My approach to the Book of Mormon is, I think, fairly idiosyncratic, and rather unorthodox. At least I haven’t seen this perspective articulated before.

I am not interested in the question of whether or not the Book is “true.” I don’t consider myself sufficiently expert in ancient texts, or genetics, or the Middle East in the 7th century BC or in any of the other arenas where apologists and debunkers do battle to have an informed opinion. The relevant question to me is not ‘is the Book of Mormon true?’ It is ‘is the Book of Mormon scripture?’ And the answer, for me, is yes.

When I say I don’t know if the Book of Mormon is true, that doesn’t mean I think it’s untrue. It just seems to me a baffling question. One might say that the Book of Mormon cannot be scripture if it’s not true. I can’t really address that, though, because the statement ‘the Book of Mormon is true’ is one I genuinely do not understand. I’ve heard that phrase my entire life, and I finally had to conclude that I’ve never understood it. But it is scripture; uniquely valuable and important.

Sometimes when I read the Book of Mormon, it feels to me like a nineteenth century text; sometimes, it feels genuinely ancient. I’m not qualified to judge either way. Nor do I care to. I read it, I study it, I admit it to my prayer life, I intend to continue doing all those things. To me, the Book of Mormon is a work of scripture, whenever or whoever actually wrote it. I define ‘scripture’ as any written work that significantly and meaningfully explores issues and ideas relating to the relationship between humanity and Deity. I do not read our Mormon scripture to increase my testimony, or looking for inspirational proof-texts. I read it to gain insight into how God wants me to act, what He wants me to do. I want to engage with scripture, wrestle with it, disagree, at times, with it. It also doesn’t matter to me if two different works of scripture contradict each other; I expect them to. Different times, different places, different authors, different intentions.

To illustrate what I mean, look at the Book of Joshua. Joshua describes a military campaign that can only be described as ethnic cleansing, a genocidal series of conquests which Joshua, in the text, genuinely seems to believe he has been commanded, by God, to carry out. I don’t know enough about Old Testament scholarship to know whether or not any of that actually happened; I strongly suspect that it did not, and that Joshua is a work of fiction, as Jesus’ parables are works of fiction, or the Book of Job probably is. But I don’t care: Joshua is spectacular scripture, precisely because it so challenges my beliefs about God’s universal love for all His children. To me, Joshua takes the idea that God might have a Chosen People to its most extreme logical conclusion. If God genuinely has a favored people, then less-favored people deserve less divine consideration. The result might well be divinely-sanctioned genocide. Joshua is horrifying, because its depiction of the resulting consequences of that mainstream idea is so graphic and so brutal. I can really only conclude that the idea of God having a chosen people is contrary to this scripture’s sense of God’s will. There are many many scriptures where the idea of God having a chosen people is articulated. Joshua provides a counter text, an argument. Do those scriptures contradict Joshua? Certainly, and productively. It makes me think; it expands my understanding. I believe that by using a deliberately extreme example, Joshua teaches the opposite of the message implied by a straightforward reading of the text.

I love the Book of Mormon, really genuinely love it. I love the Book of Mormon because it’s so bracingly, spectacularly progressive. I know what some of you are thinking: racially progressive? Yes, I think so. Problematic terms like ‘white and delightsome’ deconstruct themselves; I would suggest, in the Book itself. My close reading convinces me that ‘Nephite’ and ‘Lamanite’ are purely social constructions, that racial differences between them are little more than war-time propaganda, perpetuated by both sides.

I also believe that the Book of Mormon was written for our day. I believe that, of course, because I read it now, in the early years of the 21st century CE, and can’t read it any other way. If, when I say that, you want to dismiss me as an apologist, you’re more than welcome to. But I will take it a step further. I believe that my progressive reading of the Book of Mormon is a necessary one, and one that might help both the Book and the Church itself carve out a space in the years to come. The Book of Mormon is a book describing a destructively violent society, and one in which a handful of genuine progressives face destruction at the hands of brutal reactionaries. It’s a book in which an other-directed people are destroyed by a self-and-wealth-worshipping society. It describes a people that lose their humanity to violence, a formerly democratic society turned as lethal and toxic as Hitler’s Germany or Pol Pot’s Cambodia. It also prescribes a solution, found in selfless Christian service. In fact, I was reading in Alma 17 this morning, and reading about the sons of Mosiah, who gave up privileged lives to work as missionaries to their cultures’ traditional enemies. It’s not a great parallel, but I couldn’t help but think of those amazing kids from Parkland Florida, preaching their truth to power. Victims of violence, preaching peace.

All of this is by way of introduction. This is part one of a multi-part series about the Book of Mormon character Korihor, who appears in just one chapter, Alma Chapter 30. A self-styled reformer, whose campaign was exceedingly short-lived, and ended in disgrace and poverty and failure. And yet, his ideas built on those of earlier thinkers, and became astonishingly influential in years after he died, leading eventually to the complete destruction of the societies described in the Book of Mormon. And I see echoes and resonances of his ideas throughout our society and our day. I think they’ll destroy us too, if they’re not confronted, exposed, and combated.

I think the Book of Mormon was written for our day. I believe it is holy scripture, as much scripture as Paul to the Romans, the Gospel of Luke, or Dr. King’s Letter from Birmingham Jail, which functions as scripture for many Americans today. And, frankly, Korihor scares me to death.