The chapter begins with a pep talk of sorts (which further cements the image in my head of Nephi as a geeky and overzealous glee club type ... like Patty from Grease except with more muscle) by Nephi to his downcast brothers. He says they should be strong like Moses, who "truly spake unto the waters of the Red Sea and they divided hither and thither." I don't know why he picked that analogy. Why not use one a little more relevant to their situation, like when the Children of Israel broke down the walls of Jericho? I guess parting the Red Sea must have been an act of faith on everyone's part: Moses had to believe that something would happen when he put his staff in the water, and the rest of them had to have faith that the water would stay that way as they crossed and they wouldn't get drowned in the depths of the sea. Faith, chums. Maybe is it sort of relevant, then.
There can be miracles ... when you believvvvvve...
Anyway, pep talk doesn't seem to help much, but they all follow Nephi towards Jerusalem anyway. Once arrived, Nephi wanders into the city with no plan, trusting the Spirit to lead him to do whatever he needs to do. Which, my friends, is a great deal of trust. My my my.
He comes across a drunk dude in a gutter--hold it! That's not just any drunk! It's Laban! What an unbelievable coincidence! Yeah right. There is no such thing as coincidence. Homeboy is so drunk he is completely passed out (don't forget he was drunken with wine, not the hard stuff ... meaning he must have had either a very low tolerance or a very large stomach ... or both). The Spirit constrains Nephi to kill Laban. Understandably, he is afraid. I could be wrong, but I think this is the only time when Nephi admits any level of fear or potential cowardice. Although, really, who can blame him? I can't imagine what I would do if the same thing were to happen to me ...
Spirit: See that girl over there who's dating the guy you like?
Me: The blond?
Spirit: That's the one. Kill her.
Me: Say what?
Spirit: Kill her. She's unconscious and wasted. She won't feel a thing. No witnesses. Kill her.
Me: Oh no. I'm going crazy. I should never have gone on the Pill.
Spirit: I'm telling you, this is the will of the Lord!
Me: Listen, I've never killed anybody before! This cannot possibly be right! I'm checking myself into an institution, stat!
Spirit: IF YOU DO NOT KILL THIS PERSON, YOUR POSTERITY WILL BE DOOMED!!!!
Me: I AM HAVING SOME SORT OF HORMONALLY INDUCED NERVOUS BREAKDOWN!!!
Spirit: Listen, sometimes a wicked person has to die so hundreds of thousands of righteous people can live. She has what you need to raise a righteous posterity. It is God's will that what she has belong to you. So kill her, and then you can get it. I'll help you.
Me: If you're wrong about this ...
Spirit: Have I ever been wrong before?
Me: Well, no.
Spirit: Look, she's got a sword. Kill her now. Use that.
Me: Why the frick does she have a sword?
Spirit: Less talk. More beheading.
Mother. So glad it wasn't me. I think the above conversation pretty much sums up Nephi's internal dilemma, as well as the Spirit's reasoning with him, that ends with his killing Laban.
The rest of the story is familiar: Nephi puts on Laban's clothes, pretends to be him, gets the plates from the guards and escapes to Jerusalem, gaining a friend/servant in the process (Zoram). Brothers are first afraid, then mollified, all return to Jerusalem. Cue happy music.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Saturday, June 28, 2008
I Nephi 3
Ah, the brass plates. Classic. So after (not when they were still in Jerusalem, but after) they had travelled something like a few hundred miles, (which makes me wonder, what exactly is God trying to prove here? That all good things come by way of sore feet?) Lehi has a dream that his sons need to return to Jerusalem to retrieve the brass plates, which were the Bible up to that time. No New Testament to be found, but still very valuable. Laman and Lemuel, who never seem to know the value of anything, complain. Nephi, who always seems to know how to win the hearts of everyone except Laman and Lemuel, says, "Jerusalem, ahoy! Man the sandals! Away we go!" or something like that. You gotta admire his gumption, but he must have been an exhausting dude to live with.
