The Misunderstood Sam Situation

I've started over reading the Book of Mormon again. My usual pattern is to read a chapter a day, and read through it and then start over. In this way, I've read it dozens of times in my life and love its insights and the strength it gives me every day.

The other interesting thing I'm sure most who love scripture have experienced is that in each read-through, I notice something a little different. Something jumps out at me I hadn't caught before. 

This time, it was something Nephi's brother Sam did--or didn't do. He didn't pray. But it's not why you might initially think.

In chapter 2 of 1 Nephi, Lehi teaches his sons. Basically, he's lecturing his two oldest sons, and they're on what they must think is an extended camping trip outside the walls of Jerusalem. The lecture ends, and Laman and Lemuel just complain. 

Nephi, though, realizes he wants to believe his father, so he prays that his heart will be softened. Then, the Holy Ghost tells Nephi that the words Lehi has taught are true. The Lord softens Nephi's heart so he can believe--and not rebel, like Laman and Lemuel did.

It's great to see Nephi's faith. It's also good to note that Nephi, too, had an initial struggle with believing the words of his father, the prophet. In a way, he's like the broken man who comes to Christ and says, "I believe, Lord, help thou mine unbelief."

There are a lot of lessons for me to take from this.

However, the thing that jumped out at me this time is Nephi's conversation with Sam in verse 17. Right after Nephi's spiritual experience, he goes to his confidante, his older brother Sam, and:

17 And I spake unto Sam, making known unto him the things which the Lord had manifested unto me by his Holy Spirit. And it came to pass that he believed in my words.

Sam doesn't require a big, earth-shattering experience in order to believe. He simply hears his younger brother's testimony, and he believes. He doesn't pray to have his heart softened because his heart is already there, ready to receive truth and testimony. (Although, it's not impossible that he'd already had his own spiritual manifestation during his father's teaching and Nephi simply doesn't record it.)

Actually, this happens several times in the Book of Mormon. During their time in the cave when the angel comes, and other times when Nephi needs backup, Sam is Nephi's ally. This grows and grows throughout their lives, and even continues in the Promised Land.

Lehi notes this, and in his final blessing of his sons before his death, he says to Sam in 2 Nephi chapter 4, 

11 And after he had made an end of speaking unto them, he spake unto Sam, saying: Blessed art thou, and thy seed; for thou shalt inherit the land like unto thy brother Nephi. And thy seed shall be numbered with his seed; and thou shalt be even like unto thy brother, and thy seed like unto his seed; and thou shalt be blessed in all thy days.

You hear about Nephites, Lamanites, Lemuelites, Zoramites, Jacobites, and Josephites in certain spots throughout the history that Mormon records, but there's never a mention of Samites. Instead, his posterity is, as Lehi said, numbered with that of the chosen prophet, Nephi. He aligns himself so completely with the prophet, and with God, that (from what I surmise) he refuses personal recognition.

Time and again, I have heard people teaching the Book of Mormon and saying that Sam was the wishy-washy one, or that he was "just there." However, I want to dispel that rumor.

In his defense, I want to point out that he was humble, faithful, and believing. That he had a heart so soft he could simply believe. The tables of his heart were fleshy, not stony, and the Word could easily be written there.

Another thing: he didn't need to be out front. He wanted to be true and obedient, and he must have wanted the same for his posterity enough that he taught them not to bring him up--that they belonged to the prophet, they belonged to God.

I haven't read anything scholarly on this, I'm just saying my own take on the noble and (in my opinion) misunderstood character of Sam. 

Also, there's a good chance the world might be a better place if more of us were more concerned about obedience than recognition.

We Talk of Christ

As I was reading this week, I found this scripture that Nephi wrote. It's found in 2 Ne 25:26.


 26 And we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins.


I have always loved that scripture, but it hit me with force this time. Is this how things are in my home? Am I speaking with enthusiasm and joy about Christ to my children? I know I talk about church, we read scriptures together, we do family home evening lessons on Monday nights, but is Christ often a topic of conversation? Am I rejoicing in Christ so that my children can hear it? I know I will call my mom and dad and tell them about miracles in my life or blessings I know have come from the Savior, but do I tell my children?


If so, is it often enough?


I want all these answers to be a resounding yes.

The Chosen Ones (and How To Be One)

As a writer and a reader, I love the "chosen one" stories as much as the next guy. Harry Potter? The chosen one. Luke Skywalker, Annakin too, chosen. Leven Thumps, chosen. The list goes on.


I think these themes resonate with us because we all secretly wish we were the chosen one, special, set apart, meant for higher things than groveling in the lowlands of oppression.


Over the millennia of recorded history, there has been that same theme, and we find it in the Old Testament. Joseph of Egypt was chosen. So was Moses. Chosen to deliver their people.


But what if they hadn't heeded the call to be chosen? What if they'd ignored it, done nothing, refused to obey the call. Would they still be chosen? Not exactly.


So, am I chosen? Are you? Who is?


I have wondered this from time to time. I think there was some annoyance from the surrounding tribes when the People of Israel showed up saying they were the Chosen People. It might incite animosity--possibly (likely) based on jealousy. Chosen of God. Wow. That's a big claim.


But how does it originate? What about those questions posed above, the ones about those who refuse the call? And if someone is chosen, does that mean they're better/more loved/the favorite child/more important? Does this even mean God could be unfair to some of His children?


I found a scripture that seems to answer that question. It comes from 1 Nephi 17:35 in the Book of Mormon.


 35 Behold, the Lord esteemeth all flesh in one; he that is righteous is favored of God. But behold, this people had rejected every word of God, and they were ripe in iniquity; and the fulness of the wrath of God was upon them; and the Lord did curse the land against them, and bless it unto our fathers; yea, he did curse it against them unto their destruction, and he did bless it unto our fathers unto their obtaining power over it.


