The question about divine impartiality is an excellent problem. I’ll confess I don’t buy in the least divine impartiality. It seems built too much out of a kind of Rawlsian veil of ignorance. However if we buy the Mormon gesture towards theodicy then it seems to me this life is a developmental test. In such a case the last thing we should want is a kind of impartiality tied to an “as if” ignorance. Rather we should want a kind of divine partiality that pays attention to our particular developmental needs.

There was a fantastic talk by Elder Ashton from the 90’s that I now can not seem to find that went along these lines. The implication of this is that of course we can’t tell who actually is cursed or blessed because we don’t know what battles the individual spirit is engaged in. A spirit trapped in a body with a psychotic mind tending towards being a serial killer may have accomplished a great deal more than a spirit in a body in a upper middle class Mormon home who never really did anything particular bad but never really did anything particularly good in terms of going beyond the norm. Effectively we can’t judge anyone because we don’t know their tests nor their battles. (Admittedly this is all a slightly Heideggerian twist on Ashton and the Mormon theodicy – but I think it works)

In this case in terms of judging God we have no clue what was going on with Nephi, Laman, and Lemuel. In terms of judging good or bad for their spirits we must remain silent. In terms of judging the actions somewhat independent of intent of course we can judge away. I think though we have to recognize these are two different kinds of judgments.

Clark, to be brief and candid, I’m saying that your interpretation is indeed an interpretation (though certainly a plausible one). While that’s the Sunday School answer we’ve always heard, the text on its own really is quite confusing. I think it just as plausible and natural to read the text as referring to the chosen nature of Able/Israel — impartiality amongst the Gods wasn’t a high priority then like it is now (but of course, that also requires an interpretive take).

Nephi explicitly likens himself and his brothers to Moses here. Overall, perhaps Lehi is meant to come off as Moses — but here he’s trying to inspire his brothers with the analogy.

Terry, I like the idea of Nephi having covenanted. In general, I like covenants as a religious response to our finitude.

As for the covenant idea, it came to me while reading Kinship by Covenant, Scott W. Hahn (AYBRL, 2009) and Marriage as Covenant, Gordon Huegenberger, (Wipf & Stock, 2014 ed. [orig. 1994]). Far more than a commitment and the covenant is with God. Nephi makes a covenant with God to bring the plates back to his father. Causes me to review my own covenant-making and covenant-keeping. Quite sobering actually.

Your point about covenant is a really good one I’d not really emphasized in my thinking before. I need to think through this. Is it that Nephi made an unique covenant or simply that he is living up to a covenant they all made? It’s true Nephi makes the commitment to his father, but I assume that’s not what you’re referring to as covenant making. To me it’s the question of being faithful in the Hebrew linguistic sense of faithful. (To the extent that I, a non Hebrew speaker, dare say something like that)

Clark. I’d like the 116 pages too, perhaps Don Bradley will shed light on that in his project. However, if I ever saw the Gold Plates themselves, the number one thing I’d want to see is the word that Joseph translated as Christ.

Now perhaps it’s a composite text. (I don’t recall all the things written about it and I get a little more skeptical about authorship arguments in the particulars even if I buy the idea in the big picture) If so maybe there’s two things going on. A narrative about sacrifice and a narrative about a kind of archetype of murder/selfishness. We don’t know what the text was like for Nephi of course.

I do think you bring up a good point about whose idea the treasure was. However my point was more about the implementation which seems more Laman and Lemuel (although I might be wrong in that)

Regarding the competing narratives, I think that Nephi sees Lehi, not himself, as Moses. It might also reflect a conflict between the initial views when they first left Jerusalem and when the reality sets in when they arrive in America. I wish we had the lost 116 pages to compare 1 Nephi with.