I love that when they finally get to Jerusalem they play the ancient Israeli version of "Bubble bubble gum in a dish" or some other elimination game to decide who goes first. I have never thought about this before, but it warrants consideration: if Nephi was so gung-ho, why didn't he just volunteer to go first? Could it be that he was just as scared as the others, but chose to leave that out of the story, seeing as he was writing about himself? I really respect those scriptural writers who have the guts to admit their own mistakes. "I myself am I wicked man ... " "I was guilty of levity ..." Now that's admirable. I won't even let people touch my mission journals, and I've told those close to me that if I die, I want them destroyed. Yes, I myself am a wicked, prideful woman.
Anyway, so Laman employs the genius strategy of walking up to Laban, keeper of said plates, and saying, "Hi. Can I have the plates?" Laban responds with violence. Laman comes back and says, "Well, shoot. We tried! Now, let's go home." You think that for a wicked guy, he would have more of a mind for treachery. Which further proves my point that Laman and Lemuel weren't so much downright intentionally wicked as lazy.
Nephi rallies the troops with a "Heck no! We won't go! Not without the plates at least!" Someone comes up with the idea of bribery. The Lehites had been a wealthy family before they took to nature, so it seems, so they go back to their house, gather all their riches, and try to buy the brass plates from Laban.
Laban is a really unreasonable guy. He once again responds with violence. The brothers four flee into the outskirts of town, sans property, and that seems to be the last straw for Laman and Lemuel. They are so pissed they start beating him with a rod.
Note, my friends, in your study of the scriptures, how many different words there are for "rod."
The brotherly brawl gets broken up by none other than an angel from God. He promises them that if they go back to Jerusalem one more time, God will deliver Laban into their hands. One assumes that the promise of an angel from God is pretty airtight, you know? But incredibly, Laman and Lemuel start complaining again immediately. Like in the next verse. Making them not only lazy but shortsighted and irritating. Really, there are some relatives about whom all you can do is laugh. Like my great-aunt Margaret in Montana.
I love that when they finally get to Jerusalem they play the ancient Israeli version of "Bubble bubble gum in a dish" or some other elimination game to decide who goes first. I have never thought about this before, but it warrants consideration: if Nephi was so gung-ho, why didn't he just volunteer to go first? Could it be that he was just as scared as the others, but chose to leave that out of the story, seeing as he was writing about himself? I really respect those scriptural writers who have the guts to admit their own mistakes. "I myself am I wicked man ... " "I was guilty of levity ..." Now that's admirable. I won't even let people touch my mission journals, and I've told those close to me that if I die, I want them destroyed. Yes, I myself am a wicked, prideful woman.
Anyway, so Laman employs the genius strategy of walking up to Laban, keeper of said plates, and saying, "Hi. Can I have the plates?" Laban responds with violence. Laman comes back and says, "Well, shoot. We tried! Now, let's go home." You think that for a wicked guy, he would have more of a mind for treachery. Which further proves my point that Laman and Lemuel weren't so much downright intentionally wicked as lazy.
Nephi rallies the troops with a "Heck no! We won't go! Not without the plates at least!" Someone comes up with the idea of bribery. The Lehites had been a wealthy family before they took to nature, so it seems, so they go back to their house, gather all their riches, and try to buy the brass plates from Laban.
Laban is a really unreasonable guy. He once again responds with violence. The brothers four flee into the outskirts of town, sans property, and that seems to be the last straw for Laman and Lemuel. They are so pissed they start beating him with a rod.
Note, my friends, in your study of the scriptures, how many different words there are for "rod."
The brotherly brawl gets broken up by none other than an angel from God. He promises them that if they go back to Jerusalem one more time, God will deliver Laban into their hands. One assumes that the promise of an angel from God is pretty airtight, you know? But incredibly, Laman and Lemuel start complaining again immediately. Like in the next verse. Making them not only lazy but shortsighted and irritating. Really, there are some relatives about whom all you can do is laugh. Like my great-aunt Margaret in Montana.
Boy, am I glad I'm doing this ...
“Do eternal consequences rest upon our response to this book? Yes, either to our blessing or our condemnation. ...
