that ye may learn.

I’ve been in this Shakespeare class where we’ve talked about different translations of the Bible, and just basking in the rich, gorgeous prose of the Geneva Edition, with its archaic spellings and dynamic language. It’s been a revelation to me, as I’ve learned how in the sixteenth century this version took England by storm, surpassing the officially-sanctioned Bishops’ Bible because its language was so much more riveting—the people were just starting to get the Bible in their own language, and they loved it! Can you imagine how exciting that must have been for a people who had grown up gleaning all their knowledge of God from the stained-glass windows in the church they looked at while their attention wandered from the Latin bible reading in Mass, and what their priest told them. Suddenly they can go directly to the source and decide for themselves, through prayer, what they think the Lord was saying through a particularly elegant iteration of His word. And of course I’m familiar with the almost excruciating warmth of the King James Version. Seriously, it’s painfully beautiful to me sometimes. And I mean it’s been the gold standard in Bible translation for four hundred years. We have an embarrassment of wealth of incredible language in our English translations of the Bible.

I heard someone quote Mark Twain (perhaps apocryphally) as saying the Book of Mormon is “chloroform in print.” Regardless of how you feel about it, the Book’s writers definitely did not write it with our modern conventions of English in mind. Its run-ons run on and on, its parenthetical phrases sometimes take over the narrative, and, well, five words: “and it came to pass.” I mean, I think the Book of Mormon does have some literary moments that just glisten—Nephi’s Psalm, for example, or some of Alma and Ammon’s exclamations of missionary joy. But in general, the Book reads more stodgily than the Bible.

And I think that’s a part of its charm. The writers of the Book of Mormon are conscious of what they call their “weakness in writing.” At least Nephi and Moroni, and maybe even more writers, lament that they can’t communicate with us in their preferred medium, public speaking, where it’s easier for them to connect personally with their listeners and really stir souls. But since they do face constraints in writing, it’s nice that they acknowledge their imperfection. I think it’s in Mormon 9:31, where Moroni says, Don’t condemn us for our imperfections, but rather give thanks, so you can learn from our mistakes. What a beautiful humble attitude. These guys were probably some of the most learned and closest to perfect of their societies, and they are willing to recognize that they made mistakes and urge us to learn from them. They did the best they could, and so did Joseph Smith in translating the book. There was no team of government-funded scholars to make the language flowery, but the result is a book of frank beauty and naked truth, unpretentious, earthy, human, and ultimately inspired. Truly the Lord works through the weak things of the world to bring great things to come to pass.

Lay Hold Upon Every Good Thing.

I sometimes hear people criticize the Mormon church as very restrictive, stifling even. And of course, it’s easy to see where they’re coming from. We believe in all these Thou Shalt Nots which sometimes, if we’re not careful, can get more airtime in our religious discourse than the (arguably more important) Thou Shalts. Moroni was not a victim to such a misconception: he seemed to recognize the possibility that exists to misconstrue commandments as injunctions toward a reclusive isolation from the world, and fought against it.
Moroni of course exhorts his readers to eschew evil, but gives equal emphasis to the importance of NOT eschewing good. Moroni 7:14: “Wherefore, take heed, my beloved brethren , that ye do not judge that which is evil to be of God, or that which is good and of God to be of the devil.” In verse 19, he admonishes us to “lay hold upon every good thing, and condemn it not,” with the promise that we “certainly will be a child of Christ.”
I interpret this as a warning against narrow-mindedness. It can be very tempting, in our world of today with danger lurking around every corner, to look at anything unfamiliar and place it by default in the “harmful” category. I mean, I look at people who have kids, and think I would probably do the same thing. But we have to be willing to accept good things wherever we encounter them, because Moroni is insistent that they all come from the same source.  I don’t know, to me, this seems to imply a responsibility on our part to not get too complacent with our worldview, but to seek always to learn from anyone we can.  Of course part of this responsibility is to not abandon the truth we already hold dear, but rather expand and augment it.  Moroni sums it up nicely: “lay hold upon every good gift, and touch not the evil gift.”  May we all keep an open mind and an open heart as we continue to access more and more of the infinite truth and beauty that is God’s.

