Man Must Hope



Moroni buries the plates

Life is made up of mostly mundane, routine, everyday stuff, isn’t it? Sleeping, eating, working, commuting. Homework, yardwork, schoolwork, paperwork. Small talk. Hitting ‘snooze.’ Feeding the dog. Taking out the trash. Watching TV.

But of course, life is also seasoned with experiences and moments that are unforgettable, right? Milestones, vacations, goals, family time, you name it. Lots of great stuff, some of which will endure, literally, forever. Some of my favorite, best remembered moments in life are conversations I’ve had. Friends, family members, coworkers, bosses—those conversations can come from anywhere, be shared with anyone.

Some of the conversations I cherish most? Discussions about spiritual, important things, especially with close friends and family. I remember discussions I had with teachers 35 years ago, with fellow missionaries and Church members and curious investigators 25 years ago. I’ve had memorable talks with friends and co-workers throughout my life. My favorites are those I have with family—and some of the greatest are those I’ve had with my parents.

I remember great lessons they taught me when I was just a little kid—for example the one about the spirit and body, in which Dad used a pen and pen cap to illustrate. I remember talks about Joseph Smith’s life and death. And of course, talking about Jesus; His life, parables, and the atonement. Some great conversations—and the great thing is that we can still have these conversations, and do, every time we get together.

I have been lately pondering the conversations Moroni might have had with his father, Mormon. We have a few epistles and chapters in the Book of Mormon to give us a pretty good idea of what they spoke about. With the thought of those wonderful conversations as a backdrop, I’d like to ponder for a moment the writings of Moroni.

Consider the lives that Moroni and Mormon led. They saw their loved ones, their families and friends all killed. Mormon was finally murdered by a civilization which delighted in wickedness as vile as you can imagine—including human sacrifice and cannibalistic torture. Mormon’s life’s work—compiling and editing the history of two great civilizations—was cut just short, and his son Moroni was charged with its completion.

Mormon and Moroni spent years on the run, as two of the last twenty-four living Nephites. Moroni spent at least two decades alone—the last Nephite, in hiding after his father’s death. Etching carefully into metal plates, abridging Ether’s record, adding his father’s epistles and teachings, he avoided the hunting enemy. If anyone ever had reason to sorrow, it was Moroni. He wrote of his father being slain in battle, of the death of his friends and kinsfolk, of his not knowing whither to go or how long the Lord would let him live.

We know he lived like this for at least another 20 years. I can hardly think of a life more heartbreaking and traumatic. Five times, Moroni seems to end his record, bidding us farewell, ending his writing with the customary ‘amen.’ But five times, he continues that record, adding an epistle, a thought, an invitation, or a warning. Moroni had decades—decades—to think, ponder, and pray, completely alone.

He was visited by Christ. He wrote of those whose faith was so strong, things “could no longer be kept without the veil.” I imagine Moroni had faith of that nature. His writings on faith, charity, spiritual gifts, miracles, the atonement, the power of the Holy Ghost, and becoming perfected in Christ are some of the greatest ever recorded. But to me, there is one topic he and Mormon wrote about that might be most notable.

He wrote prolifically of hope.

In fact, more than two dozen times, Moroni speaks of hope. Moroni’s writing (less than fifty pages), has about as much teaching about hope as the other 480 pages of the Book of Mormon combined! A man who was left to wander alone, his family and friends all murdered by those that pursued him, gives us some of the most beautiful, uplifting, hope-filling words ever taught! (It’s also worth mentioning that the hunted, forsaken Moroni also wrote beautifully about hope’s close cousins, faith and charity).

Some examples:

   “But because of the faith of men he has shown himself unto the world, and glorified the name of the Father, and prepared a way that thereby others might be partakers of the heavenly gift, that they might hope for those things which they have not seen. Wherefore, ye may also have hope, and be partakers of the gift, if ye will but have faith” (Ether 12:8-9).

   “… I would speak unto you that are of the church, that are the peaceable followers of Christ, and that have obtained a sufficient hope by which ye can enter the rest of the Lord, from this time henceforth until ye shall rest with him in heaven” (Moroni 7:3).

   “Wherefore, if a man have faith he must needs have hope; for without faith there cannot be any hope” (Moroni 7:42).

   “… pray unto the Father with all energy of heart, that ye may be filled with his love, which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ; that ye may become the sons of God; that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is; that we may have this hope; that we may be purified even as he is pure. Amen” (Moroni 7:48).

   “… because of meekness and lowliness of heart cometh the visitation of the Holy Ghost, which Comforter filleth with hope and perfect love” (Moroni 8:26).

   “… thou hast prepared a house for man, yea, even among the mansions of thy Father, in which man might have a more excellent hope; wherefore man must hope” (Ether 12:32).

There are so many amazing doctrinal and inspirational truths in the last fifty pages of the Book of Mormon. I believe it is even more meaningful when you consider those pages also contain undoubtedly the most harrowing descriptions of circumstances found in the Book of Mormon—these great prophet-historians lived in the worst of times, yet had strong faith and the sweetest of teachings.

The message of hope is even more significant when you consider the definitions of the word itself. Currently, Merriam-Webster defines hope as “to cherish a desire with anticipation” and “to desire with expectation of obtainment” and “to expect with confidence.” However, looking at the meaning in the 1828 Webster’s Dictionary is probably more descriptive and accurate, as these would have been closer to the meanings revealed to Joseph Smith as he translated the work.

The 1828 dictionary adds “confidence in a future event; the highest degree of well-founded expectation of good; a desire of some good, accompanied with at least a slight expectation of obtaining it, or a belief that it is obtainable That which gives hope; he or that which furnishes ground of expectation, or promises desired good. An opinion or belief not amounting to certainty, but grounded on substantial evidence.”

