazement, and Anger (Mosiah 13)

Abinadi describes a potent mix of emotions as he describes King Noah's court's reaction to the initial part of his sermon.

"Yea, and my words fill you with wonder and amazement, and with anger." (v. 8).

There are very few times in my life that I've simultaneously felt wonder, amazement, and anger. Sitting in my 12th grade English class on September 11 watching the footage of the World Trade Center. Reading about the Newtown, CT shootings. And some of the like.

I've wracked my brain for most of the day to come up with a situation where I've felt those three emotions that didn't revolve around senseless violence committed against innocents, to no avail.

I think the Lord and his prophets feel those same emotions when confronted with the widespread evil in the world. When I'm confronted with evil in less concentrated or less dramatic forms, I often feel amazement ("How could they be so stupid?") or anger ("How could they do that!?"), but I rarely feel wonder. Amazement results when players in a game do something we didn't think possible. Wonder occurs when the players transcend the possibilities of what we thought possible.

For King Noah's priests, amazement comes from the audacity of Abinadi's message and his courage standing firm even after the king has decreed his death. Anger comes from the accusations of incompetence, treachery, and priestcraft.

Wonder, though, is the most telling emotion. It is the result of the Holy Spirit not whispering, but roaring that what Abinadi says is not only true, but a direct message from deity. The eternal perspective that the Spirit forces through the fog of the priests' iniquity requires them to confront their deeds in a new, stark light that cannot be denied.

With the light of eternal perspective, that status quo is no longer tenable. The game has changed, and the priests have one last chance to choose the side of good or evil.

ME&C: Abinadi, Master of Disguise (Mosiah 12)

First, one of my favorite "funny" bits in the scriptures.

In verse 1: "And it came to pass that after the space of two years that Abinadi came among them in disguise, that they knew him not, and began to prophesy among them, saying: Thus has the Lord commanded me, saying--Abinadi, go and prophesy..." (emphasis added)

Looks like Abinadi's strengths lay more in his powerful preaching than in his powers of disguise. I know I'm not to only one to have seen this, but it still cracks me up.

Reading the rest of this chapter, though, I'm more inclined to think verse 1 reveals Abinadi as a type of Christ rather  than a camouflage-challenged prophet. Christ was hidden in plain sight for 30 years of his life. People had to have known whispers and rumors about his birth and the peculiarities of his youth, but they chose to do nothing. When Jesus started proclaiming himself the Son of God, he might have surprised some Galileans and Judeans, but there was probably a sizable population whose surprise was feigned.

I think the same thing happened with Abinadi. There were likely folks who recognized Abinadi, but they probably hoped his "foolishness" was no longer a problem and that he was skulking back to their glorious civilization to take his place in a royally-appointed tax bracket.

Along those same lines, I always take great pleasure in trying understand the why behind some of the tricks the scholars and priests of Jesus' time tried to play on him. Why did they quote that particular scripture? Why was this question a trap?

For some reason, though, I've never asked why the priests of King Noah quoted Isaiah 52 to Abinadi to test his prophetic credentials:

"And it came to pass that one of them said unto him: What meaneth the words which are written, and which have been taught by our fathers, saying:

How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings; that publisheth peace; that bringeth good tidings of good; that publisheth salvation; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reighneth

Thy watchmen shall lift up the voice; with the voice together shall they sing; for they shall see eye to eye when the Lord shall bring again Zion;

Break forth into joy; sing together ye waste places of Jerusalem; for the Lord hath comforted his people, he hath redeemed Jerusalem; 

The Lord hath made bare his holy arm in the eyes of all the nations, and all the ends of the earth shall see the the salvation of God?" (v. 20-24)

So the priests are saying that, according to scripture, prophets bring happy news that unites rather than divides. Real prophets sing songs of joy, for after all, all shall see salvation and Jerusalem is already redeemed. Our society is great and righteous, and yet you come preaching fire and brimstone, trying to rile up the contented masses. Therefore, you are not a great prophet.