1. Regardless of how we got the two Egypt narratives, by Nephi’s time both were likely available and together (although I know some DH theorists put the conjunction/editing as post-exile). As Clark notes, we get an ambiguous parallels here because Nephi himself is ambiguous. It’s clearly a Joseph of Egypt structural narrative, but ends with explicit references to Moses. I think we’ve got two choices in how to read this. We could read this as an unsophisticated Nephi — he really likes both stories and ignores or perhaps doesn’t even see the inconsistencies. Or we could read it as a sophisticated Nephi, one who sees an unavoidable ambiguity and an unreconcilable situation: God’s asking us to forsake God in order to obtain God; we have to leave the promised land in order to obtain the promised land; I’m Joseph, cast off by my brothers but ultimately this fact allows me to become their teacher and ruler; in addition to being a young arrogant Joseph, I was chosen to usher in deliverance like the old Moses. I’m favoring the latter interpretation. What’s more, I think this is a generalizable situation that we all face or will face. I think it’s the structure of an Abrahamic trial.

2. I really like both of the readings you two give to Laman & Lemuel. Both are plausible and theologically rich and are what one typically encounters in a devotional context. Given what’s written, however, the sophisticated Cain/Able interpretation is anything but self-evident. It requires making a great deal out of a careful linguistic distinction, importing a whole backdrop. We have to do this to make the scriptures breathe in any form, so I don’t mean to criticize that fact. But again, simply taking what’s written we’re not offered justification and there are several plausible alternatives. What we’re actually offered is partiality and mixed messages. Perhaps a deeper message then is that how we choose to make the partial, problematic messages from heaven work — how we choose to interpret and apply them — is a critical matter of both agency and faith.

3. With regard to revelation/scriptural understanding being a matter of not merely asking (Terry, I can’t help but think of Oliver Cowdery here) and not being able to buy the divine truths of the scriptures (can’t help but think of the temple drama), but instead being a matter of making a leap of faith: Following up on this idea, it’s interesting that Nephi registers no protest to merely asking, and it’s his idea to buy the scriptures. So at best we have a confused, ignorant Nephi who learns through a process of failure (or at least, we the reader learn; I’m not sure Nephi is self-effacing enough in the narrative to attribute this interpretation to his careful crafting). At this point we have both another reason to cut Laman and Lemuel some slack — it’s not clear that they did any worse here than Nephi (outside of their violence). But it does look like they missed the opportunity to learn and grow at the rate Nephi did.

J Town: I’m certainly not in disagreement with your ultimate conclusion (in #7). I just think you’re missing a great deal of the lessons to learn along the way by merely accepting the narrative exactly as Nephi dictates it; and even worse, applying a rigid/black-and-white structure to the world today. The counter-evidence and weakness of Nephi is clearly on display, despite his best efforts (as are, so I argue here, certain admirable aspects of Laman and Lemuel). Moroni surely alludes to this sort of thing in Mormon 9. But I think we’ve got a much bigger danger than sympathizing with Laman and Lemuel, and that’s failing to love and understand and work with those who we can’t help but see as being like Laman and Lemeul in our own life. And if we can’t learn to feast with publicans, harlots, and sinners, we’ll certainly not stand as saviors on Mount Zion — and perhaps not be able to stand on the Mount at all.

I think it’s absolutely important to consider Laman and Lemuel’s place in the narrative, because indeed most of us are probably closer to Laman and Lemuel (well, hopefully other than the intended murder parts…) than we are to Nephi. However, there is a difference between attempting to understand them and sympathizing with them too much (I’m not saying that you are, just stating it in general).

If we liken the scriptures unto ourselves, it’s partially to emulate good behavior (such as Nephi’s, even though he clearly was not perfect) but also to understand how to avoid poor behavior (such as much, though not all, of the behavior we see from Laman and Lemuel.) Nephi wasn’t perfect and Laman/Lemuel weren’t mustache-twirling villains all the time either, but in the end, Nephi did his best to follow the Lord and Laman/Lemuel, despite some attempts to do so, did not.

Your comment on the competence of Laman and Lemuel. On another level, you can look at it that the Brass Plates = Word of God. (1) You can’t simply get the Word of god by merely asking (even Moroni describes the process as “real intent” and Alma says we have to “exercise faith”–sounds like effort to me. (2) You can’t get the Word of God by merely buying it. (3) You often get it once you go forward “not knowing beforehand” what you should do. Kind of a way to view this story.

PS. I really enjoy these posts. Not sure how much we’re going along with what James is saying, but I’m sure benefitting a lot. Thanks James (& all).