03 February 2013

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.


02 February 2013

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.

31 January 2013

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.

30 January 2013

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.

29 January 2013

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.

28 January 2013

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.

24 January 2013

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.