King Noah's priests attempt to wrench the context of these verses to transform them into a trap. If Abinadi interprets the scripture, contention will arise, and the priests' interpretation of the scripture will allow them to discredit Abinadi.

But Abinadi doesn't fall for the trap.  Instead, he says, "Are you priests, and pretend to teach this people, and to understand the spirit of prophesying, and yet ye desire to know of me what these things mean?" (v. 25).

Shrewd sidestep, and the only way Abinadi succeeds in continuing his message without a bout of exegetical contention that would send the discussion on an irrecoverable tangent.

Looks like Abinadi was crafty after all.

ME&C: A Deliberate Savior (Mosiah 11)

As things go downhill for the people of Zeniff (now ruled by Zeniff's son, King Noah), an intriguing prophet begins to cry repentance using no uncertain terms.

In the midst of his preaching, Abinadi uses a phrase that used to trouble me. In repeating the words of the Lord, Abinadi says the following about the efficacy of the people's prayers once they get around to repenting:

"Yea, and it shall come to pass that when they shall cry unto me I will be slow to hear their cries..." (v. 24)

One of the many delightful episodes of The Office involves the character Michael Scott dressing up as Jesus to out-Christmas a coworker dressed as Santa. Things, as they so often do when Michael is competing for affection and attention, spiral out of control, and Michael-as-Jesus heckles the office Christmas party. One of the lines that always strikes me occurs when Michael, now dressed in sweatpants and over his mood swing, declines to take responsibility for the emotional havoc he's caused:

"That was a different guy. That was Jesus. Jesus sort of ruined the party. Hurt, petulant Jesus."

I remember laughing so hard because of how absurd the staccato phrase "hurt, petulant Jesus" seemed to me. But read at face value, this verse from Abinadi's sermon seems to imply that if we sin, Jesus will plug his ears and petulantly pretend to not hear our cries until he's decided we're invited back to his birthday party.

And that's what troubled me.

Luckily, using a little tool called "ze cross reference" I read the 10th Psalm where the psalmist asks the Lord how much longer he will hide his face and allow the wicked to abuse this world. Reading that psalm and the other cross-referenced passages, I came to the understanding that the Lord is always slow to hear our cries --at least from our perspective.

Instead of the word "slow," I think deliberate better captures this sense. When I hold the door open for someone carrying loads of boxes, I'm not immediately blessed by the visitation of angels. When I trip that same person as he passes through the door, I'm not immediately smitten.

The Lord doesn't petulantly drag his feet, but rather strides ever forward with measured and wise steps. He acts when it's appropriate and isn't swayed by convenient changes of heart. I think that understanding lends greater intensity to Abinadi's initial sermon.

ME&C: Stereotypes and Mediocrity (Mosiah 10)

To pump his people up before another bloody battle with invading Lamanites, Zeniff stands before his people and uses the same strategies that have been used for thousands of years in preparation for conflict--he dehumanizes their adversary to make it easier to look them in the eye and shed their blood. He even does so by telling his people about the stereotypes that all Lamanites believe that in turn cause them to dehumanize the Nephites.

Dizzy yet?

One of the most effective comes at the end of Zeniff's invective ("they" refers to Lamanites, "them" to Nephites): "...they have taught their children that they should hate them, and that they should murder them, and that they should rob and plunder them, and do all they could to destroy them..." (v. 17). 

Even the children are poisoned against us! Zeniff has come a long way from sabotaging a Nephite war expedition because he wanted to enter into peace talks with the Lamanites. Something tells me that the fireside family chats he talks about above were not the aspects of Lamanite culture he found so endearing 30 years earlier.I also doubt Zeniff had spent much time observing Lamanite parents teaching their children. He was pretty busy running a frontier community and being a demi-king.

