Wrestling with the Book of Mormon

Today (September 21) is the anniversary of Joseph Smith's first visions of the angel Moroni, according to the dating given in JS-H 1:27. And as it happens, my reading for today was 3 Nephi 12-15, which consists chiefly of the Book of Mormon's version of the Sermon on the Mount. That coincidence prompts me to reflect on the centrality of the Sermon on the Mount to the Book of Mormon—i.e., the sermon is delivered as part of the christophany that, as I noted last week, constitutes the book's climax—which in turn has me thinking about the Book of Mormon as an "evangelical" document, i.e., as a text that aims to promote Christian revival and that invites us to understand Mormonism as an extended meditation on biblical teachings. So while I've filled the margins of 3 Nephi 12-15 with notes, let me pull back from all that, at least for a bit, and explore the preceding statement more, as a way of reflecting on the Book of Mormon's significance in my life on the occasion of its anniversary.

What does the Book of Mormon mean to me? My relationship with the book is complicated, like my relationship with the LDS tradition generally. I've noticed that the general trend of my reading this year (as reflected in my blogging) has been to read the book resistingly. ("Wrestling" with the text, according to one respondent's post.) Four years ago, the last time I was studying the Book of Mormon along with the Sunday School curriculum, my reading was more focused on reclaiming the book. In other words, four years ago, I tended to focus more on what comes after the "but" in the statement "The Book of Mormon conveys messages I definitely don't believe in, but I also definitely believe that the Spirit teaches me through this book." This year, probably because as I'm blogging I'm trying to offer decidedly liberal reflections on the scriptures and therefore want to make clear where I differ from more orthodox readings, I've found myself underscoring the part before the "but," though I always try to end on what I feel the Spirit is teaching me.

But I do need to make clear that for all my wrestling with the text, I do embrace this text as scripture. Four years ago, as I was reading 1 Nephi 11, I was struck with the idea that the Book of Mormon is a tangible sign of God's love, and for a while that sense prompted me to adopt the custom of kissing the book (a gesture of piety I borrowed from Jewish practice). Four years later, I found myself summing up my feelings about the Book of Mormon last month during a conversation at Sunstone by saying that my reading this year had left me vividly aware of how puerile the Book of Mormon can be, but the mystery of God's grace is that the book is nevertheless an important channel through which I communicate with the Spirit of truth, the Comforter, whom Christ sends to teach us all things.

I fell in love with the Book of Mormon on my mission (as I was supposed to). There were occasions when I would come home after a particular trying incident and the mere act of opening the book would give me a sense of peace. I was frequently copying out verses that spoke to the situation I found myself in right then and taping them to my wall—verses that gave me ideas about how to help investigators, or that inspired me to stay motivated and optimistic and consecrated. I could talk about my love for each of the other standard works, too, but the mission was where the Book of Mormon really began to speak to me—more precisely, when the Spirit began to speak to me through the Book of Mormon—in a powerful way. My engagement with the book hasn't been so powerful since my mission. Partly, I suspect, that's because I'm no longer immersed in the spiritual intensity of mission life. Partly it's because my post-mission liberalization has made it harder work, frankly, to read the book in spiritually meaningful ways, since my reading is a constant act of wresting the book away from the orthodox, who have become adamant in the past few decades that they have sole proprietary rights. And it occurs to me that my relationship with the Book of Mormon may have lost its initial intensity in the same way that the initial excitement dies down as a romance settles into a marriage.

What about that idea I said I wanted to explore of the Book of Mormon as an "evangelical" document? The book is a product of the very early LDS tradition—the first stratum, we could say, in our faith's geologic or archaeological record. Mormonism was still very . . . Methodist, let's say. New Light revivalist. Puritan in certain key ways. Millennialist. Primitivist. The tradition hadn't yet developed in the more radical directions it would take in Nauvoo and pioneer Utah, though you can see the seeds of those developments here. What all this means, practically, is that when I read the Book of Mormon, I'm engaging with a text that's calling me to Christian essentials: conversion and a life of holiness. This is why the Book of Mormon became so important to LDS spirituality during the 1980s as part of the cultivation of an overtly Christ-centered Mormon ethos. Christlike living—that's what the Book of Mormon boils down to, and so it's a particularly effective instrument through which the Spirit calls me to take stock of my Christian discipleship.

At the same time, the Book of Mormon embodies the Mormon faith in continuing revelation, which is key to my spirituality as a liberal. And here's where I can orbit more tightly around the reading for today. The Book of Mormon is a reiteration of the gospel proclaimed in the Christian Bible, but it also seeks to provide new light, clarification, correction even, beyond the biblical text. 3 Nephi 12-15 illustrates that beautifully. These chapters revise the biblical text: some words or phrases are added, others are cut. The Book of Mormon updates the biblical text, as in 12:17-20, and it offers new interpretations of the text, as in 15:16-24. This is not a slavish reading of the Bible: the Book of Mormon is supposed to affirm biblical historicity, but it is at the same time far removed from the notions of biblical infallibility that would eventually become definitive for fundamentalist and evangelical Protestants. Joseph Smith is wrestling with the Bible—as I now wrestle with the Book of Mormon—and as time goes on, his wrestling leads him to new interpretations, new ideas, that take him farther afield from where he began, even as he retains important ties to where he started, until he's espousing religious beliefs and practices that evangelicals denounce as heresy.

I should perhaps clarify that I'm writing all this off the top of my head, as I go along. And I feel that as I've done so, the Spirit has guided me to a valuable insight. It's helped me connect with the book more deeply—to identify with the book more deeply. The Book of Mormon is an evangelical document that nevertheless wrestles with evangelicalism and thus represents the beginning of a process of continuing revelation that leads Mormonism to develop in decidedly un-evangelical directions. Plug in the word "orthodox" for "evangelical," and that statement works pretty well for describing my relationship with the Book of Mormon and LDS tradition more generally. I keep wrestling with this text, this keystone of Mormon orthodoxy, because it calls me to the fundamentals of Christian living that I and the orthodox ought to have in common while at the same time it serves as a sign and instrument of continuing revelation, creative re-interpretation, selective reading by the spirit of inspiration, progressive insight . . . all ultimately leading me away from orthodoxy.

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God and Shepherd of all the earth—

I give you thanks for the gift of the Book of Mormon.
I give thanks for the many ways that your Spirit has comforted, guided, and inspired me through this book over the years.

I give thanks for continuing revelation as I have experienced it in my own life, my own spiritual journeying.
I give thanks for the openness to continuing revelation that has enabled Latter-day Saints to make healthy corrections and adaptations in the course of their history.
I pray that the Saints will not close themselves off to your voice when you try to reveal truths that are at odds with their current understanding.
I pray that for myself, too.

I pray that the Book of Mormon will be an instrument for inspiring Christlike living in those who read it.
I pray that it will be, as it promises, an instrument for confounding falsehood, laying down contention, and establishing peace.
I pray the book will be a sign of gathering and of your love for all people.

In Christ's name, amen.