"Every Latter-day Saint should make the study of this book a lifetime pursuit. Otherwise he is placing his soul in jeopardy and neglecting that which could give spiritual and intellectual unity to his whole life. There is a difference between a convert who is built on the rock of Christ through the Book of Mormon and stays hold of that iron rod, and one who is not."
Ezra Taft Benson
"Every Latter-day Saint should make the study of this book a lifetime pursuit. Otherwise he is placing his soul in jeopardy and neglecting that which could give spiritual and intellectual unity to his whole life. There is a difference between a convert who is built on the rock of Christ through the Book of Mormon and stays hold of that iron rod, and one who is not."
Ezra Taft Benson
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
1 Nephi 2
Lehi has a dream that tells him to pack provisions and hack it out in the wilderness. He obeys, to the chagrin of some (Laman and Lemuel) and the possibly grudging acceptance of the rest.
I wonder about their real reaction to this. No one in their right mind would be happy to leave their life and all their possessions behind to go camping for an indefinite period of time, right? There are lots of commandments from God that I obey even though I'm not exactly delighted about it. I won't go into which ones. But trust me. To tell you the truth, I think that's the real test of love: to be willing to do something not because it's what you want or because it would directly benefit you in some way, but because it's the right thing to do. Even if you don't understand it. If they hadn't all been pissed off about leaving, it wouldn't have been a sacrifice. It's what you do with your pissed-offed-ness that counts. You can whine and complain like a little sissy, or you can suck it up. Nephi, let's face it, is the champion of sucking it up.
An interesting aside about obedience: "fake it till you make it" can really work. If you keep going to church or paying tithing or avoiding coffee, eventually you'll gain a better understanding of why, and even an appreciation for that commandment. Unless you're really off the deep end.
My six year-old can be a sassy little punk sometimes, and always very obnoxiously asks "why" when I ask him to do something. A favorite answer of mine is this: "If for no other reason, then because I asked you to." It's like that.
Feminist insert: The entire First Book of Nephi is about Nephi's family, but he doesn't mention that he has any sisters until Second Nephi chapter five. What, he couldn't have just thrown that in there a little bit earlier? What's with the "my family, consisting of my mother, my father, and my brothers." What are sisters, chopped liver? That is so Old Testament. Given, this was written during the same time period. But still.
Here's the rub about Lehi's parenting skills.
Compliment: having a river or valley named after you.
Insult: using said river or valley to make an unfavorable observation about your moral character.
So, do those two just cancel each other out? Once again, I feel for Laman and Lemuel. Granted, they were immature, whiny, lazy, kvetchers, but man, what a break. It's interesting to me that their descendants ended up better than Nephi's in the long run. Their progeny was spared, Nephi's destroyed. I have heard many times that this is because the Nephites had the truth in their lives, but rejected it. The original Lamanites rejected the truth early on, so their kids didn't have it in their lives, and thus weren't accountable. It's a little jumbled but it's actually pretty fair, when you think about it. With great power comes great responsibility, so if you blow it, you really blow it. The kind of blowing it that involves divine vengeance.
I think this is the same reasoning behind Cain having a mark put upon him intended to protect him from others. His descendants would be far from the truth, and thus protected from severe punishment for going against what they knew. Because they didn't know much.
Sounds like an easy life. Not that I would trade what I have for ignorance. Ever.
I wonder about their real reaction to this. No one in their right mind would be happy to leave their life and all their possessions behind to go camping for an indefinite period of time, right? There are lots of commandments from God that I obey even though I'm not exactly delighted about it. I won't go into which ones. But trust me. To tell you the truth, I think that's the real test of love: to be willing to do something not because it's what you want or because it would directly benefit you in some way, but because it's the right thing to do. Even if you don't understand it. If they hadn't all been pissed off about leaving, it wouldn't have been a sacrifice. It's what you do with your pissed-offed-ness that counts. You can whine and complain like a little sissy, or you can suck it up. Nephi, let's face it, is the champion of sucking it up.
An interesting aside about obedience: "fake it till you make it" can really work. If you keep going to church or paying tithing or avoiding coffee, eventually you'll gain a better understanding of why, and even an appreciation for that commandment. Unless you're really off the deep end.