Are there bits of truth wound up in this? Absolutely. But Zeniff's statements about the Lamanites as a people ignore the nuance and complexity endemic to a single person's experience, let alone an entire society's.

Dehumanizing stereotypes are most easily spotted in hindsight, and they are not the sole province of the past. But I think that's the point. These two posts I've written in Zeniff don't cast him in the nicest light, but it's my belief that Zeniff, Noah (whom we'll meet shortly), and Limhi form a three generation trifecta of imperfect leadership to contrast sharply with the inspired leadership of King Benjamin and Alma, whose accounts book-end the sad tale of Zeniff's people.

Zeniff isn't as immediately off-putting as a Sherem or Nehor (sorry for all the name dropping), but deep reading reveals a story of warning and uninspired leadership just as important to learn from as the warnings of Jacob 7 or Alma 1.

ME&C: Slanted Narrative (Mosiah 9)

One of my favorite Emily Dickinson poems is "Tell All the Truth."

Tell all the truth but tell it slant,
Success in circuit lies,
Too bright for our infirm delight
The truth's superb surprise;

As lightning to the children eased
With explanation kind,
The truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind.      

I don't think it's blasphemous to believe that parts of the Book of Mormon aren't quite telling 100% of the truth. In fact, the title page written by the prophet Moroni admits as much, saying "And now, if there are faults they are the mistakes of men; wherefore, condemn not the things of God..." In  other words, men wrote these records and were subject to all the imperfections suffered by men from time immemorial. That doesn't mean we cast the baby out with the bath water, though. The truths from God contained in this book are still precious and numerous.

Chapter 9 of the Book of Mosiah takes us on a time warp back to the time of Limhi's grandfather, Zeniff, but I have a hard time believing 100% of what our friend Zeniff says. Both the beginning and the end of the chapter are perfect examples of victors writing history.

Zeniff was a spy in the Nephite army, sent out to identify Lamanite weaknesses that could be exploited in an attack.

"...but when I saw that which was good among them I was desirous that they should not be destroyed. Therefore, I contended with my brethren in the wilderness, for I would that our ruler should make a treaty with them; but he being an austere and a blood-thirsty man commanded that I should be slain; but I was rescued by the shedding of much blood...until the greater number of our army was destroyed in the wilderness..." (v. 1-2).

Zeniff makes it back, though, to relate the why and how of a massacre where not a single enemy unsheathed a sword or fletched an arrow.

Maybe it happened like that. Methinks we're missing a key component of the story.

That feeling is exacerbated by the death toll in a later battle with the Lamanites.

Lamanite dead: 3043
Nephite dead: 279

Maybe he learned to count casualties from U.S. central command in Vietnam, but that sounds a little like propaganda, especially when, unlike other times, the Nephites had no real technological advantage.

Why is this important? It's not, really. Despite his slanted truth, Zeniff succeeds in relating his history in a way that can be applied to our lives today. But the biggest lesson I learn from Zeniff in this chapter is that all stories are told from imperfect memories using imperfect words and imperfect tongues. I can embrace the lessons learned from Zeniff without staking my family's honor to the truthfulness of his every word.

ME&C: The Fullness Trap (Mosiah 8)

I often think there's a curse of arrogance that accompanies any group of people convinced they have all of something. All the gold, all the ability, all the knowledge.

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints professes to have received, directly from our Father in heaven via modern day prophets, a "fulness of the gospel". In other words, all the truths that are required to teach men and women the way to salvation. I believe this is 100% true.

However, members of the Church's cultural community often interpret "fulness of the gospel" as "all the truth about God, his plan, and his actions." This is demonstrably false, as you will find for yourself if you ask anyone, from the prophet to your Mormon neighbor, hard questions about life. They can give you answers with a lot of truth...but they can't tell you why all things are the way the are.

I see this same curse manifest in Limhi's discourse throughout the chapters of the Book of Mormon that portray him and his people. Case in point--one of the more awkward exchanges in scripture.

