Episode 11: Sherem and "Righteous Bad Guys" (Jacob 7)

I hope no one minds if we revisit the Great and Spacious Building in this post.  In fact, it should be pointed out: we'll be revisiting the vision of the Tree of Life throughout the rest of S.T.O.M.P.  When I mentioned a couple of posts back that the groundwork for the duality discussed throughout the whole Book of Mormon is laid in the Tree of Life vision, I really meant the whole Book of Mormon.  This view of mine is rooted in two things: to whom the vision was given, and when they received it.

So, if you'll indulge a quick list...

There are several reasons, I believe, why both Lehi and Nephi had the vision of the Tree of Life: they were forefathers of the Nephite and Lamanite peoples (so I assume their posterity had access to at least some parts of the vision for guidance, warning and instruction); their experiences with the vision are near the beginning of their journey so that we, today (for whom the book was written) get the account of the vision near the outset of the record (like "foreshadowing"); and the vision is presented in layers: Lehi's account, as it's recorded by Nephi, sticks very closely to the basic symbolism, whereas Nephi's account has symbolism and the events being symbolized, plus we get a "bonus" interpretation when Nephi comes down out of the mount and expounds on the vision even more to his brothers.  Thus, from the "layered" presentation of the vision, we are able to see in it personal application, communal/cultural/ global application, and we can also see it as "straight up" prophecy.

To illustrate, I'll use today's STOMP reading: an occasion arises in Jacob chapter 7 where we can use both cultural and personal application of the Tree of Life vision (and even a little bit of prophecy).

Okay, picture this: a guy name Sherem comes riding into town on a horse with no name...

Okay, okay, I couldn't help myself.  I don't know why "Spaghetti Westerns" come to mind when I think of Sherem (or even the one-hit-wonder band, "America"), but they do.  I think it's the way Jacob describes Sherem's appearance in the Nephite record: "[T]here came a man among the people of Nephi..."  For some reason I picture a dusty Nephite town; Sheriff Jacob sees this stranger riding in

Sheriff Jacob

with a six-shooter at his hip loaded with false doctrine; he strides out onto the middle of the road directly in front of the stranger, ready to mete out justice with all the diplomacy of a three-legged badger (I've always assumed a three-legged badger would be much grumpier than a four-legged one).


But fine, I'll stick to the script--no more cowboy stuff.

Hugh Nibley says that the name "Sherem" means "snub nosed or pug nosed" (in Book of Mormon Lecture 26).  This definition may draw quizzical or even comical mental images of the guy (I hear "pug" and I think of the dog), but I believe it's a very fitting name.  To me, in addition to the literal, physical imagery, the epithet "snub nosed" also conjures up the character profile of someone who is arrogant, or a "know-it-all."  And that describes what I think was Sherem's big problem (and lest any of you sit back in the cool and detached comfort of the ol' "I-don't-have-that-problem-barcalounger", I will be connecting Sherem's shortcomings with myself and [I'm assuming] the rest of

This is the "I-don't-have-that-problem-barcalounger."  It's
fun to sit in, but you don't really get anywhere while sitting
in it...

us as well; when Nephi said he likened the scriptures to his people so that they could be edified and instructed, he didn't just liken the "warm and fuzzy" righteous stuff, but also the "Get Your Act Together!" stuff, too).

What's important to note here is that this first of many "anti-Christs" mentioned in the Book of Mormon was not an atheist, but rather a very pious advocate for the Law of Moses.  Indeed, somehow, some way, someone from the Old World brought with them the philosophies of the people at Jerusalem: the idea that by simply "going through the motions" (I think I talked about that in "Episode 2" of this blog) would be enough to save them.  You remember how Jeremiah--a contemporary of Lehi--told the Jews, "You guys say, 'The temple of the Lord!  The temple of the Lord!  The temple of the Lord!' But that's not enough.  Having the temple and going through the motions are not enough: you have to live this stuff in order to be saved!" (I paraphrased, of course; see Jeremiah 7:4 for the original).  And we see this same philosophy slither its way into the showboating religiosity of wicked King Noah's equally wicked priests.  They used their status as clergy and the stage of ritual as a foil to get away with a depraved lifestyle--a lifestyle that was "depraved" not only because of "partying," but also because they eschewed the poor and contributed to envy, greed and materialism within their culture.


So, getting back to Sherem: I believe we shouldn't read the story as, "the prophet Jacob vs. an outsider named Sherem"; rather, we should see it as, "the prophet Jacob vs. a [self-]righteous church member named Sherem."

Sherem tells Jacob he's been seeking an opportunity to have this little duel of words because, he says, "I have heard and also know that thou goest about much, preaching that which ye call the gospel, or the doctrine of Christ."

