Let’s start with privilege.

Although class distinctions and issues of privilege are raised repeatedly in the Book of Mormon, privilege can also be a little tricky to track. The Book of Mormon begins with privilege. “I, Nephi, having been born of goodly parents.” That phrase, the first verse of First Nephi, establishes young Nephi as wealthy, a rich kid from a rich family. That’s what ‘goodly’ implies. He was ‘taught in the learning of his father’ because his Dad could afford to educate him. But, unlike his brothers, Laman and Lemuel, he doesn’t turn out to be a spoiled brat. He can choose, and he chooses obedience and righteousness. Specifically, he chooses to give up all his wealth, and settle instead for a copy of the Torah and the Prophets, and exile into the wilderness. He genuinely believes his father’s warnings and visions. His emphasis is on doing what God wants him to do. And his choice is subsequently echoed throughout the Book of Mormon.

Essentially the books of Mosiah through Helaman tell the story of the Nephite civilization through the lens of two dynastic families; the priestly Alma line (Alma, Alma, Helaman, Helaman, Nephi, Nephi) and the ruling Mosiah line (Mosiah, Benjamin, Mosiah). The three main offices described are high priest–head of the Church–and king, which becomes eventually, chief judge–the highest executive office in Nephite government, with, as the name implies, judicial responsibilities. But the Nephites mingled religion and government pretty freely. Mosiah’s sons become important missionaries, Alma becomes chief judge–they go back and forth between public service vectors.

The Book of Mormon provides the names of twelve chief judges, but we know more about some of them than others. It’s also not clear how long their terms in office were–some served for up to thirty years, while others only for what appear to be a matter of months. It also became rather a dangerous job; six of the twelve whose names we know were assassinated. In any event, much of the Book of Mormon reads rather like a dynastic history. In fact, when Jesus makes his appearance, he calls ’em on it, points out that they left out the mission and message of Samuel the Lamanite. (Of course, they fix it). We’re primarily interested in the lives and contributions of Alma, Alma, Helaman, Helaman, Nephi and Nephi. They’re also the ones, we’re told, keeping and preserving the records from which the Book of Mormon was compiled and edited. The Book of Mormon could be seen as a history of privilege, or at least of a particular line of men–always men, by the way; we’re told very little about women. This kind of history is out of fashion nowadays–our focus today is on previously marginalized figures, and their contributions. So, no, it’s not a ‘History of the Nephites’ per se. It’s a specialized, old-fashioned kind of history, and may not be immune from hagiography. We’re interested in these guys. These few important guys.

But again, not really. The point of the Book of Mormon is not to valorize a few specific individuals, or advance a ‘great man’ historical narrative. It’s to promote a specific world view. It’s not what this group of men accomplished or what offices they held. It’s about what they believed, taught and practiced.

Because both lines, priestly and judicial, were commited to the same radical Christian agenda, anti-poverty, quasi-socialistic, peace-loving (amidst pretty much constant war) and socially leveling. We see two ideologies in play. On the one hand, the Korihor-ish doctrine of radical libertarianism, couched in terms of ‘personal liberty,’ laissez-faire and valorizing acquisition, is contrasted with the Benjamin-line side, rejecting even property ownership as a principle (See Mosiah 4: 16-30), and preaching equality and tolerance. Which is why I call it a progressive narrative.

I might compare the Alma line to that of the American Adams family. From John Adams to John Quincy Adams to Charles Francis Adams to Henry Adams and continuing, the Adams sons all demonstrated a commitment to public service and civic engagement, including support for public improvements and opposition to institutional slavery. Two US Presidents are included, in addition to ambassadors, authors, public intellectuals and political figures of outstanding capacity and merit. (Granted, there were also a few anti-Semites in the mix–it’s not a perfect parallel.)

These Nephite priests (and judges) warred pretty consistently with privilege, though arguably privileged themselves. And it doesn’t read as noblesse oblige.  Their enemies begin with the courtiers surrounding wicked King Noah, and continue with a Nephite political party known as the ‘kingmen.’ In fact, it appears as though the biggest issue the Nephites had to face throughout their history was over issues of income inequality. When Korihor appears, one of his most potent accusations against Alma is elitism. He accuses Alma of using his office in the Church to enrich himself, and of usurpation of power. These charges, Alma hotly denies, and with merit. All of them in the Alma line, though powerful, defined themselves in opposition to wealth. King Benjamin, in his great speech of succession, nearing the end of his reign, says this:

I have been suffered to spend my days in your service, even up to this time, and have not sought gold nor silver nor any manner of riches of you; Neither have I suffered that ye should be confined in dungeons, nor that ye should make slaves one of another . . . And even I, myself, have labored with mine own hands that I might serve you, and that ye should not be laden with taxes, and that there should nothing come upon you which was grievous to be borne—and of all these things which I have spoken, ye yourselves are witnesses this day.

Presumably, this speech had resonance because his listeners knew of kings that did all those things; sought gold and silver and confined people in dungeons and used slave labor. But he hasn’t done any of it, and there’s no reason to think that he’s not telling the truth. This passage could suggest that they didn’t have a system of taxation, but I don’t think that’s what he’s saying. He kept taxes low, didn’t tax them at a level ‘grievous to be borne.’ What we’ll see, though, is that the kingman party wanted all that, gold and silver and slaves and arbitrary imprisonments. The liberty Korihor wants–and the liberty he accuses Alma of denying him and his party–is precisely the liberty to make buckets of money any way they can, no matter who it hurts. In short, Korihor is an American type-acquisitive, callous, ambitious, grasping.

Becoming rich is a bad thing in the Book of Mormon. The entire book describes a cyclical view of history. Righteousness leads to wealth, which leads to pride and people forgetting God, which leads to destruction and poverty, which leads to righteousness and begins the whole thing again. That is the view of history of the Alma-line. That’s what their experience taught them. And although the Book of Mormon is described as a quintessentially American book, it is not an American cycle or story.

Can we admit this? In America, historically, was it really righteousness that led to wealth? Wasn’t it, well, wickedness? Benjamin specifically invokes, with a shudder of horror, slavery. Doesn’t  the American experience demonstrate this specific dynamic: it’s easier to make money if you don’t intend to pay your employees? Wasn’t, to a very large degree, American prosperity built on chattel slavery? Nor was this a regional phenomenon; New Englanders profited by it too, through shipping and international commerce. Didn’t America become an economic powerhouse by raising highly lucrative cash crops–cotton, sugar, tobacco–using slave labor, and by expanding westward onto lands stolen from Native peoples? Isn’t that how we got rich? At least partly? And didn’t we, as a nation, also pay for it, most especially in the period from 1861-65? How did Lincoln put it?

Fondly do we hope, fervently do we pray, that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled by the bondsman’s two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said “the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.

The cycle didn’t end so well for the Nephites either. Because that’s the great tragedy of the Book of Mormon; the Alma line failed. Their great project, a reordering of society in the direction of social justice and equality led to their complete, utter, desolating destruction. That’s not to say that the Alma-line failed. Theirs is a beautiful vision, and it worked well for awhile.  It’s also specifically endorsed by Jesus, in Third Nephi. Eventually, though, Korihor did win. That’s our first lesson.