Clarity! God loves us all the same. The way to be chosen? It's for US to choose HIM.


That turns the whole concept on its ear for me.


To be chosen, all I need to do is choose His ways, be reliable, be a daughter He can count on to do what He needs done with the capacity He has given me.


What a gracious, fair, praiseworthy God we have.

Sleeping Through The Garden

As I have been preparing my heart for Christmas, I have been reading several different scenes from the life of our Lord. One is the Garden of Gethsemane. I read and reread His heavy experience there, trying to comprehend, even a tiny degree, what sacrifice was made there on my behalf.


The thing that struck me this time reading was how alone the Savior was. After the apostles partook of the Last Supper, Jesus invited just Peter, James and John to go with Him on this difficult trek into the deepest abyss of the soul, a place only a God could go and survive. To take on Him all our sins, weaknesses, infirmities, mistakes, all at once, it's just incomprehensible.


But of his companions He asked one thing: stay awake.


And they couldn't.


We've all been there--so tired we simply cannot keep our eyes open, maybe even despite danger. Like driving late at night after a long day. I remember one time I nearly wrecked my car with all my little children inside. The only thing that saved me was calling my husband and having him talk me home, the last ten minutes of the drive. I needed him. I needed his help to get through.


The Savior, all He asked was to have a few friends there to support Him.


And they could not watch one hour.


It's disheartening.


And yet, isn't it a type of the human condition? How "awake" are we on a regular basis to the sacrifice that has been made by our God for us? What is my alertness level to the massive debt of gratitude and honor and fealty I owe to Him who stood between me and Justice, which gapes wide to claim my eternal soul, unless I repent and cast myself at His feet?


Sadly, I know there are days when most of us, self included, hardly give it a passing thought.


Sleeping through it. That's all I do from time to time.


And what He asks is that I stay awake. Be aware of His divine suffering on my behalf.
I love Him. This Christmas season is helping me to wake up. I hope I can stay awake in days and months and years to come.

Why Bad Things Happen To Good People -- A Bible Answer

Maybe it's only me, but it seems like life goes in waves sometimes. There are peaks and valleys, times of ease and times of trial. Right now in the lives of many people I love and care about, it seems like waves of trial. A loss of a job -- complicated by a dire illness in the family, a child stricken with disease, a wayward loved one making destructive choices, financial crises, marriages in trouble, health struggles, and so on. I have mourned with them, and wondered why these good people are going through so much difficulty.


But that is the age-old question: Why should good people have to suffer bad things?


We've heard it a hundred times. Shouldn't the righteous be blessed and the wicked punished? And yet it doesn't seem to work that way. Sometimes the wicked seem to prosper and the righteous struggle. How could a just God allow that to happen? Those who are following Him, doing their best, still end up with trials--some of them simply huge.


Some people say the scriptures don't address this, and yet, the words of Christ teach us this is going to happen-- and why. Granted, it's in the Gospel of John, and the words in that book are somewhat poetic, and maybe a little harder to grasp the meaning, at least for me, but here's the passage I'm thinking of.


John 15:1-8
1 I am the true vine, and my Father is the husbandman.


The first part means, since these are the words of Christ, He is the "true vine," the thing from which we all grow from and find nourishment in. The second part means the Father is the one in charge of the whole vineyard. He decides how to take care of all the grapevines and then is the one that keeps the fruit at the end. Christ always gives the glory to His Father.


2 Every branch in me that beareth not fruit he taketh away: and every branch that beareth fruit, he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit.


We're the branches on the vine. When we don't bear fruit, the Husbandman takes them away. I think that means the Father doesn't let those people have His Spirit with them.


When, however, we do bear fruit, he "purges" us. The footnote for the word "purgeth" says it comes from a Greek word meaning "try, test, prove."


My husband is a backyard farmer and has been taking good care of our grapevines this year.  We've gone a few years with only tiny, sour grapes--too many bunches of them, all basically inedible. This year, though, he got rid of the fruitless branches so they wouldn't suck up all the soil's nutrients. And he went through and cut back the good branches so we'd get more grapes. We're having a good crop of sweet grapes this year because of his work.


The Lord has to cut us back. He has to purge us, prune us. This scripture says the Husbandman gives us trials, for His purpose, and that He wants the branches to bring forth fruit.


I guess there are ways we, too, can cut back in our lives. We can get rid of the things that are sucking the nutrients we need. Time wasters, friends who keep us from doing what we know we should. (Sometimes friends can be clutter.) Bad habits. That's a tangent, but I could benefit from a pruning I give myself and my time for sure.


There are more verses about this and then verse 8 says this:


8 Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit; so shall ye be my disciples.


That is the Father's glory. I know the greatest feelings I glory in are the successes and growth of my children. I sense that is a tiny taste of how our Father feels about us and our growth.


And it is what makes us Christ's disciples.


As I pray for my friends and family members in their times of need, I think of the times of trial I've faced as well. I know there are waves of trial coming my way too, and I hope I can follow the examples of faith of these dear ones. These good people are clinging to the True Vine, the Savior, and He is nourishing them as they go. I'm struck by my friends' faith. It is giving them strength to endure, and I'm inspired by their love for God, and God's love for them.


It's interesting that the verses that follow this passage I've just noted are all about love. God's love is evident in the way he purges us. He wants to make us disciples of Christ, and to glory in us, His children.


And so maybe the bad things happening to good people are actually just "proof" (since the word purge means to prove) that we belong to the True Vine and that we allow the Husbandman to work in our lives. Because He loves us and wants to make us His.