Therein lies Mistake #1: Sherem didn't seek the prophet to learn the word of God.  He sought the prophet so that he, Sherem, might counsel the prophet.  Sherem was not a man to seek instruction, but rather to give his own instruction.  Do we do the same at church, when we look at some other members?  Do we look at them and think only of how they are doing things wrong, and how we need to "set them straight," rather than seeing in them an opportunity to learn?


Then, Sherem goes on to say, "And ye have led away much of this people that they pervert the right way of God, and keep not the law of Moses which is the right way; and convert the law of Moses into the worship of a being which ye say shall come many hundred years hence."

Mistake #2: Sherem sees salvation in the commandments of God, rather than the commandments being something that can lead him to where the true source of salvation comes from: Jesus Christ.  No man can be saved according to his deeds alone, "For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God" (Rom. 3:23).


This is where the Great and Spacious Building comes in.  We are told in Nephi's account that it represents the "pride of the world."  However, when Nephi is shown the building, he sees its downfall in conjunction with the future downfall of his own progeny: the Nephite nation.  He also sees the building's downfall in conjunction with the rejection of the Messiah by the Jews.  The "pride of the world" doesn't refer to who we, in the church, might term as "non-believers"; the "pride of the world," rather, refers to anyone guilty of that pride which says, "I don't need Christ." That's the worst pride of all. And even Christians (including Mormons) have that kind of pride.

Many Jews rejected Christ because they saw for themselves a path to salvation through the Law of Moses.  Because they felt the Law was what saved them, they felt no need for a Savior.  And because the Law is full of things that are physical, temporal, "earthly": their concept of the Messiah was an earthly one--someone who would save them from their physical bondage; someone who would establish a physical kingdom on the earth.

The Nephites likewise began to believe in themselves more than their God.  Within a handful of generations after being visited by the resurrected Christ, the Nephites began to divide into socio-economic classes, political and ideological sects--all the signs of people succumbing to their own self-importance.  Their gaze became less heavenward and more earthbound.

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten
Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but
have everlasting life" (John 3:16)

Thus, in the church today, it is dangerous to teach a gospel only of commandments and consequences (of "works" without "grace").  The commandments can act as guidelines and safeguards, true; but by no means is a man saved by obedience alone (or, as Christ put it, "Man shall not live by bread alone [i.e. the physical stuff, such as the many outward things that convey an image of righteousness], but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God" [or, the spiritual stuff, which is really the essence of a man]).  When the Savior was asked which was the greatest of all God's commandments, he didn't say "obedience." Slaves and servants can be very obedient and yet hate their masters.  No, Christ said, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God."  It was love that motivated Christ's atonement for the sins of all mankind--not just "duty."

"Greater love hath no man than this, that
a man lay down his life for his friends"
(John 15:13)

So this now broadens the scope of who it is occupying the Great and Spacious Building.  Those who wrap themselves in a warm blanket of self-righteousness are fooling themselves into thinking that it is that very "righteousness" which saves them--they forget about Christ and about the need for his atonement.  This is why sometimes we see those whom we would term as the "super righteous" completely turn away from the gospel.  If they have convinced themselves that it is their obedience that will save them, then why should they bother praying to God in the name of a Savior they don't need, or reading the words of prophets whose lessons don't apply to them?  Thus, they put less effort into growing their faith, which withers until it dies completely.  At that point, they feel nothing when they attend church or even during the few, scattered times they may read the scriptures.  It is then that they decide "all that church stuff" was a hoax to begin with--because faith requires humility, and you can't have faith if you think you've got all the answers.

We see this sort of thing happen (though in a slightly different way) with some of our full-time missionaries.  A young man may think, "I've never broken the Law of Chastity or the Word of Wisdom: therefore, I'm worthy to serve a mission."  But isn't being a missionary more about who a young man is, rather than what he hasn't done?  Can this young man tell others about the Book of Mormon if he's never read it?  Can this young man testify of another's need to accept Christ if he hasn't truly done so himself?  Can this young man expect new converts to sacrifice their old dogmas and habits if he himself has not yet sacrificed his own pride?

I didn't go on my mission until I was almost twenty-one years old.  This is despite cultural pressures within the church (many of which I acknowledge are unintentional and often self-induced) that young men should leave the second they turn the minimum age for full-time missionary service (sometimes we mistake "minimum age" as being synonymous with "time to go right now!").  However, embarking on my mission almost two years after the age at which most young men leave was due to nothing less than a whole lot of stupidity on my part.  I was prideful to the point that I slackened in my efforts to cultivate my faith in recent years; this led to small sins, followed by larger ones, followed by much larger ones until I was literally at the point where I thought I was beyond help (you can see how I misunderstood the Atonement: I was so wrapped up in my guilt for breaking God's commandments that I had forgotten the infinite power of Christ's atonement).  When I met with my bishop at the time, and he told me that I could still turn things around--that I could still go on a mission if I really got my act together--then it was like a switch had been flipped inside of me.  I realized two things: that there was yet hope in what I saw as a hopeless situation, and, because I had almost not been able to go, it became painfully apparent that a mission was a privilege that could be revoked.