That’s a lot deeper, isn’t it? There’s also another point made in the 1828 version. “Hope differs from wish and desire in this, that it implies some expectation of obtaining the good desired, or the possibility of possessing it. Hope therefore always gives pleasure or joy; whereas wish and desire may produce or be accompanied with pain and anxiety.”

Read that last part one more time… Hope always gives pleasure or joy, whereas wish and desire may produce pain and anxiety. One might imagine a woeful, depressed, broken Moroni, clinging to life and sanity. Reading his writing, and considering the true meaning of one of his favorite topics, we get the real picture. Moroni was full of faith, hope, and charity, working on becoming perfected in Christ, loving his brethren and inviting us all to come unto Christ. If Webster’s was right, in 1828, Moroni was full of joy, not hate, fear, or self-pity. He was full of hope!

If you’re not quite convinced, take five minutes and read the last two and a half pages of the Book of Mormon—Moroni’s last words to us. Read about faith, hope, charity, despair, love, grace, spiritual gifts, gratitude, good, truth, sanctification, and rest. While he exhorts and challenges us, he does it with a sense of joy and love and hope for us as he bids his final farewell.

A last note about the power of these last chapters of the Book of Mormon. In late June, 1844, Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum, along with a couple of Apostles of the early Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, were headed to yet another jail on yet another trumped up charge. As they traveled, Joseph told his companions, “I am going like a lamb to the slaughter; but I am calm as a summer’s morning.”

That day, his brother Hyrum read to him from the Book of Mormon, presumably to comfort his brother and their companions. Hyrum read from Ether Chapter 12, in which Moroni is bidding farewell to the Gentiles, praying to the Lord to give them grace and charity. Hyrum read the comforting, ultimately prophetic verses, then turned down the corner of the page to mark the verses which he read. Two or three days later, Joseph and Hyrum were murdered by a mob of 150 to 200, shot to death in an Illinois jail (see Doctrine and Covenants 135).

How inspiring and humbling it is to think about this amazing cycle of spiritual connection. I imagine Joseph Smith, twenty years earlier, laboring to translate the records, learning of men like Mormon and Moroni. I see him reading their very prophecies of the coming forth of the Book of Mormon, and I envision Mormon and Moroni learning of how the record and Christ’s restored Church will come forth. I envision Joseph reading and preaching from the scriptures, teaching others, seeing their conversions through the words of this powerful book.

And then I imagine Joseph Smith, being torn yet again from his family, and imprisoned yet again by conspirators and mobsters. I can see Hyrum and Joseph reading in their last hours on Earth from the book they helped bring forth, which would bless countless lives for eternity. And I expect they, like Moroni and Momon, were once again filled with hope, comfort and joy.

Life is hard for us all, at some time or another. We face challenges; some of us will even have trials similar to those faced by Moroni and Mormon—losing family or friends, finding ourselves alone. Perhaps that is why their message is so meaningful to so many—they endured the unthinkable. I’m grateful for their sacrifice and their teaching. Even more, I appreciate the sacrifice, teaching, and love of Christ, the source of all good gifts, who did endure all things so He could comfort us. I appreciate His encouragement and belief in us. Through Him, we can experience that same comfort and joy… and hope.

Moroni was right... Man must hope.

Do as the Lord Has Done



I like to mark my scriptures as I read them. Some might say I go overboard, marking entire pages of particularly meaningful passages. But if I feel like marking something or jotting down an insight, cross reference or quotation, or even pasting a small note in between pages, I’ll do it.

I know some people have a marking ‘system,’ perhaps highlighting a certain topic in one color, words from the Savior in another color, gluing themed paper tabs to the outside of papers, etc. I don’t have a system, but there is one pattern I’ve unintentionally followed that has proven to be a real blessing in my life—for the almost thirty years that I’ve had this particular set of scriptures.

What is that pattern? I’ve tended to use the same pen and/or pencil in my scripture bag, until I lose it or wear it out. Typically, I’ll use it for a few years before swapping it out for something else. The blessing here is that I can tie marked passages or insights to a time in my life—the purple pencil years, the blue ink-pen-that bleeds-through years, the black-ballpoint-pen era, and so on. (Although, to be fair I think I always have a smudgy red pencil kicking around because that is still the dominant color in my scriptures!)

I received my scriptures from my parents almost thirty years ago. They are a beautiful blue leather set, a richer color than the navy ones typically sold today. The cowhide is also more supple than the samples I now see on store shelves, but of course that may be due to years of carry and use. The edges of the pages are a shiny silver that has all but worn off. The original bookmarks have torn away, and the two-and-a-half blue ribbons that remain to keep my place are ones that I have added over the years.

Altogether, there are a half-dozen distinctive colors that I’ve used at specific, specially remembered times—pages and passages that had particular meaning as I went through a specific chapter in my life. It is enlightening to reminisce and tie a marked insight to the challenges and blessings I experienced at that time.

For example, as I served as a missionary for two years in England, I’d occasionally use a different colored pencil to highlight passages, but I almost always made notes with a fine-tipped black ballpoint pen. Recognizing my handwriting in that ink brings back awesome memories of England!

I broke those new scriptures in while taking a New Testament Institute class. I deeply studied the Book of Mormon the following year as I moved to Utah and attended BYU. I put those scriptures to good use, studying while using a red pencil to highlight verses, and scribbling notes with the aforementioned blue pen that bled through just a little too much. The bad news—those red blotches and bled-through patches are a little, well, blotchy and bled through. But the good news? I can see what stood out to an eighteen-year-old me as I really dug into the scriptures for perhaps the first time.