Ammon from Zarahemla is talking about how King Mosiah, back home, has been given power from God to interpret languages that no one else can interpret. This power from God qualifies him as a "seer" or one who sees things beyond the ken of normal human ability.

"And the king said that a seer is greater than a prophet.
And Ammon said that a seer is a revelator and a prophet also..." (15-16)

Limhi doesn't try to interrupt Ammon again.

There examples in these chapters that show that Limhi is trying his darnedest to be a righteous man. He quotes scripture; he teaches his people in front of the temple. At the core he really is a good man and a good king.

But he doesn't know everything. As soon as he turns his king voice on and starts making pronouncements, conflating his thoughts with the Lord's thoughts, Ammon shoots him down. He does it with tact, but his answer is also saying, "You don't really get it, so I'll teach you."

My experiences have taught me very intimately what answers the truth revealed in the Church has (and does not have), so I no longer tend towards this mistake when it comes to theology. But I make it all the time in other realms (parenting, marriage, work, blogging, etc.).

So the lesson from Limhi is: know what you know, know what you don't know, and if it's worth learning, shut up and listen.

ME&C: Negotiating Race (Mosiah 7)

One of the greatest tests of my faith involved the seemingly racist bent of the Book of Mormon. For those unfamiliar with the book, a quick explanation:

A prophet named Lehi takes his family and neighbors away from Jerusalem before its destruction at the hands of Babylon around 600 B.C.E. The community thrives upon its arrival in the Western Hemisphere, but after Lehi's death, the family splits. One branch following one of Lehi's sons, Nephi, takes the holy scriptures brought from Jerusalem and takes off in the night. For the first couple hundred years, this branch does a decent job of maintaining righteousness with the help of lots of prophets. The other branch, led by another of Lehi's sons (Laman), doesn't fare so well, and their society quickly degenerates, always hating Nephi and his descendants for what was stolen.

That doesn't seem racist, right? Except for this. After the split of the two peoples, Nephi records the following:

"And he had caused the cursing to come upon them, yea, even a sore cursing, because of their iniquity. For behold, they had hardened their hearts against him, that they had become like unto a flint; wherefore, as they were white, and exceedingly fair and delightsome, that they might not be enticing unto my people the Lord God did cause a skin of blackness to come upon them." (2 Nephi 5:21).

Yikes. I don't believe in a literal acceptance of this verse. I don't believe dark skin to be curse. I don't believe God ever darkened anyone's skin to punish them. Dark skin is neither ugly nor inferior. In God's perfect eyes, it's just skin.  Any other meaning ascribed thereto is just us being imperfect.

Instead, I believe in a figurative interpretation of this verse that uses skin as a metaphor for appearance. I read it like this: God allowed their appearance to change in some way that the evil in their hearts was also visibly manifest in their appearance. Whether a cultural marking, a tattoo, or the physical dissolution that accompanies a dissolute lifestyle, the Lamanites' disobedience led to some kind of barrier between them and the Nephites. The fact that Lamanites were always trying kill Nephites (and vice versa) probably contributed more to that division than physical appearance. But the Lamanites weren't black. And the Nephites sure as heck weren't Caucasian. They were the same race.

Note that I'm not saying the verse was mistranslated. The translation came from God through the Prophet Joseph Smith. However, the easy literal reading of this verse, which the Church's culture has accepted unthinkingly for far too long, has caused a great amount of evil and hurt in this world.

This was mostly a long preamble to explain that I have spent many years reading the Book of Mormon to find textual evidence in support of my interpretation. That evidence is of two kinds. The first demonstrates the impossibility of vast racial difference between peoples in early America. The second demonstrates the likelihood of my interpretation of skin as a metaphor for appearance.

