The lengthy string of kings and crises in the Jaredite record continues.
The Creative Juices are Not Flowing
Verse 3 provides a familiar scenario to even the most casual scriptorian. King Omer is warned by God in his dream that he and his family need to pack up and leave for their own safety. This is something we've seen before with Lehi way back in the beginning of the book and also—more famously—with Jesus's stepdad.
I guess I'm a little disappointed that God couldn't be more creative. He did produce a universe out of nothing, after all, so creativity should be one of the ultimate divine characteristics. Obviously, God is more than welcome to continue using methods that have worked for him in the past. And obviously, the fact that plot devices have been reused doesn't prove anything about the origins of the Book of Mormon. But I do think that recycling bits of stories from earlier scripture is exactly the kind of thing we should expect to see if some guy is making this up and trying to get people to think it's from the same source as the Bible.
And speaking of a lack of creativity, the king Jared is killed in this chapter in a tired fashion. Why is it that so many ancient American monarchs get murdered while literally seated on a throne?
The Curelom Conundrum
Why.
I fully realize that this point is easily among the least original issues I've brought up. But it still demands an answer so I'm gonna bring it up anyway. Elephants—that's problematic. Maybe we can pretend that New World elephants are really mammoths or something. Any way you look at it, it's a stretch. But cureloms and cumoms?
The only reason I can think of for an animal in the Book of Mormon to have a nonsensical name in what is supposed to be an English translation is that these animals became extinct before European settlers arrived on this part of the globe, so there never was an English name for them. But considering that these things were supposed to be particularly useful, probably domesticated, and quite populous, shouldn't there be a pretty blatant archaeological record of them? Shouldn't American school children be learning about the beasts with three legs and prehensile snouts (or whatever the hell a curelom is) when they study the Native Americans and adobe huts and coup sticks and tumuluses and buffalo?
Maybe Joseph forgot for a moment that he was supposed to be writing a scriptural historical epic and he let a bit of fantasy sneak in. If he hadn't caught himself and course corrected, maybe we would have seen Coriantumr of the Sky Elves go to battle against the Wizard Clan of Shiz at the end of Ether.
You Old Dog
Coriantum is anointed king in his father's stead. Emer, his father, is so wonderful that he sees "the Son of Righteousness," which sounds really important but is only mentioned in passing. Coriantum is described as following in Emer's footsteps, which should mean that he is also righteous. But when his wife dies, this king marries "a young maid" in his twilight years (a little wish fulfillment sneaking into Joseph's writing?). To be fair, I guess that, depending on the nature of the relationship and the level of the young maid's maturity, this may not be technically wrong, but it's still kind of creepy. I'd have been a lot more comfortable seeing Coriantum marry a girl a quarter of his age if he were depicted as wicked. At least then it wouldn't be so easy to interpret this kind of nuptial union as totally normal and totally fine.
Coriantum is anointed king in his father's stead. Emer, his father, is so wonderful that he sees "the Son of Righteousness," which sounds really important but is only mentioned in passing. Coriantum is described as following in Emer's footsteps, which should mean that he is also righteous. But when his wife dies, this king marries "a young maid" in his twilight years (a little wish fulfillment sneaking into Joseph's writing?). To be fair, I guess that, depending on the nature of the relationship and the level of the young maid's maturity, this may not be technically wrong, but it's still kind of creepy. I'd have been a lot more comfortable seeing Coriantum marry a girl a quarter of his age if he were depicted as wicked. At least then it wouldn't be so easy to interpret this kind of nuptial union as totally normal and totally fine.
Oh, and Coriantum also lived to be one hundred forty-two years old. I can't decide if that's more difficult to believe than the barges that brought his ancestors to America.
Creating a Problem, Selling the Solution
After society casts out the prophets, bad things happen—drought, famine, a bizarre prevalence of hyperintelligent venemous snakes. Verse 35 sounds like a happy ending if you don't think about it too much:
And it came to pass that when they had humbled themselves sufficiently before the Lord he did send rain upon the face of the earth; and the people began to revive again, and there began to be fruit in the north countries, and in all the countries round about. And the Lord did show forth his power unto them in preserving them from famine.Listen, if all God has to do is "send" rain to end the crisis, then he caused it. He allowed the drought to happen by permitting it to continue. The difference between one sunny day and a full-fledged famine is how long God waits to sprinkle some precipitation.
Verse 33 explicitly states that God is the one who sent the serpents that terrorized the people and sent their livestock stampeding off. This whole thing is God's fault. He did this. He didn't "preserve" them from anything—he almost chose to destroy them. He used his unmatched power to coerce the people into behavior he approved of (I wonder how that affects their free agency) and only then did he decide to stop being a sadistic, power-tripping asshole.
This is unrighteous dominion. This is manipulation. This is not something a benevolent god would do. This is not something that someone worthy of our worship would do.
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