American Exceptionalism.

Yeah, you heard me right.  A lot of people put on a tone of disdain when they mention American Exceptionalism.  Maybe it’s just that I’m American, but I think it’s awesome.  And I’m happy to note that the Book of Mormon agrees with me.

Ether 2:7- “And the Lord would not suffer that they should stop beyond the sea in the wilderness, but he would that they should come forth even unto the land of promise, which was choice above all other lands, which the Lord God had preserved for a righteous people.”

The Book of Mormon, in many ways, is a thoroughly American document: it was written mostly in America, translated in America, and prophesies that the New Jerusalem will be built in America.

Also, it puts a premium on liberty and freedom that gives it a distinctly American flavor to me.  The Lord himself notes this characteristic in  distinguishing America from all other lands:  Ether 2:12- “Behold, this is a choice land, and whatsoever nation shall possess it shall be free fro bondage, and from captivity, and from all other nations under heaven , if they will but serve the God of the land who is Jesus Christ.”  I find it interesting to look at the history of America with regards to liberty since that time.  Lehi and his family were driven to America as a result of religious persecution.  Many of the English settlers of North America were also religious refugees.  But Latin America was settled by people with the opposite intentions.  While the Inquisition was going on in Spain, the church sent missionaries to convert the native inhabitants of the Americas and to exploit the natural resources of the new continent.  When the age of Enlightenment hit, the European colonies in both North and South America formed new countries based ostensibly on liberty, equality, and democracy, but then most of Latin America’s nations were seized by one oppressive military dictatorship after another.  And the United States doesn’t have a squeaky-clean liberty record either, when you consider our history of slavery, segregation, and marginalization of various ethnic and religious groups.

So what?  Well, that divine promise of exceptionalism is a two-edged sword.  Ether 2:9- “And now, we can behold the decrees of God concerning this land, that it is a land of promise; and whatsoever nation shall possess it shall serve God, or they shall be swept off when the fulness of his wrath shall come upon them.”

So yeah, I definitely like America probably quite a bit more than the next guy.  And I admire what I see as this deep-rooted desire in her inhabitants for freedom– even when that yearning may be thwarted or stifled.  Also, I think it’s pretty clear that America is the continent where the Christian faith most flourishes.  I would suggest there is a link there.  But at the same time, I hope we can continue serving God so as not to be swept off the face of the land, as we can see happened to the previous peoples who inhabited this land.  Sometimes when you look at the history of the twentieth century in Latin America, it can sound pretty similar to those Book of Mormon bloodshed narratives.  Let’s try and steer away from that.

But it was written by immigrants.

You say you want a revolution.

Old things are done away, and all things have become new.  -3 nephi 12:47

I was about to say here, “What Jesus preached was really revolutionary for the time he was saying it in,” or something dumb like that.  No.  What Jesus was saying is still totally nuts.  Maybe it’s even crazier now than ever.  I mean we need it.

And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain.  Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn thou not away.  And behold it is written also, that thou shalt love they neighbor and hate thine enemy; But behold I say unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them who despitefully use you and persecute you; That ye may be the children of your Father who is in heaven; for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good.

In my mind, I see our jaded and self-absorbed postmodern world just kind of melting before the naked force and unadorned beauty of those words.  Like the Nazis in Raiders of the Lost Ark.

I was reading some Shakespeare lately.  The Merchant of Venice.  It has a lot to say about Jews and Christians, Old and New.  But I think a lot of what it’s saying is that even we who profess to be all modern and changed, these nominal adherents of Christ’s doctrine, sure have a hard time applying what he taught.

Therefore, whoso heareth these sayings of mine and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, who built his house upon a rock– 3 nephi 14:26.