 This week, I was again studying Christ’s visit to the people of the Americas shortly after His resurrection. 3 Nephi 27 has a handful of navy scribbled stars, a half sheet of paper I glued in during my mission days, and markings in every color. What jumped out at me though, are two notes I scribbled to myself as an eighteen year-old preparing to be a man, and in particular trying to understand the responsibilities of preparing for a mission.

Those two statements are “Do EVERYTHING in Jesus’ name” and “Do as the Lord has done.” Those notes are next to verses 7 and 21. While I don’t remember writing those notes, I perfectly remember the blue pen that made them, the one with the little metal tab broken off from the cap. And I remember reading the Book of Mormon intently as I tried to learn if God really existed, and if He really wanted me to go on a mission. And I remember the deal I made with God and with myself.




As I finished the Book of Mormon that fall, probably just weeks after writing those two statements to myself, I knelt and prayed, preparing to ask God if the Book of Mormon was really true. I knew that if it was, there was no question on whether I would serve a mission. As I knelt in the almost pitch-dark basement bedroom that night, I just couldn’t ask the question. I knew with my whole body and soul that the Book of Mormon was true, that Joseph Smith had translated it through the power of God, and that Christ’s primitive Church was again on the earth.




Some particularly well-marked pages

I felt that asking God if it was true would be like looking into the clear sky on a summer day and asking if the sky was blue, and if the sun was real. It would be absurd to ask—it was all staring me right in the face. The Holy Ghost told me the truth much more clearly than the sunny day would have told me the answers to the other questions. I had a tearful moment of gratitude and humility as I thanked God for His love and His witness. I gratefully, excitedly promised to keep up my end of the deal and serve a mission.

To back up a bit though, I would not have had that experience if I hadn’t spent a year or so re-reading the Book of Mormon, trying to seek the Spirit, asking God to help me understand what I read, pondering those things and applying them. As an 18 year-old, the power of the Book of Mormon inspired me to try to do everything in Jesus’ name and to do as the Lord has done.

Now I am sure as I worked and studied and goofed around that year, I did many things the Lord didn’t do, and were not worthy of His name. But the scriptures motivated me to think about and consider things of the Spirit. I remember being a little more careful about who I spent time with at that age, and I recall being more mindful of the music I listened to and the movies I watched. I wasn’t perfect—I was an 18-year-old punk in a lot of ways—but the power of the word of God helped me try to be more like Christ in small and simple ways.

The scriptures contain the word of God. For an interesting study session, go to LDS.org and search the scriptures for “power of the word,” and see the dozens of scriptures that show all the things that have been done by the power of the word of God. It is impressive and interesting to note that the same power by which the world was made will also help one eighteen-year-old make a small positive change in his life.

One could write volumes on what it means to do everything in Christ’s name and to do as the Lord has done. Here is one way I see that happening. As a young man, I always felt a distinctive difference when I walked into the chapel, no matter what else was going on. If I was playing ball or at a dance or skateboarding off the stage in the gym, if I walked into the chapel to cut across the building to go home, or went through it to make sure doors were locked, I felt like that was Christ’s chapel. There were just some things you didn’t do and some things you’d always do in the chapel. I’d quit dribbling the basketball, I’d lower my voice, I’d quit running and walk quietly through that chapel. I realized later that feeling was the Holy Ghost telling me this place was different—that this is where we worship the Savior.

To me, those statements in verses 7 and 21 are like that chapel personified. There are just some things you don’t do and some things you always do if you have associated yourself with the Savior, if you are doing things as His follower and representative or disciple, if you are striving to do what we know He has done.

I won’t write those volumes—not today anyway. But I will testify that when the Lord inspires me, through the Holy Scriptures and the Holy Ghost to make a change, He gives me power and support and confidence as I try to do as He has done. And though I know I can never be exactly like Him in this life, those experiences keep me progressing and trying and repenting and getting on track again, working towards perfection. Those two scribbled reminders, bleeding through the pages, are more applicable today than ever, helping me stay on the narrow path to the Savior.

How grateful I am for those scriptures, and for the Spirit’s ceaseless teaching!

Jesus Wept

The Book of Mormon, as “another witness of Jesus Christ,” blesses us in many ways. One of its greatest benefits is that it teaches us more about how God interacts with His children. In addition to clear insights on how we can learn about Him through personal revelation, the Book of Mormon also offers us further information about the characteristics of God the Father, His Son Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost.

Joseph Smith taught: “Having a knowledge of God, we begin to know how to approach Him, and how to ask so as to receive an answer. When we understand the character of God, and know how to come to Him, He begins to unfold the heavens to us, and to tell us all about it. When we are ready to come to Him, He is ready to come to us.”

Joseph also taught that if we don’t comprehend the character of God, then we can’t comprehend ourselves. Additionally, to cement in the disciple’s mind the importance of this principle, Joseph and other early Church leaders taught in Lectures on Faith that we must possess a “correct idea of (God’s) character, perfections and attributes” if we are to “exercise faith in God unto life and salvation.” Clearly it is desirable to study the character of God.

Volumes can be written, and have been written about God. I’m sure my contribution to these volumes is insignificant, yet I feel compelled to write about a simple characteristic of the Savior as found in John 11:35: Jesus wept.

So what is the significance of this two-word verse? I probably asked myself a version of that question a dozen times as a youth. It was always a ‘go-to’ scripture for quote-unquote “memorization,” or for sharing a scripture that you liked—right up there with “And my father dwelt in a tent.” If you grew up a Mormon, and especially if you attended seminary you probably rattled that scripture off a handful of times, and perhaps even made light of it.