My six year-old can be a sassy little punk sometimes, and always very obnoxiously asks "why" when I ask him to do something. A favorite answer of mine is this: "If for no other reason, then because I asked you to." It's like that.
Feminist insert: The entire First Book of Nephi is about Nephi's family, but he doesn't mention that he has any sisters until Second Nephi chapter five. What, he couldn't have just thrown that in there a little bit earlier? What's with the "my family, consisting of my mother, my father, and my brothers." What are sisters, chopped liver? That is so Old Testament. Given, this was written during the same time period. But still.
Here's the rub about Lehi's parenting skills.
Compliment: having a river or valley named after you.
Insult: using said river or valley to make an unfavorable observation about your moral character.
So, do those two just cancel each other out? Once again, I feel for Laman and Lemuel. Granted, they were immature, whiny, lazy, kvetchers, but man, what a break. It's interesting to me that their descendants ended up better than Nephi's in the long run. Their progeny was spared, Nephi's destroyed. I have heard many times that this is because the Nephites had the truth in their lives, but rejected it. The original Lamanites rejected the truth early on, so their kids didn't have it in their lives, and thus weren't accountable. It's a little jumbled but it's actually pretty fair, when you think about it. With great power comes great responsibility, so if you blow it, you really blow it. The kind of blowing it that involves divine vengeance.
I think this is the same reasoning behind Cain having a mark put upon him intended to protect him from others. His descendants would be far from the truth, and thus protected from severe punishment for going against what they knew. Because they didn't know much.
Sounds like an easy life. Not that I would trade what I have for ignorance. Ever.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
1 Nephi 1
So Nephi starts out by introducing himself and providing a brief summary of his childhood. I wish I knew enough about Biblical history to be able to picture what Nephi means when he says, "I was taught ... in all the learning of my father." Obviously that means he knows how to read and write--hence the records--but did he go to a legit school? Or was he home-schooled with his brothers (and, if they were progressive enough, his sisters)?
It's entertaining for me to picture Laman and Lemuel slacking off studies and making snide comments behind the teacher's back, while Nephi sits in the front row with an apple (or the Jerusalem equivalent ... a fig maybe?) on the teacher's desk, spot in the front row, his glowing visage always facing front despite the olive seeds his older brothers keep spitting at him. And venerable Sam, who bears a striking resemblance in my mind to Samwise Gamgee of LOTR fame, repeatedly glancing back at his older brothers with a mix of curiosity, fear and awe, but staying by Nephi's side, trying to keep up. Whoever was in charge of lessons probably always made Nephi the monitor too. Stick monitor, parchment monitor, sheep milk monitor. One wonders if he was the only kid to earn enough sheep's milk to make a difference in his physical development. Hence the large in stature thing.
Sometimes I identify with Laman and Lemuel more than the other characters in this book, which I know is terrible. But really, how often am I cynical when someone in my family gets some cockamamie idea that sounds all too founded on whimsy? Do I mock others for being goody-goody? Would I be entirely unwilling to approach a rich guy who wants to kill me to ask the same favor for a third time? Yes, yes, and a resounding no.
Still, there's no denying that Nephi was a good guy. Lehi, too. I always picture Nephi as having the family corner on sincerity (and hence geekiness ... the tapered jeans, polo shirt kind) but Lehi having the lion's share of the guts. He's one of those guys who not only prays on behalf of his people, but goes out and warns them about the consequences of their actions. Which is something I hesitate to do even with people I know well.
I wonder about the relationship between tact and truth sometimes. Where is the line between being polite and letting evil take hold in this world and meddling? Or being judgmental? One of my best friends is pregnant out of wedlock and is marrying the father in a few days. Not a week ago, she never wanted to see or speak to him (the father) ever again, because their relationship was never a healthy one, and she was frankly relieved when it ended. But for a number of reasons, which have been explained to me, but which I still don't entirely understand, she has made the choice to marry the guy and raise the child with him.