It’s pretty easy for us to profess Christ’s name.  It’s really hard to do his sayings.  I mean, I guess I should just speak for myself, but it’s hard for me.  Is it worse for us to call ourselves Christians if we are just the same poster children for human nature we always were, than if we made no such pretensions?  Jesus is pretty hard on hypocrites.

Look, though.  Jesus also shows a lot of faith in us, even as he gives us these really hard attributes to try and graft into our souls.  Why do we love our enemies, and pray for those that use and persecute us?  So we can be our Father’s children– so we can be like our Father.  He makes his big great sun shine down on all.  Which is pretty remarkable, I guess, depending on how you conceptualize God.  He loves the “wicked” exactly as much as he loves the “righteous.”  And I mean it’s pretty hard for us to treat people who we separate into different categories with the same compassion and humanity.  But our Father does, and he expects it of us.

Then– this is great– after he tells us to do all this totally counterintuitive and crazy stuff, and to be like God, he tells us, Don’t Act So Surprised–

Marvel not that I said unto you that old things had passed away, and that all things had become new.  3 nephi 15:3

marvel not.  I love it.  How am I not going to marvel?  It’s crazy.  It’s gorgeous.  It’s marvellous.   How am I not going to marvel?

Repetition.

“And again I say unto you, ye must repent, and become as a little child, and be baptized in my name, or ye can in nowise receive these things.

“And again I say unto you, ye must repent, and be baptized in my name, and become as a ltitle child, or ye can in nowise inherit the kingdom of God.”             –3 Nephi 11:37-38.

Jesus was the master teacher– can we all agree upon that?  And a great teacher understands his or her students.  I guess it’s pretty intuitive that Jesus would probably have a better understanding of human nature than anyone, having suffered exactly what all humans have ever suffered.  But I still take pleasure in noting that he’s got us pegged.  

One thing I’ve noticed about human beings– or maybe just about myself, but, I extrapolate– is that it takes us quite a few times through a concept to start understanding it.  Anyway, Jeus, he was a master at repetition.  He used to teach the same concept multiple times, coming at it from different angles or using different metaphors.  But look, this passage from 3 Nephi 11 is almost a direct reiteration.  To me it implies this grave importance, this burning urgency. 

At my job I learn how to teach classes in Adobe Photoshop and things like that.  And I’ve started to pick up on the necessity of repetition in learning.  I mean if you tell them, “click on the Tools menu and scroll down to “photoshop effects” and select ‘blur,'” a lot of people, and I include myself, kind of just don’t register what you said.  I mean I understand that something was said; in my mind there is this placeholder for information; but I need it to be said again in order to put that information in its place.  

Maybe this is what Jesus was working at.  I mean, what he was saying was kind of revolutionary– You have to become like a little child?  Since when has that ever been the path to success?  Little children are the ones that are dependent, they’re the ones that need to be taken care of.  And maybe we’re resistant– no, we ARE resistant, at least I know I am– to the idea that we still depend on someone, because experience has taught us to depend only on ourselves.  If someone tells us to just let go of that and let s0meone else be the ultimate caregiver in our lives– even if that someone is God, who is entirely capable of it– our minds might well just fail to process that information.  So Jesus gives it to us again:  Guys, LISTEN.  You’ve got to repent, be baptized, and become like a little child.  I know that’s an alien concept in this world.   But that’s what the Kingdom of God is about.

Light. Life.

I was reading in the Book of Mormon.  It’s  a pretty great story.  It’s the history of this people who lived in the Americas for like a thousand years.  This week I was reading about the years immediately preceding the time of Christ.  Let me tell you, that civilization got pretty crazy in those years.  It was super polarized, the rich were way rich and the poor were way poor; the good were way good and the bad were way bad.  It is a society on the brink of collapse.  No, in fact, it’s a society in collapse.  Eventually all semblance of central authority breaks down and the country that once elected its leaders democratically becomes an angry pack of squabbling tribal fiefs, each loyal to their warlord.  Yeah, I know!  Some pretty interesting sociological stuff.