As a missionary in Northeast England, I found new meaning in the thought of Christ weeping as I more closely studied the Book of Mormon. In fact, a certain passage became my favorite—the scripture that taught me more than I’d ever learned before about the character of Christ.

To best appreciate this passage, think of the devastating natural disasters that have occurred in your memory, or even just the last decade or two. Mines collapsing, earthquakes, hurricanes, tsunamis, fires, floods. Remember for a moment some of those images that flashed across TV news programs; destruction that just cannot be comprehended without being witnessed… and even upon witnessing it you still just can’t quite grasp what is happening.

The people who lived in the Americas at the time of Christ’s death endured destruction of every imaginable kind, and then waited and toiled and wept in complete darkness for three days. Imagine, your home is destroyed, you can’t find your children or your aging parents or your spouse—you don’t know if they are alive, or if they were enveloped in a fire or flood or earthquake or mudslide. All you can do is cry out for them, for three days in total darkness, wondering if an answer will ever come.

Imagine you’ve spent three days calling out, asking everyone you encounter if they’ve seen your precious lost one. You are exhausted, hungry, disoriented, thirsting, completely drained from lamenting and weeping and hoping. Finally, daylight comes and you try to put your home and family and life back together. Your sadness and mourning dissipate as you are reunited with many whom you thought were lost.  Your "mourning (is) turned to joy, and (your) lamentations into the praise and thanksgiving of the Lord Jesus Christ" (3 Ne 10:10).

Days later, as you are gathered at the temple, the Savior appears. Jesus Christ, the resurrected Son of God, who atoned for your sins and your shortcomings and your sadnesses and your heartaches, teaches and blesses and explains and ministers to you, and prays in your behalf in ways so precious they cannot be written. Just days ago you were surrounded by darkness and death and fear and worry, and then, according to the scriptures, “no one can conceive of the joy which filled (your soul) at the time (you) heard Him pray for (you) unto the Father” (3 Ne. 17:17).

But the priceless moment was not yet over. The multitude of 2500 was kneeling with the Savior as He prayed, and in verses 19 and 20 we read that Jesus tells the people to arise. He then says, “Blessed are ye because of your faith.” Imagine! The Savior Himself praying—for you!—and then envision Him telling you that you’re blessed because of your faith! He then continues, “And now, behold my joy is full.”

We read that Jesus then wept, and took hundreds of children, “one by one, and blessed them, and prayed unto the Father for them. And when He had done this He wept again.” Finally, He tells all the adults to behold the little ones, as angels ministered to them in the closing verses of 3 Ne. chapter 17.

When I first seriously pondered those verses, imagining myself at the scene, I was probably first converted to the emotional beauty of the picture that was painted. It’s amazing to think about, isn’t it? Going from the devastation and dark to the light, and The Light, and to imagine Christ weeping for the people as He prayed for them. It made me think of the tenderness of Christ and His love for all of the children of God.

I later came to understand deeper meaning and insight into the character of Christ as revealed in these verses. In very real ways, Christ did, and does, and will yet pray for me; as He suffered for my sins, as he advocates to Heavenly Father in my name now, and as He will yet plead for me after this life, when I approach His judgment seat.

I am one of Christ’s ‘little ones,’ as are you; and He has wept, and I imagine He does weep, and will yet weep for us as we fall short and come to Him with broken hearts and contrite spirits. I imagine an infinite amount of His tears are shed for our sins, our heartaches, and our joys. In very real ways, angels minister to you and to me as they did at Christ’s command over two thousand years ago, as I believe they will thousands of years from now.

There are a handful of instances in the scriptures in which we can read of the Lord weeping, and studying each one helps us better understand the character of God. Consequently, studying these episodes helps us better comprehend ourselves, and helps us develop “faith in God unto life and salvation.” I’ll briefly lay out a few of those occasions in which we can read of the Lord weeping.

In the aforementioned John 11:35, Jesus has come to the burial site of Lazarus. We read about Christ raising Lazarus from the dead in verses 30-44. Just as importantly, we read of Christ weeping as He saw beloved friends and family and disciples grieving over Lazarus’ death. We read of His praying to the Father and of His power and humility and reverence and gratitude to the Father on our behalf. There is much to learn about the character of God in these verses!

In Moses 7:28, Enoch sees the Lord weeping over His children, and marvels, “How is it thou canst weep?” In this chapter we learn of God’s love for us as His workmanship, and as the children to whom He gave knowledge, agency, and the commandment to love each other. It seems to be the fact that His children do not love each other that truly causes God to weep. What parent can’t relate to this notion? And what can we learn from pondering God weeping over His precious children and the choices we make?

In Luke 19:41, Jesus rides triumphantly toward Jerusalem, in a sort of humble makeshift parade (at least that is how I envision it). As they approach the city, Jesus “weeps over it.” It is easy to put yourself in His shoes and find reasons to weep, isn’t it? Christ could have been weeping because the people largely rejected Him or disbelieved on Him. He could have wept because of the murder of His beloved cousin John. He could weep because of the pain and misery He saw coming—the very mission He was sent to perform.

He could have wept because of the rejection of His own family members, or the thought of being betrayed with a kiss by one of His chosen special witnesses. Jesus had every right to feel sad, and literally every single reason in the history of mankind to weep over. But what do the scriptures say He wept over? “If thou hadst known… the things which belong unto thy peace!” He wept because He could see their impending earthly and spiritual destruction. They could not see the way to eternal peace, though it dwelt among them and would soon die for them.