That is not the decision I would make. The Church provides for multiple options when it comes to unwed mothers, but I would say the general consensus is adoption over a shotgun wedding. In short, I'm saddened by her decision. But heck, I'm not her. She says she feels good about it. Who am I to discern the source of her warm fuzzy feelings? They could be from God for all I know. And I'm certainly not going to tell her how I feel about her decision once she's made it. But do I have an obligation to? Or would if under any weird theoretical circumstances?
Back to the Book of Mormon. How did Lehi do it? He has a fantastic vision of God, Jesus Christ and the Twelve Apostles. He feels the spirit with such force that he is physically overcome. Of course anyone righteous enough to have an experience like that would be dying to share it. But what role does pragmatism play? Does it in the least?
Perhaps that is what made me a sub-par missionary. I was never told this by anyone, but I always felt that I was too shy to be one of the powerhouses among the Hungarian elders and sisters. I was never the type to walk up to someone on the street and invite them to be baptized. I always felt that much of what we do as missionaries is pretty rude. Granted, if the Spirit touches someone's heart and they let the two frumpy girls standing at the gate into their house, results are often quite good. And I never avoided the truth when questions were asked.
Lady in lesson: So you mean my christening doesn't count as a real baptism?
Me: I'm sorry. No.
If something is true, it's true. You can't lie about it when you're asked. But I never would have in a million years walked up to a woman with three kids and no wedding ring and said, "I have seen your abominations, and they shall bring upon you the judgment of God." I would never physically take away a stranger's cigarette either, although I heard legends of other missionaries who did.
So when it says that Lehi, "went forth among the people" to "prophesy and ... declare unto them concerning the things which he had both seen and heard" did he stand on a street corner with a football helmet and a big sign that read some verse from Isaiah? Did he street contact?
"Hi, my name is Lehi and I'm a representative of the Church of the Lamb. I'm here to tell you that if you don't repent of your iniquities immediately, Jerusalem will be destroyed. Is there a more convenient time when we could meet at your home and discuss these things? Can I at least give you this parchment?"
There is also the distinct possibility that he went among the people as Christ did, serving them and teaching them basic principles using examples from their lives, helping them understand and apply the commandments. Part of me says "probably not" because that method really works, and the people rejected Lehi. But on the other hand, they rejected Christ too.
Nephi says that in the next few chapters, he will show us how the tender mercies of the Lord play a role in the lives of His chosen people. Which is odd because, thinking ahead, the next few events in their lives don't seem that tender to me. More like tough. And trials. I wish I could make trial into an adjective somehow, but I just can't. Anyhow, stay tuned.
It's entertaining for me to picture Laman and Lemuel slacking off studies and making snide comments behind the teacher's back, while Nephi sits in the front row with an apple (or the Jerusalem equivalent ... a fig maybe?) on the teacher's desk, spot in the front row, his glowing visage always facing front despite the olive seeds his older brothers keep spitting at him. And venerable Sam, who bears a striking resemblance in my mind to Samwise Gamgee of LOTR fame, repeatedly glancing back at his older brothers with a mix of curiosity, fear and awe, but staying by Nephi's side, trying to keep up. Whoever was in charge of lessons probably always made Nephi the monitor too. Stick monitor, parchment monitor, sheep milk monitor. One wonders if he was the only kid to earn enough sheep's milk to make a difference in his physical development. Hence the large in stature thing.
Sometimes I identify with Laman and Lemuel more than the other characters in this book, which I know is terrible. But really, how often am I cynical when someone in my family gets some cockamamie idea that sounds all too founded on whimsy? Do I mock others for being goody-goody? Would I be entirely unwilling to approach a rich guy who wants to kill me to ask the same favor for a third time? Yes, yes, and a resounding no.
Still, there's no denying that Nephi was a good guy. Lehi, too. I always picture Nephi as having the family corner on sincerity (and hence geekiness ... the tapered jeans, polo shirt kind) but Lehi having the lion's share of the guts. He's one of those guys who not only prays on behalf of his people, but goes out and warns them about the consequences of their actions. Which is something I hesitate to do even with people I know well.