But guys, that’s not the main thing that interests me from what I read in the Book of Mormon recently.  I mean it’s talking about all these problems that the people have and that the society has and that the individuals in society have, and to me it seems almost like the proposition of peaceful coexistence has become untenable, it’s this idealistic fantasy.  And in fact the natural world seems to go a little crazy itself– there are all these earthquakes, and storms, and floods, and fires.  A lot of people die.  It’s hard for me to imagine a deeper rock bottom for this people.  There is no hope.  But then a miracle happens.  Christ shows up.

“Behold, I am Jesus Christ, whom the prophets testified shall come into the world.

“And behold, I am the light and the life of the world; and I have drunk out of that bitter cup which the Father hath given me, and have glorified the Father in taking upon me the sins of the world, in the which I have suffered the will of the Father in all things from the beginning.”

He just comes down out of the sky.  And these are the first words that escape his mouth.  And I am just a little bit awestruck at how succinct and powerful Christ is at describing himself.  There could be no more perfect, concise, complete introduction.   I don’t think anyone before or since has been able to explain in as full or as lovely a way what  Jesus Christ is all about.  The essence is right here.

The Greatest Generation.

I was in an upper-division English class the other day, talking about Heidegger and Derrida, signifiers and signifieds, and thinking to myself, This Is Hogwash.  I sometimes lose patience with so many abstractions.  I tend to sympathize with Alma, when he’s talking about the palpable benefits of applying Christ’s teachings:  “O then, is not this real?  I say unto you, Yea, because it is light; and whatsoever is light, is good, because it is discernible” (Alma 32:35).  Essentially, he’s saying, I can tell this gospel makes my life better.  That’s my analysis.

Now, don’t get me wrong:  it’s probably important that someone examine what qualifies as reality.  But it’s an activity (I guess we could call it philosophy) for people and societies that are prosperous and secure enough to have the leisure time to dissect and criticize the world they live in and wonder how it could be better.   However, when a society is under duress, it focuses on survival, and reverts back to its instinctive, traditional, core values– the ones that produced all that prosperity and security in the first place.

This is the story of the war chapters in Alma.  Nephite civilization has been healthy and rich long enough for people to get bored.  They try and come up with new ways to look at the world– through the eyes of Rameumptomism, for example, or monarch imposition.  Many decide to try out the Lamanite lifestyle, like Amalickiah.  When these experiments threaten the stability of the nation as a whole, the old values gain new currency as the remedy  to society’s ills.  God, religion, freedom, peace, family (Alma 46:12).  Of course some will call this fascism.  And there certainly can be excesses to “subjecting [people] to peace and democracy,” without question.  But there is a definite benefit to this reinforcement of national identity, it’s like there’s a magic to it.  It’s apple pie and Clint Eastwood.  Mormon records that “there never was a happier time among the people of Nephi, since the days of Nephi, than in the days of Moroni, yea, even at this time, in the twenty and first year of the reign of the judges.”  They were at war!  And yet they were happy.

Reading this, I can’t help but think of the World War II generation of Americans.  I wasn’t around to see World War II, but it certainly has an aura of magic about it: the whole country united against a clear external threat, bound together by their great common American legacy.  Now, I’m certain that both the popular perception of WWII and Mormon’s description of Captain Moroni’s War have been given some heavy romanticizing soft-lens treatment.  Moroni even mentions that although the afflictions humbled some people, “many had become hardened, because of the exceedingly great length of the war” (Alma 62:41).  There’s no doubt that, in the immortal words of Sherman, War is Hell.  But perhaps precisely because of that, it seems to expose to a society its heart and demand that they decide what their life is really all about.  And so I can’t help but wonder, whenever I hear about interpretive indeterminacy or epistemological crises, Are We Missing Out On What’s Really Important Here?