Think of it… Jesus Christ, who knows all things from beginning to end, who certainly knew that for many His message would fall on spiritually deaf, mocking ears, wept for those who would not listen. We can learn much of His character from pondering this passage, and the longsuffering and diligence with which He ministered in His mortal mission.

This thought is echoed in another passage in the Book of Mormon. In Jacob Chapter 5, we read the Allegory of Zenos, in which the history of mankind is represented in a parable of a vineyard. In verse 41, the Lord weeps as He looks at His vineyard, or children, and laments to His servant, “What could I have done more for my vineyard?”

What a poignant, incomparable thought. There are a couple ways to read the allegory: either the Lord of the vineyard is God the Father, and the servant is Jesus the Christ, or the Lord of the vineyard is Christ himself, and the servant is the prophet. In either case, we can learn much about the character of God. This could be the Father saying, essentially, “I gave everything I had, and did all I could, even sacrificing my beloved, only begotten Son, yet you would not listen and follow.” His glorious work and glory would not be enjoyed by all of His children.

Or, we can envision this statement from Christ himself, who gave all, whose entire mission is to bring us back to the Father, who suffered infinitely in scope and severity and humility and submissiveness, all so that we might not suffer even as He did. And the thought that in spite of that, some of His beloved younger brothers and sisters would still choose to suffer caused Him to weep.

These are the main passages I have found in my study of why and when the Lord weeps. We can also envision Him weeping in the garden, as He took upon himself all of the sins and trials of each of God’s children, collectively and individually. We read in the Gospels that even as He approached the Mount of Olives, He grew sorrowful, heavy, and was “sore amazed.” Jesus told the twelve His soul was “exceeding sorrowful, unto death.”

We read of His agony, of His praying for the bitter cup to pass, of His freely partaking of that cup, and of Him sweating great drops of blood. We can envision Him crying for us, as He felt the pains and endured the punishment that we all deserve, taken by Him because of His love for us.

I can also envision Him weeping on the cross, if He had any tears left to shed. Not simply because of the pain or humiliation of this torturous death, but as He beheld His mother, and His family, and His friends and followers. I can see Him weeping as He gave a few last words of instruction and comfort—to the thief, to His mother, to John. And I can envision Him weeping as He cried out for His Father from the cross, in those closing moments of Atonement when Father withdrew His presence from His Beloved Son.

I’m grateful for the scriptures, which teach us the character of God. I’m especially grateful for those passages that seem personalized and have greater meaning to us, as the verses in 3 Nephi 17 do for me. And I testify that not only does learning more of the character of God help us better comprehend ourselves, it helps us come closer to Him, as Joseph Smith taught us years ago.

I’m thankful for a God who loves us, who lived and died and atoned for us, who created us, who pleads for us, who carries and tries and prepares and strengthens us.

And I’m thankful for a God who weeps.

Gratitude and the Anti-Christ (Alma 30)

There is an interesting little anecdote almost exactly halfway through the book of Alma in the Book of Mormon. It is, in fact also just about smack dab in the middle of the Book of Mormon itself. It’s the story of Korihor, and it comprises Alma chapter 30.

The story seems wedged into the sequence of Alma and his contemporaries; it occurs in between ‘preaching missions’ and wars. To me, it really stands out, almost seeming disjointed or placed in as an afterthought. For this reason, I think Mormon must have really felt compelled to include it as he compiled and edited centuries’ worth of records… It doesn't exactly flow with the narrative of the Book of Alma to me, but it’s certainly important!

I won’t recap all the details of the account, just a couple things that really stand out to me. The first thing I noted was how similar the sentiments which Korihor proclaimed are to many of today’s voices. Korihor said the believers were foolish, they had been indoctrinated through family traditions, and that you cannot know there is a Christ. He called them deranged, due to the effects of ‘frenzied minds,’ and that they were in ‘bondage’ to those traditions.

He taught there should be no guilt, that there was no ‘falling’ or ‘saving.’ He claimed the leaders of the Church suppressed the people and led them to believe this way so they could ‘glut (themselves) with the labors of their hands.’

Korihor was wise and crafty, and he used ‘great swelling words.’ His charge was that there is no evidence that there is a God. Alma’s response is the key point I want to highlight in this post.

Alma’s conviction is this: we have ‘all things’ as a testimony, or evidence of God’s existence. He says, “…all things denote there is a God; yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it, yea, and its motion, yea, and also all the planets which move in their regular form do witness that there is a Supreme Creator” (Alma 30:44).  

I am often struck by how important attitude is. Alma’s grateful heart, his testimony bolstered as he saw evidence of God’s existence and love everywhere he looked—“in all things”—was a choice as well as a blessing. Faith is a gift we are given when we choose to obey and to do and to believe. Korihor refused to partake of this gift—he made that choice; that was the attitude he chose.

I am not saying that if we aren’t grateful, and don’t see and confess God’s hand everywhere we look that we will end up like Korihor. But ancient prophets, as well as modern prophets from Joseph Smith to Thomas S. Monson have talked of the importance of gratitude. We would all do well to look at the world with a prayer and desire of seeing God’s hand in it. When I pray for this, and look for this, the Lord shows me great things. I become less like Korihor, and more like Alma, and ultimately more like Christ.

I’ll close with a poem by Walt Whitman that I discovered while I sat in a hospital room, next to my son Liam as he recovered from brain surgery. It is entitled ‘Miracles,’ and I have a feeling Alma would have approved of it!

Miracles

Why, who makes much of a miracle?
As to me I know of nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,
Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water,
Or stand under trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with any one I love, or sleep in the bed at night
with any one I love,
Or sit at table at dinner with the rest,
Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car,
Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon,
Or animals feeding in the fields,
Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air,
Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so quiet
and bright,
Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring;
These with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles,
The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place.