There's that old saying about never really appreciating something until you lose it.  When I almost lost the opportunity to serve a mission (which, by that point I had finally realized it really was an "opportunity" and not a "right")--then I was suddenly willing to sacrifice everything to make it happen.  Like the Lamanite king in Alma 22:18, I was finally willing to "give away all my sins to know [God]."  I would do anything for a mission call (rather than my attitude beforehand which had been a little more cavalier, as if it were merely a routine rite-of-passage available to anyone off the street).

By the time I was in the mission field, I had not only re-read (and this time really studied) the Book of Mormon cover-to-cover, but I had also read and studied much of the other Standard Works, immersing myself in my old seminary scriptures like never before; I also read much of the so-called "mission library" (non-canon books that every missionary is encouraged to read while serving in the mission field): James E. Talmage's books, Jesus the Christ and The Great Apostasy, as well as A Marvelous Work and a Wonder; I even read that painful-yet-beautiful book, The Miracle of Forgiveness; I had established a strict routine of constantly pouring my heart out to God, praying throughout the day while I was at work and trying to engage in thoughtful prayer each morning and night as I sought to consecrate my day to the Lord and then report back to Him on how well I had done, what I had learned, and, of course, seeking forgiveness; I received and diligently studied my patriarchal blessing, began writing [more] regularly in my journal (though that's still something I'm a little sporadic at) --essentially, I was doing everything I could think of that would create for me the lifestyle of a full-time missionary before I had even officially been called as one.

Now, being as how this is a post on "pride" and "self-righteousness," I pray that none of this comes across as "prideful" or "boastful."  What I am trying to convey is that through that difficult, painful-yet-beautiful process of repentance, I had truly become converted.  I hit the ground running when I entered the mission field and I had a vision of my purpose out there that some of the other missionaries--from my perspective --had not yet received.

But if only I could have learned such a lesson without gaining alongside it the regret that comes with sin!

The Apostle Paul said of his weaknesses: "Most
gladly therefore will I rather glory in my in-
firmities , that the power of Christ may rest up-
on me" (2Cor. 12:9).  If we allow the Lord to
sculpt us--if we learn from our mistakes--then
will He "make weak things become strong"
(Ether 12:27)

I guess that last sentence is moot, though.  Experience--good and bad--is part of this life.  I know my sins are forgiven, and we are promised that the Lord will remember them no more if we sincerely repent: if He can move past them, so can I.  But also, my past and my regrets are all a part of the package that is "me."  Like I've said before, I can't speculate on who I would be without my mistakes--I am who I am today because of what I have learned from my mistakes; but such speculation doesn't matter because I know I am in a good place, spiritually, now.  And of course, I am sooooo very far from perfect, but I can say that where I'm at today in comparison to where I was then: "[T]here could be nothing so exquisite and so bitter as were my pains.  Yea, and again I say unto you...that on the other hand, there can be nothing so exquisite and sweet as [is] my joy" (Al. 36:21).  I've partaken of God's love and finally accepted the Atonement: I no longer think that righteousness has anything to do with me; but rather, I finally stepped aside, got out of the way, and let the Master take over--I submitted my will to His.

That's why Elder Bednar's talk from a couple conferences ago ("Converted unto the Lord") was so powerful: we need converts in this church--not members.  ("Membership" is for places like Costco...)

This is the very thing that I kick myself about all the time, though.  When I know I've goofed up and I need to repent, you can be sure I'm praying like crazy and reading the scriptures and trying to reconnect with Heavenly Father.  Too often I'm creating the sort of relationship with God I should be having all the time when I'm desperately trying to say, "I'm sorry."  Maybe I wouldn't have to say "I'm sorry" so much if I would put that sort of energy into our relationship outside of repenting.

Nevertheless, I feel that, because I know that about myself, and because it has been made known to me that the behavior I exhibit during contrition is a pattern for me to follow at all times in life, I am at least headed in the right direction.  But none of this is anything I have learned on my own, with my own efforts.  My weaknesses have always been made known to me after a ton of prayer.  Generally speaking, the pattern is: I feel that something is wrong but am too much of a blockhead to realize what it is; so I pray and I pray and I pray and I pray; Heavenly Father shows me my weaknesses; I'm given time to ponder over them and pray some more for further guidance; then I'm shown what I can do to change and grow from my mistakes; then I pray for help to do it--because I know I'm too weak to do it on my own, and, just like Nephi, I know that the Lord will "prepare a way for [me] that [I] may accomplish the thing which he commandeth [me]."

