What Salvatore found distasteful and devilish was the action, famous among LDS audiences if only because it happens so early in a book we start, restart, and false start so many times, of Nephi killing Laban to obtain the brass plates.
The chapter that contains this story features stirring passages of spiritual confidence and testimony (“Let us go up again unto Jerusalem, and let us be faithful in keeping the commandments of the Lord; for behold he is mightier than all the earth, then why not mightier than Laban and his fifty, yea, or even than his tens of thousands?”), scriptures mastered by the youth of the church (“And I was led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which I should do”), and a singular episode of seemingly unethical violence framed as the will of God.
Salvatore, whether by his own intellect or by using discussion on the internet, had struck upon a significant intellectual tension in this narrative. Does God truly command his children to hurt one another? The reaction of most Western thinkers (especially post-1945) is not difficult to anticipate. Absolutely not. Sure, the Old Testament’s genocides seem to set a precedent, but those awful events are contained so far back in the past that it’s much easier to forget and doubt the validity of any divine source. Not to mention, both rabbis and historians have dedicated lifetimes to uncovering the fact that the genocidal “ban,” as it’s called, was rarely, if ever, fully undertaken. As long as the New Testament outshines the Old in its relevance and closer chronology, we don’t have to deal with the slaughter of women, children, and animals among the previous denizens of the Promised Land too often, and when we do, we can ignore those passages and focus on others that teach about obedience or humility.
The Book of Mormon, by nature of its claim to be fresh, undiluted scripture, cannot hide behind the same intellectual acrobatics. Nor does it try to--this story occurs less than 10 pages in. Neither Nephi, Mormon, nor Joseph Smith had any thought of abridging out this episode. They told it in all its gory detail. We cannot think Nephi’s actions away, nor can we justify them as barbarous expectations of the times, because we expect more from the Book of Mormon. We must face this difficult theological question without rhetorical backflips.
Salvatore’s response was telling.
“You know who else talks about God commanding them to kill off their enemies? You know who else says that the result of divine hit squads will make the world a better place and save it from wickedness and unbelief? Osama bin Laden. Ever heard of him, americani?”
His reasoning caught us speechless, but we recovered and tried to stutter forward, trying desperately to disentangle this impossible relation between a man we had cultivated so much hatred for (this took place in 2004) and an ancient prophet of God. And we failed. Salvatore walked away, vindicated in his decision not to join the Church after all, and we never saw him face to face again.
The aftermath was spiritually devastating, and, as has likely been made clear, this experience still pains me to this day. As hundreds of other wonderful people cycled in an out of my life throughout the rest of my mission, the dilemma Salvatore had raised with 1 Nephi 4 stuck with me.
This dilemma and the others I accumulated over 2 years of service, provided a foundation of doubt and anxiety that I carried right up to the time previously related as I designed “progressing investigators” for the missionaries I taught. Companionship after companionship, month after month, a promising investigator named Salvatore (or Rafaele, Monica, Patrizio, etc.) whom the missionaries had committed to setting a baptismal date suddenly broke down and began asking hard questions about 1 Nephi 4 (or the priesthood ban, or polygamy, or Proposition 8) and refusing to accept the typical, unsatisfying answers. The missionaries, slightly deflated that their prepared scriptures failed to address my concern, worked all the harder. They, in a way that made me quite proud of them, came up with every explanation I ever had and more.
- Laban had wronged Nephi and his family so many times that ancient law allowed for violence as a path of resolution in those times.
- “Behold the Lord slayeth the wicked to bring forth his righteous purposes..”
- …”It is better that one man should perish than that a nation should dwindle and perish in unbelief.”
- This nation referred to Nephi’s family.
- This nation referred to those remaining in Jerusalem. Laban was a powerful wicked influence, and the Lord hadn’t given up hope that he could stop the imminent destruction of Jerusalem.
To their sincere explanations, I responded with counterpoints.
- Don’t we expect better of Nephi than to follow ancient practices of revenge? And if we can’t expect better of Nephi, shouldn’t we expect better of the Holy Ghost, whispering over his shoulder and both constraining and goading him to kill another one of God’s children?
- That’s right. The Lord can slay the wicked. He can bring a wicked army, he can strike someone down with a bat of the eye. Why get blood on Nephi’s hands?
- That might very well be true. But Laban was passed out drunk. Why did Nephi have to decapitate him in order to steal his clothing? Wouldn’t a good hit to the head for good measure do it? And wouldn’t clothes without blood stains make a better spectacle for the credulous Zoram later in the chapter?
- And if Laban really did need to die because of his obstruction of the gospel in Jerusalem, see #2.
What’s more, the missionaries rarely succeeded in seeing the central tension. Often, frustrated with the lack of answers, I would mimic and caricature Salvatore’s words. “You’re no better than jihadists. I would expect better of you Americans and the way you mourned the tragedy of September 11. So you would submit if God told me right now that it was his will that I kill you?”
They answered no.
I answered I wasn’t interested in joining the Church any longer and politely asked them to leave. I wasn’t interested in a return appointment.
The missionaries despaired.
I moved into damage-control mode, told them they could try again tomorrow, and taught them that in these cases where we didn’t know the real answer, to humbly ask to move on, to challenge the investigator to continue reading the Book of Mormon with this concern and ultimately ask God in prayer if the Book of Mormon, even if it contained some imperfection, was true.
The missionaries thanked me for this important lesson in humility.
I continued to despair.
To be continued next week.
To be continued next week.
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