This chapter has some of the first kind. If Nephites were white and Lamanites black, then enemies in this Manichean power dynamic would be easily recognizable. And yet, when Ammon the explorer meets King Limhi outside the city walls (both Nephites), Limhi is startled and caught off guard. He orders Ammon and his comrades (ostensibly a bunch of fellow white guys that he should have racially recognized as his skin-tagged allies) bound and almost sentences them to death without another thought.

The only reason they're spared is because, as Limhi says, "I desire to know the cause whereby ye were so bold as to come near the walls of the city when I, myself, was with my guards without the gate?" (v. 10)

Not an earth-shattering addition to my quest. But worthwhile in its little way.

ME&C: Non-burdensome Leadership (Mosiah 6)

Like his father before him, King Mosiah makes a point in the records to note that he "did till the earth, that thereby he might not become burdensome to his people..." (v. 7)

Both Benjamin, Mosiah, and (later) Alma make this point, which leads me to believe that they were the exception rather than the rule in their community's governmental history.

What is a burdensome leader? I've been in situations of leadership from time to time in church, work, or school. At church, my preoccupation with avoiding burdensome leadership often caused me to lead (and therefore do) little. I was afraid the activities or processes I implemented would be a burden to those whom I temporarily looked after.

But I don't think that's the message here. 

At work, I've learned a little more about burdensome leadership. There are some leaders who simply delegate everything. They sit back and watch as each gear performs its task, confident that they are expert examples of managerial leadership since the mechanism runs so well. What happens, though, is that they learn little by watching others work. They lose knowledge; they lose the edge of expertise that placed them in a position of leadership in the first place. Those they lead begin to resent this leader who asks his team to perform relatively easy tasks that should really be done by the leader. The leader becomes more and more useless, the team members more and more disenchanted, and dysfunction is born.

Other leaders, non-burdensome leaders, take a different approach. They see themselves as an integral part of the team. They may not master every task, but they become well-acquainted with it. They take on new, visionary tasks; sometimes keeping them, sometimes delegating them to a team member who can or will learn to perform them better than the leader could. The non-burdensome leader makes sure that if there's something she can do to make her team members' lives a little easier, she's doing it. And more than anything else, this kind of leader always makes sure she's doing something to help further the team's goals and well-being.

There are opportunities I have to be a non-burdensome leader at work and in church, but I think the most important opportunity is at home. I would like to become a less burdensome husband. I'm sure the Mrs. has a nice list of ways I could jump in and "till the earth." And hopefully, that experience will prepare me to become that rare breed--a non-burdensome father.

ME&C: Disposition (Mosiah 5)

At the end of King Benjamin's address, he does very few speakers today do--he finds out if they get it.

They got it.

"They all cried with one voice saying: Yea, we believe all the words which thou hast spoken unto us; and also, we know of their surety and truth, because of the Spirit of the Lord Omnipotent, which as wrought a mighty change in us, or in our hearts, that we have no more disposition to do evil, but to do good continually." (v. 2)

This verse has alternately inspired, tormented, and puzzled me.

How can I get to that same point, a point where I will have no more disposition to do evil, but to do good continually?

In dark times, I have used that phrase as a mantra, repeating these words under my breath to fight off temptation and remember the joy the comes from living the right way.

In darker times, when I have sinned or hurt another, the phrase is a bitter reminder that my disposition is still, sometimes, to do evil. A reminder that I still don't quite grasp the possibilities of the Atonement.

In neutral and good times, I am in awe of the prospect of a disposition that seeks to do good continually. I've met several people like this in my life. They usually are no more that acquaintances (or old friends who have since become acquaintances), since the evil part of my disposition precludes the friendly intimacy that results from doing good in the world together.

Instead, I watch them from afar, basking in their goodness, sometimes yearning to be like them, other times finding their rigid goodness overbearing or pompous. I am not equating rigid goodness with dogmatism, conservatism, or unthinking zealotry. Rather, rigid goodness is a thoughtful and compassionate obedience to all commandments, but especially to those that teach us to love and serve all around us.