I wonder about the relationship between tact and truth sometimes. Where is the line between being polite and letting evil take hold in this world and meddling? Or being judgmental? One of my best friends is pregnant out of wedlock and is marrying the father in a few days. Not a week ago, she never wanted to see or speak to him (the father) ever again, because their relationship was never a healthy one, and she was frankly relieved when it ended. But for a number of reasons, which have been explained to me, but which I still don't entirely understand, she has made the choice to marry the guy and raise the child with him.
That is not the decision I would make. The Church provides for multiple options when it comes to unwed mothers, but I would say the general consensus is adoption over a shotgun wedding. In short, I'm saddened by her decision. But heck, I'm not her. She says she feels good about it. Who am I to discern the source of her warm fuzzy feelings? They could be from God for all I know. And I'm certainly not going to tell her how I feel about her decision once she's made it. But do I have an obligation to? Or would if under any weird theoretical circumstances?
Back to the Book of Mormon. How did Lehi do it? He has a fantastic vision of God, Jesus Christ and the Twelve Apostles. He feels the spirit with such force that he is physically overcome. Of course anyone righteous enough to have an experience like that would be dying to share it. But what role does pragmatism play? Does it in the least?
Perhaps that is what made me a sub-par missionary. I was never told this by anyone, but I always felt that I was too shy to be one of the powerhouses among the Hungarian elders and sisters. I was never the type to walk up to someone on the street and invite them to be baptized. I always felt that much of what we do as missionaries is pretty rude. Granted, if the Spirit touches someone's heart and they let the two frumpy girls standing at the gate into their house, results are often quite good. And I never avoided the truth when questions were asked.
Lady in lesson: So you mean my christening doesn't count as a real baptism?
Me: I'm sorry. No.
If something is true, it's true. You can't lie about it when you're asked. But I never would have in a million years walked up to a woman with three kids and no wedding ring and said, "I have seen your abominations, and they shall bring upon you the judgment of God." I would never physically take away a stranger's cigarette either, although I heard legends of other missionaries who did.
So when it says that Lehi, "went forth among the people" to "prophesy and ... declare unto them concerning the things which he had both seen and heard" did he stand on a street corner with a football helmet and a big sign that read some verse from Isaiah? Did he street contact?
"Hi, my name is Lehi and I'm a representative of the Church of the Lamb. I'm here to tell you that if you don't repent of your iniquities immediately, Jerusalem will be destroyed. Is there a more convenient time when we could meet at your home and discuss these things? Can I at least give you this parchment?"
There is also the distinct possibility that he went among the people as Christ did, serving them and teaching them basic principles using examples from their lives, helping them understand and apply the commandments. Part of me says "probably not" because that method really works, and the people rejected Lehi. But on the other hand, they rejected Christ too.
Nephi says that in the next few chapters, he will show us how the tender mercies of the Lord play a role in the lives of His chosen people. Which is odd because, thinking ahead, the next few events in their lives don't seem that tender to me. More like tough. And trials. I wish I could make trial into an adjective somehow, but I just can't. Anyhow, stay tuned.
Introduction
I am a huge fan of Slate regular David Plotz's Blogging the Bible project in which he, as an affectionate but only semi-practicing Jew, reads the Old Testament straight through from start to finish, sans academic or other commentary, and commented on it. It was always funny, often insightful, and I thought, a very worthy project.
Now I'm not claiming to be as awesome as David Plotz. Not by a long shot. But I think I am in a good spot to take this project from an LDS perspective for the following reasons.
1. I am a practicing member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, with no current grudges or axes to grind that I know of.
2. I like to write.
3. I have lots of crazy ideas.
4. I am able to differentiate between ELISA's crazy ideas and official doctrine of the Church.
So, I don't think this is going to be any big thing, but I need some better motivation to study the Book of Mormon, in depth, every day. So here we go ...
Now I'm not claiming to be as awesome as David Plotz. Not by a long shot. But I think I am in a good spot to take this project from an LDS perspective for the following reasons.
1. I am a practicing member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, with no current grudges or axes to grind that I know of.
2. I like to write.
3. I have lots of crazy ideas.
4. I am able to differentiate between ELISA's crazy ideas and official doctrine of the Church.
So, I don't think this is going to be any big thing, but I need some better motivation to study the Book of Mormon, in depth, every day. So here we go ...
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