To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
Every cubic inch of space is a miracle,
Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same,
Every foot of the interior swarms with the same.
To me the sea is a continual miracle,
The fishes that swim--the rocks--the motion of the waves--the
ships with men in them,
What stranger miracles are there?

Taking a Left Turn

Some of you know I'm taking classes in my abundance of spare time, through BYU-Idaho's Pathway program. (Not-so-humble-brag... my report card is pictured at right). While the initial intent of this blog was to share insights on the teachings and example of Nephi, I'm going to start posting other Book of Mormon thoughts that tie to the Religion class I'm taking.

I posted a couple other 'Nephi Notes' this morning, to catch up a little bit with some stuff that has been rattling around in my mind. Going forward, I'll add a 'Nephi' label (looks like a little price tag, with keywords at the bottom of each post). That way I (and if you care, you) will know which of the posts are in true harmony with my appreciation for and thoughts on Nephi.

Thanks for reading!

Hear Ye the Words of the Prophet (1 Ne. 19:24)

As Nephi closes out the final chapters in his first book, he is trying to convince his brothers (and his readers) about the reality of Jesus Christ’s atonement, and how His plan will unfold with regards to all of God’s children. He discusses the Jews, the Gentiles, and those who ‘broke off’ or were scattered—covering all humanity and how they fit into God’s plan. Quoting many prophets, and then introducing two transcribed chapters of Isaiah, he counsels, “Hear ye the words of the prophet.”

What a simple, yet profoundly powerful statement! It has many connotations, doesn’t it? In one sense, we hear him saying something like, “Hey, slow down and listen to what the prophets have written.” On a deeper level, he may be telling us, “Okay, you’ve listened, but have you really heard what the Lord is telling you?” Ultimately, I believe he wants us to listen intently, to a degree that compels us to act with more purpose. No matter who we are, or what our ‘level’ of spiritual understanding or commitment, we can try to better ‘hear’ the words of the prophets, both ancient and modern.

In April, 2008, my family and I watched the Latter-day Saint Semi-Annual General Conference on TV, as we always do. As usual, the multi-day conference concluded with a short address by the President of the Church, whom Mormons appreciate as our leader and as a prophet whom God inspires and directs to lead our Church. In this case, it was Thomas S. Monson’s first General Conference as President of the Church; the beloved Gordon B. Hinckley, his predecessor, had died a couple months earlier.

I heard President Monson speak clearly and powerfully, in a way that was incredibly warm and loving and, interestingly, almost chastising, but with love, kindness, and sincerity. I felt like his words were directing me to make some needed changes in how I dealt with my family and spent my time. The words were succinct, powerful, and again, they seemed directed at me! During these last few minutes of Conference, I could barely contain the emotions that filled me; feelings of appreciation for God and my family, and for this special experience. I quietly stepped out of the family room and prayed, giving thanks, repenting, and resolving to do what the prophet was challenging me to do. I was moved beyond words.

On its own, that experience was sufficient to solidify my testimony that God loves us enough to send special witnesses like these. However, as if He wanted to make sure I got the message, there was further Heavenly confirmation to come. A week or so later, when I read the transcript online of President Monson’s talk, and even when I watched replays of it on video, much of the message I had heard was not there. The remarks, as I later read them, were uplifting, and they certainly contained wonderful sentiments, but they did not contain the loving, corrective direction I had heard on that previous Sunday. I believe that initial counsel had been meant for me, and had been delivered by the power of the Holy Ghost.

The specific things I heard that day were absolutely not heard in subsequent reviewing of this address, and I know with all my heart that the words were not manufactured by my own imagination or emotion. Seven years later, my witness of that event, and my appreciation for Nephi’s counsel to “hear the words of the prophet,” are only deeper and stronger.

What can we all do to better hear the words of the prophet today?

I Must Obey (2 Nephi 33:15)

Nephi’s father Lehi had many visions and dreams (1 Ne 1:16, 18). He preached and prophesied to the people, exhorting them to follow the Lord, in spite of mockery and threats on his life. Nephi certainly learned to be obedient from his father’s powerful example, and he set out from the first chapter he recorded on the small plates to show us that the tender mercies of the Lord bless those who obey faithfully.

In 1 Ne 2:1-3, we learn that Lehi will be blessed for his faithfulness, and a pattern soon develops: Interestingly, the way the Lord blesses Lehi is by giving him more commandments. Nephi learns from a young age that the Lord blesses the faithful with further direction. His father taught him that true faithfulness is doing, and being obedient (1 Ne 2:3). Leaving Jerusalem, and his land of inheritance with his estate and possessions resulted in the survival of Lehi and his seed, and provided marvelous, sanctifying, faith promoting experiences.

When Lehi had traveled for many days in the wilderness, he was rewarded for his obedience with a commandment to go back for the brass plates. When this mission was complete, they were blessed with the charge to return for Ishmael and his family. Once they had wandered for a sufficiently long time, they were blessed with the commandment to build a ship, and so forth. A study of the Book of Mormon shows the many, many times the family built altars, gave thanks, seemingly ‘gave up’ all, and were blessed in even greater magnitude, with further commandment, direction, and refinement.

We soon learn that Nephi’s brothers do not share his faith, and that they murmur in the face of commandment and adversity. They “knew not the dealings of that God who created them” (see 1 Ne. 2:11-12). Nephi later explains a probable cause for their condition—they did not enquire of the Lord. Conversely, Nephi had great desires to know the mysteries of God, and cried unto the Lord from an exceedingly young age. The Lord softened his heart, and Nephi believed the words of his father.