That rigidity of purpose and standard is galling to the world in general, but refreshing to its inhabitants. "Therefore, I would that ye should be steadfast and immovable, always abounding in good works..." (v. 15).

In the clinical world, a clinical disposition is what a medical provider determines to be your next steps. For example, if you go to the emergency room, you hope that (after 5 hours of tests) the doctor assigns you a disposition of "discharge" so you can go home rather "admission" or "transfer to psych". It has a sense of inevitability to it.

I want to inevitably be a good servant of the Lord. But I've got a few more tests before the Great Healer assigns my spiritual disposition.

ME&C: The Beggar's Mandate (Mosiah 4)

"Are we not all beggars?"

Chapter 4 gets down to the nitty gritty of living worthy of Christ's atoning gift.

"...for the sake of retaining a remission of your sins from day to day, that ye may walk guiltless before God--I would that ye should impart of your substance to the poor, every man according to that which he hath, such as feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and administering to their relief, both spiritually and temporally, according to their wants" (4:26; emphasis added).

Kindness and charity towards our fellow travelers is the only way to know God and fully understand and leverage Christ's atonement.

Unless we do so every day,  we stand condemned. We may try to explain away King Benjamin's counsel or delude ourselves into thinking that the poor among us are doing alright, but doing so only blocks our spiritual progression.

What's more, King Benjamin specifically calls out service to strangers, eviscerating the oft-thought excuse: "My service is to my family. That service satisfies this commandment." Wrong. While family is the most important thing, giving our substance to those we love is no great test.

I'm often struck by some folks' resistance to these clarion calls of service, but I've never been bold enough to speak up. So, this preachy post is my start.

Parenthetically, this teaching (and many others like it) is a key reason behind the secular leaders I support and the political and cultural views I espouse. I believe the gospel of Jesus Christ requires us to give to and look out for those who cannot fend for themselves, whether that inability is due to poorly made decisions, physical impediment, socio-economic situation or anything else. We are all brothers and sisters, children of the same God.

We must lift each other up.

ME&C: Incremental Obedience (Mosiah 3)

A striking transition in this chapter linking King Benjamin's description of Christ to the power of his Atonement occurs in verse 12:

"But wo, wo unto him who knoweth that he rebelleth against God! For salvation cometh to none such except it be through repentance and faith on the Lord Jesus Christ."

There are so many beautiful lessons throughout this discourse that the discordant reality of sin that King Benjamin rehearses multiple times is easily forgotten or read over quickly. I remember reading the Book of Mormon with folks in Italy and trying to get them to focus on the bits about service, Christ's life, or charity rather than the bits about torment as a lake of fire and brimstone whose flames are unquenchable (v. 27).

But sin merits discussion--especially the sin indicated here. Do I knowingly rebel against God? Do you? You might initially say yes, but if we were asked in the midst of our sinning whether we were working counter to the Lord, we would likely shrug, shake our head, or dismiss the idea.

When I make mistakes or do things I know I shouldn't, I usually justify it to myself that God doesn't really care about what I'm doing. Angry, lustful, sarcastic,  or materialistic thoughts don't hurt anyone as long as they remain thoughts. He doesn't care if I watch something a little vulgar, leave someone in need for the next passerby to help, or "forget" to pray as long as I do some good deed, help the next guy, or pray harder tomorrow to balance my ledger.

In my experience, these small things are the most important. In order to know we rebel against God we must also know when we serve him. And that second type of knowledge which we use to delineate the first only comes when we make small, personal decisions to do right. Does this righteous striving raise the stakes and increase the penalty for disobedience? Absolutely. But consider the alternative.

Without knowing when we are serving him, we only think, believe, or conjecture that we could be rebelling against God. We have no emblazoned spiritual memory of immistakeable blessing with which to compare our current state. Without that certainty, we are doomed to spiritual mediocrity as we muddy the waters of life's decisions with our willful ignorance.