And that's why the people in the Great and Spacious Building are pointing their fingers and mocking those who are partaking of the fruit.  Those tenants don't think they need that fruit: they don't think they need Christ's atonement.  And they are not "non-believers" (not exclusively, anyway): no, they are you and me every time we've fooled ourselves into thinking we can do any of this on our own; you and I occupy that building when we think we're more righteous than someone else because we do our home teaching more frequently, or we've read the Book of Mormon more times, or we have a greater intellectual grasp on the doctrines of salvation (and you can watch a great video about Brigham Young's conversion called "A Man Without Eloquence" that reinforces that last point).

I'll close my post with King Benjamin's approach to this same subject:

King Benjamin opened his address with a prophecy of the Savior's earthly ministry and subsequent atonement.  He makes it painfully clear that the Law of Moses was not given to the people because of righteousness, but rather, "the Lord God saw that his people were a stiffnecked people, and he appointed unto them a law, even the law of Moses."  Thus, the Law of Moses was nothing to boast of; King Benjamin reminds them of the Fall of Adam and ties this in to the need for a redemption from that Fall.  He points out, however, that in order to receive this redemption, we all must humble ourselves and "become as little children... For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit."  Notice that word "yields" right there: it's a passive term.  Men do not obtain the Holy Spirit; when we are confirmed members of the church and we are given the gift of the Holy Ghost, we are not told in the blessing, "I say unto you, grab the Holy Ghost"!  No, we are instead commanded: "I say unto you, receive the Holy Ghost."

Once the people listening to King Benjamin's words realized their true need for a savior, it says that "they had fallen to the earth, for the fear of the Lord had come upon them.  And they had viewed themselves in their own carnal state, even less than the dust of the earth."

This is just like when Adam and Eve saw they were naked: at last, recognition for the need for a Savior became perfectly clear.  And so, what King Benjamin's people did is a pattern for us as well: "And they all cried aloud with one voice, saying: O have mercy, and apply the atoning blood of Christ that we may receive forgiveness of our sins, and our hearts may be purified; for we believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God." Here would be an event comparable to when the Lord placed coats of skin on Adam and Eve: "apply the atoning blood of Christ" and "for we believe in Jesus Christ" are the very events symbolized by the coats of skin given to Adam and Eve.  These are ideas to be worn close to our hearts at all times and on all days--there is never a time when we do not need to be clothed in Christ's atonement.

And when King Benjamin realized his people had become sufficiently humble (the ground was tilled and fertile, ready for the seed to be planted), he continued: "I say unto you...that as ye have come to the knowledge of the glory of God, or if ye have tasted of his goodness (or tasted the fruit of the Tree of Life), or if ye have known of his goodness and have tasted of his love (again, the fruit of the Tree of Life), ... even so I would that ye should remember, and always retain in remembrance, the greatness of God, and your own nothingness (in other words, don't get cocky), and his goodness and long-suffering towards you, unworthy creatures, and humble yourselves..., calling on the name of the Lord daily, and standing steadfastly in the faith."  This is exactly why we are told in the sacrament prayer every week to remember ("...that they may do it in remembrance of thee..."), because otherwise, we do not have the promise that is given in that very same prayer: "[T]hat they may always have Thy Spirit to be with them."  And King Benjamin likewise asserts this when he says that those who remember God's goodness and their own poopiness (yes, I just said "poopiness"), "shall always rejoice, and be filled with the love of God (which reminds us of those who were likewise "filled" when they partook of the sacrament at Christ's coming in 3 Nephi 18) and always retain a remission of [their] sins"--or, in other words, they will "always have His Spirit to be with them."

This is why the prophet Alma encouraged his son, Helaman, to:

"Counsel with the Lord in all thy doings, and he will direct thee for good; yea, when thou liest down at night lie down unto the Lord, that he may watch over you in your sleep; and when thou risest in the morning let thy heart be full of thanks unto God; and if ye do these things, ye shall be lifted up at the last day" (Al. 37:37).

Or, in other words (again), Alma was saying that if Helaman did all these thing--things that would help him to "remember" and to rely on God--he would "always retain a remission of [his] sins": he would "always have [God's] Spirit to be with [him]" (which are both essential components to being "lifted up at the last day").


Okay, I've blathered on long enough.  It's amazing this much stuff can come out of simply reading a few verses about Sherem trying to convince Jacob that the Law of Moses is more important than the doctrine of the gospel of Christ.  I could've kept going, too--I really could have!  Isn't it amazing how much there really is in every little word in this book of scripture?  The Book of Mormon is the Word of God--if we hold onto its teachings, pressing forward through its pages with steadfastness, it truly draws us closer to Christ.  And we can dive into its teachings as deep as we want, as long as we are willing to sacrifice the time and our own preconceptions (or arrogance).  Just get out of your own way and let the Spirit do the teaching: it's His job--and He's a lot better at it than you or I.