Nephi certainly was obedient and faithful of his own freewill and accord. However, the Book of Mormon also teaches us that increased faithfulness and obedience are also actually blessings from God. When Lehi tells Nephi of the Lord’s commandment to go back to Jerusalem to get the brass plates, Nephi states he will do as the Lord commanded. Lehi is of course ‘exceedingly glad,’ and Nephi affirms that his attitude and resolve indicated he had been ‘blessed of the Lord.’ Obeying the Lord’s word (or the promptings of the Holy Ghost) results in further capacity and desire to be faithful and obedient.

With thirty years of experience following the Lord; being blessed, challenged, commanded, humbled, and sanctified by Him, Nephi’s perspective and testimony had certainly grown, and his writings and ‘framing up’ of the Book of Mormon are important, if not essential components of the Book of Mormon. Nephi’s diligence, his mindset that he ‘must obey,’ certainly set the stage for the subsequent authors and stories in the Book of Mormon. His faithfulness contributed mightily to the Lord’s ‘wise purpose’ indeed. And the predictable pattern—obedience resulting in further commandment—is one we can emulate today in striving to obtain a faith and perspective similar to those of Nephi.

Led to a Land of Promise (1 Nephi 2:20)

In the opening pages of the Book of Mormon, Nephi’s father Lehi has a vision in which Jerusalem is destroyed. He is commanded by the Lord to warn the people of the city, who mock and even seek to kill him. Subsequently, the Lord commands Lehi to take his family and flee into the Arabian wilderness. He is told that if he keeps the Lord’s commandments, he and his family will be “led to a land of promise; yea, even a land which I have prepared for you; yea, a land which is choice above all other lands” (1 Ne 2:20).

We read of the family’s highs and lows, their periods of trial and times of blessing. Their course is not easy. Young mothers had babies and reared children in tents and on the move. They endured times of near-starvation, avoiding marauders along the way. There were internal family struggles, including death threats among brothers and in-laws. Loved ones died, their ailments and suffering certainly compounded because of the physical conditions they endured. A dozen years after leaving the comfort of the family’s lands and estate, they landed in the Americas, where they had to plant and harvest and build a new life and community from the ground up.

From a certain view, all that work and sacrifice may not seem like such a reward. However, all of God’s children can benefit from the sacrifice and faith of Nephi and his family. Consider the additional scriptures brought forth, the record of Christ’s visit to the Americas, and the restoration of so many of God’s truths and doctrines as a result. Nephi knew he was blessed, and because of his faithful perseverance, I’ve been blessed too.

Years ago, when our first son Ethan was just a baby, I had a dream. My wife Darcie and I were walking, pushing Ethan in a small, rickety stroller. We walked for miles, day and night for weeks and weeks. We were in a seemingly never-ending run-down city that can only be described as a slum. It was dirty, dangerous and scary, and we walked through wind and rain and heat. Finally, we climbed a great hill, arriving at a new house in a lovely neighborhood with tree-lined streets. We somehow knew this new house was our home, and we walked through its doors in peaceful, joyful comfort.

I have often pondered that dream, thinking of its significant lessons. On one level, I took comfort, knowing the six days a week I worked while we lived in a tiny, old, rented duplex would eventually pay off, and we would one day live in a nicer home. Over time, I grew to believe the dream was not meant to teach or remind me about striving for prosperity, but to encourage me as I fought through challenges that come to a young father doing his best to raise a family—a message something like, ‘don’t worry, you’ll get through this.’

After almost twenty years of thinking of this simple dream, I have thought of other lessons it teaches. The house in my dream was clean, bright, and beautiful, but also modest. It reminds me not to aspire for riches, but to put the Lord first and let Him take care of the rest of my temporal needs. The dream is also a reminder of the mansions the Lord has prepared for us in His Father’s house.

The parallel between traveling to the house in my dream, and the Nephites’ striving to reach a promised land prepared by God, didn’t dawn on me until a recent re-reading of Nephi’s writings. Prayerfully reading the scriptures, pondering them, and also contemplating the lessons of my own little dream has led me to ask myself a new question…

What promised land (metaphorically and literally) has the Lord prepared for me to reach in this life? And what land of promise has He prepared for you?

Feast Upon the Words of Christ

Fifty-five years after Nephi left Jerusalem, he concludes his record. He had kept these records for decades, leaving Jerusalem as an ‘exceedingly young’ man, and had reflected, pondered, and recorded the most sacred, precious events of his life. He surely put a lot of thought into his parting words, and they ought to be studied!

Nephi lays out the basic principles of faith, repentance, baptism, and receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost—all the key steps of getting onto the straight and narrow path leading back to our Heavenly Father’s presence. He then talks of the importance of what we do after getting onto the path. Among Nephi’s final words of advice to us: “Feast upon the words of Christ; for behold the words of Christ will tell you all things what ye should do.”

Nephi’s love of the scriptures—the ‘words of Christ’—is evident throughout his writings; he quotes many prophets, expounds on the visions he and his father Lehi had, used scripture stories to teach his family, and drew strength from the accounts of others in facing his own spiritual and physical challenges. Perhaps no other phrase than ‘feasting on the words of Christ’ can sum up his conviction on the importance of scripture study.

A tray of fruit to start-- Rob has killer knife skills!