ME&C: Avoiding Justifiable Pride (Mosiah 2)

An old woman once told me the story of Simeon. Simeon the Nephite wasn't particularly charismatic or popular. He lived with his small family on the frontiers of Nephite civilization, and he was among the last to hear the summons to come hear the prophet King Benjamin's final sermon. Seeing as how final sermons tend to be profound, Simeon packed up his wife and kids, hoping desperately that a Lamanite raiding party wouldn't make off with all his worldly possessions while he was away.

When Simeon arrived at Zarahemla, the place was packed. People everywhere. The summons had said that Benjamin would give his address at the temple, so Simeon and his family started to make their way in that direction. They quickly found, however, that the temple was full and that the rest of the Nephite community was pitching their tents outside the temple walls. Rumors spread that the brethren were quickly building a tower so Benjamin could speak to all.

Simeon didn't know the city very well; he didn't know of any prime spot known only to a few. He followed the ever-lengthening line away from the temple and finally found a spot from which he could just see the rising tower coming over the temple walls.

Being a faithful subject, Simeon pitched his tent in the direction of the temple. He had faith that he too could hear the word of the Lord delivered by His prophet.

And then King Benjamin opened his mouth (in Mosiah 2:8): "And it came to pass that he began to speak to his people from the tower; and they could not all hear his words because of the greatness of the multitude; therefore he caused that the words which he spake should be written and sent forth among those that were not under the sound of his voice, that they might also receive his words."

Simeon sat for hours, facing the temple, waiting for his turn to hear the word of God.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Now, that story is entirely fabricated. Simeon does not appear in the Book of Mormon. But someone like him existed. Someone who traveled long, got bumped to the back of the line, and then had to wait in the back to read the most powerful sermon of his generation. He heard the fervor of the crowd's reaction recorded in Mosiah 5. Or perhaps she felt the electricity of excitement. Or he had to wait in line to read (or be read to) words which those in front had snapped up with zeal.

I don't know what I would have done in Simeon's shoes. Would I have grumbled and left? I hope not. Because that would have been a tell-tale sign of vicious pride in my heart that told me, "You're better than those folks up front. You've worked harder, traveled longer, and been more faithful than that lot. If the sermon is for them, you have nothing to wait around for."

Had I left, I would have missed the gem from King Benjamin's speech that has stuck with me the longest, a gem that does nothing if not eviscerate prideful sentiment:

"I say, if ye should serve him [the Lord] with all your whole souls yet ye would be unprofitable servants...And now, in the first place he hath created you, and granted unto you your lives, for which ye are indebted unto him. And secondly, he doth require that ye should do as he hath commanded you; for which if ye do, he doth immediately bless you; and therefore he hath paid you. And ye are still indebted unto him, and are, and will be, forever and ever; therefore, of what have ye to boast?" (Mosiah 2:21, 23-24)

ME&C: The Mercy of God's Foresight (Mosiah 1)

I chose to start my study of the Book of Mormon in the chronological order in which it was translated. After an initial portion of the book was lost/stolen by some of Joseph Smith's friends and enemies, he continued translation from where he left off.

The loss of the 116 manuscript pages of the original Book of Lehi was a devastating blow to Joseph and a major hiccup in his relationship with the Lord. And initiating the translation again with the first chapter of the Book of Mosiah probably didn't ease the guilt any.

In this chapter, King Benjamin extols the value of holy scripture to his sons. Here are some highlights:

In verse 3: "My sons, I would that ye should remember that were it not for these plates [scriptures were written on metal plates], which contain these records and these commandments, we must have suffered in ignorance, even at this present time, not knowing the mysteries of God."

In verse 4: "For it were not possible that our father, Lehi, could have remembered all these things, to have taught them to his children, except it were for the help of these plates..."

