Close Reading the Book of Mormon: Connection in 1 Nephi 1-5

This post is part of a project where I read The Book of Mormon with a focus on various themes. You can read more about the idea for this project by clicking here. If you'd like to see all the posts in this series, click here.

My Book of Mormon reading expedition starts with the first five chapters of 1 Nephi. Here's a quick synopsis of what happens:

We're introduced to a man named Nephi, who begins telling a family story. The story focuses heavily on his father, Lehi, who is told in a vision from God that he needs to preach repentance to his city. His fellow citizens don't take kindly to this and want to kill him, so he is again directed by God, this time to leave Jerusalem and go into the wilderness with his family. The family consists of Lehi, his wife Sariah, and four sons -- Laman, Lemuel, Sam, and Nephi. In the wilderness, Laman and Lemuel are disrespectful of Lehi's teachings and spiritual abilities. Nephi is more receptive and eventually prays about what his father has told him; he is answered with a vision of his own. Shortly thereafter, Lehi tells his sons to go back to Jerusalem to retrieve some family records (called the brass plates) from a relative called Laban. The brothers go but are turned away at first. They return to Laban and try to trade some of their gold and silver for the plates, but Laban takes their riches and chases the brothers away with threats. Laman and Lemuel blame Nephi and begin beating him. An angel appears and tells them to stop. Nephi makes one more attempt to get the plates on his own, finds Laban collapsed and unconscious on the street, and is told by some spiritual force to kill Laban in order to get the plates. Nephi follows this prompting and then puts on Laban's clothes, convinces one of Laban's servants that he's actually Laban, and finally gets the brass plates. Nephi (still masquerading as Laban) returns with the servant (named Zoram) to where his brothers are waiting and, once he's revealed his true identity, convinces Zoram to travel back into the wilderness with them. The group returns to Lehi and Sariah.

These chapters offered a lot of material, and while I think I'll narrow down my thoughts in future posts, the richness for this first go-round was impressive enough that I wanted to share as much as possible.

Close Reading The Book of Mormon

I grew up with scriptures. My church had four sacred volumes: the Bible, the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine & Covenants, and the Pearl of Great Price. Cheap paperback editions of the Book of Mormon popped up like weeds and multiplied like bunnies, it seemed. They were everywhere all the time. And when I turned eight, I got my own set of scriptures, bound in bonded leather, embossed with my name in pink, held inside a zippered case (also pink). I liked underlining certain passages with my sharp red pencil, and I read the chapters and verses, but really, the scriptures were never all that important to me. They didn't capture my imagination or fill me with spiritual nourishment, not even when I became a teenager or an adult or a mom. Between the parts that offended me and the parts that confused me, I figured I wasn't meant for great intellectual engagement with the stories on these pages.

And that was all fine and good, except for my patriarchal blessing. That's Mormon-speak for a special, individual blessing given to a member of the church -- often in their teenage years -- and then transcribed for future reference. A patriarchal blessing is meant to be a source of guidance and insight throughout the recipient's life. I received mine when I was 14, and I've occasionally returned to a certain line in my blessing and wondered what to make of it. The line talks about how important the scriptures will be in my life and advises me to make a serious study of them. It seemed out of keeping with what I knew about myself.

ReStarting Faith

Faith comes easily to me, and I've often wondered why. Why do I have this instinct to believe? I think it's just the way I was made, created to lean towards my feelings and inner compass with almost no consideration for proof, logic, or reason. That's not to say those things don't matter -- they do. And I have an analytical mind that loves stacking up pieces of evidence like wooden blocks, comparing the heights of towers side by side. Analyzing things and constructing arguments to back up my conclusions ... that kind of thing is fun for me.

But still, when it comes down to it and I'm tapped in to my true heart, I am simply willing to believe whatever things feel true, whatever ideas seem right, without compiling any evidence to prove it. (I believe Stephen Colbert calls that truthiness. It's a dangerous thing to rely too heavily on truthiness, but maybe it's okay in moderation and/or in a select few areas of life.)

There's an episode of the show New Girl where the lead character, Jess, explains why she believed in Santa Claus for so long: "I just believe things and go on believing them. If someone tells me a fat man's bringing me dolls every year, I just don't question it." I can relate, fictional ladyfriend. If a belief is working for me, if it's adding something wonderful to my life, I'm not one to be skeptical.