One of the appealing things about the Book of Mormon is the straightforward approach of much of its language, especially when compared to the Old Testament. For example, Ezekiel had a vision where an angel lays out a roll of parchment. We pick up the narrative in Ezekiel 3:1. “Moreover he said unto me, Son of man, eat that thou findest; eat this roll, and go speak unto the house of Israel. So I opened my mouth, and he caused me to eat that roll. And he said unto me, Son of man, cause thy belly to eat, and fill thy bowels with this roll that I give thee.” While the Book of Ezekiel contains beautifully written prophecy and counsel, I appreciate Nephi’s directness in proclaiming, “feast upon the words of Christ.”

I’m reminded of a time when my wife’s brother Robert came to visit our family during the week of Mother’s Day. Robert, a trained chef, cooked for us seemingly all weekend, delivering what can only be described as an exquisite feast!

Chef Rob and Me

Every ingredient of every dish had been chosen with care—he and Darcie had visited several markets to get the freshest meat, fish, fruits and vegetables, all grown or harvested locally. His knives were sharpened to exact precision, he had specific music he liked to cook to. Every dish was prepared with exact attention to detail—the vegetables and fruit were sliced uniformly, each component seasoned precisely, all of it cooked to perfection; every course building on the flavor and delight of the previous one. It was remarkable! He is a true craftsman, and it was a joy to watch him work.

And of course, eating the literal fruits of all that labor was just awesome! A highlight was the seared halibut cheeks in an incredible sauce—it all came together amazingly! Every bite was to be savored—I chewed slowly, letting the layers of flavor permeate what felt like my whole soul. Each bite was anticipated and treasured, and I’ll never forget that meal. That was feasting!

How much more lovingly has God prepared His plan for us! How much more detailed is the creation, how much deeper the impact of the Atonement, how much more to be sampled, treasured, and feasted upon in His Word, than in that magnificent meal Chef Rob prepared for me? The answer, of course, is infinitely more. God’s love, power, glory, grace, and words are to be not just read about, thought about, or wondered about. As Nephi counsels, they are to be feasted upon, for a lifetime and beyond!

Just a portion of Rob's feast prep

An Introduction to Nephi

Around 550 B.C. a man wrote, "…the words which I have spoken are sufficient to teach any man the right way; for the right way is to believe in Christ." Who was this man, boldly proclaiming his teachings would help men and women know the right way and draw closer to God? Where did he live, how did he see the world, and what did he experience? What can we gain by trying to learn of Nephi’s perspective?

Nephi left his family's estate near Jerusalem when they fled the Holy Land around 600 B.C., avoiding the destruction that had been prophesied. He became the group's leader as his family attracted more followers and grew into an industrious community.

By developing his faith, humility, and determination, he helped the community navigate and survive for years, eventually building a ship, crossing the ocean, and settling in the Americas—a journey that lasted well over a decade. He recorded the historical and spiritual high points of his family and community throughout his adult life, and those writings begin what is now known as the Book of Mormon.

Nephi had visions, including seeing the birth and atonement of Jesus Christ. He taught powerfully; his words are the introduction for many to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 2500 years after he wrote them. 'Mormons' get their nickname from the ancient prophet-historian who compiled centuries' worth of writing into the volume that would bear his name, The Book of Mormon.

As a lifelong Latter-day Saint, or “Mormon” I have read the stories of Nephi’s extraordinary life countless times. I have a Bible and Book of Mormon that I have read in tandem for nearly 30 years. As you can imagine, these scriptures are well-marked and well-worn; lots of dog-eared pages, a few torn sheets, a little water damage here and there, with margins full of scribbled thoughts and many notes pasted in between pages. These volumes are like close friends—I can find favorite passages almost instinctively, through the color of the ink or a note pasted or scribbled on a sheet, or the way the books open to certain pages. A couple months ago, however, I had an impression that I should try studying the scriptures with a fresh approach.

For about four months, I’d traveled almost non-stop for my job. Most nights were spent in hotels, and I found myself with a bit of spare time, in spite of the increased hours I was putting into work. During this time, I fell in love with reading some old classics all over again—Shakespeare, poetry from Whitman, Thoreau, and others, and favorites from my youth, like Tolkien and Ray Bradbury. As I re-read a lot of this stuff—works I hadn’t touched in well over 20 or 30 years, as well as a few pieces I’d never read before, the beauty and complexity and depth of the language, not just the stories, struck me profoundly.

As I pored over these books, I recalled a high school English teacher talking about close reading almost thirty years ago. Close reading is just that—finding new depth and meaning by really exploring the wording, phrasing, syntax, etc. of an author. To me, it is like trying to discover how many new possible layers or meanings you can get out of a paragraph or line, or even the choice of one word. Reading some of these works with the desire to closely read and discover new meaning was a thrill.

Most thrilling, though was taking a similar approach to my study of the Book of Mormon, the 531 pages of which I have read dozens of times in 35 years or so of scripture-reading. I got a new, unmarked, cheap paperback copy of the Book, and started reading for thirty minutes a day or more, noting insights and discoveries in its margins and in a notebook.

The flood of knowledge and insight that filled my mind and heart is indescribable! Approaching the Book of Mormon with a fresh approach, and a newly rekindled desire to discover new direction and meaning within its pages became like a treasure hunt for me, and I found those hidden gems daily. Within just a few days, I gained a belief that I could study just the works of Nephi for months (or even years) and never stop learning from and loving his words. And for the past few months I have been re-reading the words of Nephi, and still finding new connections or insights every day! It's been fun trying to better understand Nephi’s perspective—what he wrote, why he wrote it, what he meant.

Reading with this perspective and a sense of discovery, and not simply reverting to the previous insights I've already had, I have tried to capture my thoughts and will share them with my friends and family. I hope you find a fraction of the pleasure, and the desire to further study, that I have been blessed with by more closely reading the words of the prophet Nephi.