Now, imagine you're Joseph Smith. You have been called as a prophet of restoration to bring back lost truth to the world. You've been given plates of gold that contain a prophetic "greatest hits" from 1000 years of ancient civilization. And you've lost the first 116 pages of that new revelation and scripture. You go through a grueling process of anguish and penitence, but the Lord forgives you and restores your ability to translate. You pop open the plates to translate anew and experience a fresh burst of sadness at the loss.

I won't pretend to know the thoughts of Joseph Smith. But I think it's very likely that something like the following went through his mind.

As he translates verse 3:

"King Benjamin's people needed all the teachings of their scriptures to avoid suffering in ignorance. Has the loss of 116 pages doomed my people to increased ignorance? Perhaps I could makes notes of the important teachings from those pages so my people don't lose out on that lost truth..."

As he translates verse 4:

"...but if Lehi couldn't remember everything, I surely cannot. I can't reproduce the words verbatim. I can't remember every last teaching. That truth is lost, and it's my fault."

I think it's a testament to the Lord's mercy that King Benjamin then says the following in verse 6:

"O my sons, I would that ye should remember that these sayings are true, and also that these records are true. And behold also the plates of Nephi, which contain the records and the sayings of our father from the time they left Jerusalem until now, and they are true..." [my emphasis].

The stories and teachings of the lost manuscript pages  had been written down a second time by Nephi, Lehi's son. Joseph had lost the pages, but he had not lost the truth. Nor can truth truly be lost--only hidden for a time until it's restored.

I think it very likely that Joseph recognized this tender mercy from the Lord. From translating Lehi's record, he knew very well who Nephi was; perhaps Lehi even mentioned Nephi's record keeping. [He also likely did not know about the 6 million other Nephis who would come later :)] He knew that there were a lot of golden plates still to come. And even it he didn't know that the smaller plates attached to the large ones he was currently reading were those very plates of Nephi of which Benjamin makes mention, he no doubt had a glimmer of hope and a seed of faith that there truly was a way to make amends for his mistakes and that his people would not suffer the loss of precious truth.

Mormon Marginalia, Ephemera, and Commentary

I declared last year the "year of the essay". The following deluge of Amazon spending filled up my bookshelves and queued me up with enough reading for the next several years at my new, grown up reading rate (full time employment and small children leave little time for intellectual discovery, I'm afraid).

In other words, it's going to take a great deal of time for me to become well-versed in the art and method of the essay form. And I hate writing on subject matter in which I'm poorly versed. That's one stream of thought.

The second centers around a challenge I recently received from my father-in-law to read the Book of Mormon along with all our family on that side. For those of you not aware, I am a faithful member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or Mormons. My faith is a preeminent influence on both my life decisions and my worldview (though that influence seems to have borne different fruit in my life than it has in the lives of other more prominent members of the Church like, say, Mitt). That said, the Book of Mormon, which is such a key component of my church's identity and theology, has gotten short shrift in its attention from me for the past few years.

While serving as a full time missionary for the church, I spent hours studying the Book of Mormon. I wrote long, detailed entries of my experiences during that study in several notebooks. One entry for each chapter in the book. The entries were filled with exegesis, stories, and personal witnesses of the truths I read.

Unfortunately, as of right now, my thorough search of my apartment and garage has placed those notebook firmly in the MIA column. Rather than mourn too much, I've decided to try again.

The years since my missionary service have been filled with a number of different trials, triumphs, and experiences. I have little doubt that the Book of Mormon will be a fertile field for a new collection of marginalia, ephemera, and commentary.

For those of you unfamiliar with the contents and provenance of the Book of Mormon, here's a link to a high level introduction.

If you'd like a free copy of your own to peruse, click here. The catch, of course, is that missionaries from the Church will deliver it personally and give you a personalized introduction. But their warm presence and special message might be just what you need to take your happiness to a whole new level. If you'd prefer to skip missionary earnestness, you can always purchase an unofficial (but still accurate) copy of the book from sites like Amazon.

I can't promise that my entries will be incisive or insightful. But they will be mine.