Jacob 7: Sherem and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Now that we've gotten some boring preaching out of the way, let's get back to some story.  In this chapter, we meet Sherem, the first in a series of silvertongued, anti-church, anti-Christ demagogues.  The illustrious Jacob, prophet of God and brother of the even more illustrious Nephi, crosses verbal swords with him.


Jacob Fails to Relate to the Everyman
After getting a number of Jacob's people to leave the church, Sherem tries to get Jacob to abandon his faith as well.  Here is Jacob's oh-so-humble commentary on that attempt:

And he had hope to shake me from the faith, notwithstanding the many revelations and the many things which I had seen concerning these things; for I truly had seen angels, and they had ministered unto me.  And also, I had heard the voice of the Lord speaking unto me in very word, from time to time; wherefore, I could not be shaken.

This, of course, is useless to the average, everyday, non-prophet member of the church, both in Jacob's time and in our time.  Thanks, Jacob, for letting us know that the way to withstand being led away from the church is by receiving the ministering of angels and hearing God's actual voice.  Those aren't exactly tools available to the masses who haven't been chosen as the Lord's mouthpiece on the earth, so it just seems like gloating when you say that these kinds of things are what made you immune to Sherem's evil lies.

I think it's also worth noting that Jacob seems to base his testimony on miraculous events, which flies in the face of the common Mormon teaching that faith is not built on miracles.  After all, Laman and Lemuel were visited by an angel, and they continued to be conniving, murderous dicks.  If he were a good Mormon, Jacob's testimony would be based on personal confirmation from the Holy Ghost.


Sherem's Brilliant Argument
This evil mastermind who'd led away so many precious Nephite faithful decides to bring out the big guns when arguing with Jacob—the crux of his argument is that nobody knows the future (verse 7--"no man knoweth such things; for he cannot tell of things to come") therefore teaching the people to worship a savior who won't come for hundreds of years is blasphemous.

Jacob's fiendishly clever response is to ask Sherem if he denies the Christ.  Sherem, like a complete idiot, responds:

If there should be a Christ, I would not deny him;  but I know that there is no Christ, neither has been, nor ever will be.

So, immediately after condemning Jacob for claiming to know of a future event, Sherem makes the even bolder claim that he knows this future event will never happen.  In true Mormon fashion, however, instead of addressing the contradictory nature of Sherem's argument, Jacob—wait for it—bears his testimony.  Because saying you believe something bunches and bunches always trumps an appeal to logic.


The Four Most Powerful Words in the Book of Mormon
In verse 13, Sherem asks Jacob to "show me a sign" that all that stuff Jacob's been saying about Christ is true.  This is as sure a way to get yourself killed in the Book of Mormon as it is to have sex in the dark in a slasher movie.

Jacob throws a little fit about how stupid it is for God to show him a sign of "the thing which thou knowest to be true."  Because obviously anyone who preaches against the church actually knows that it's true but is simply working for the devil.  But then God smites the crap out of Sherem, who apparently spends several days unconscious.  When he wakes up he asks to address the people before he dies.  So Sherem tells everybody that he was deceived by the devil and that he lied and that the scriptures were true...and then he dies.

Ridiculous.  This story is written at barely a fourth grade level.  It's too easy and too neat and too perfect and too vindicating for the protagonist.  It doesn't ring of truth and the plot sucks.  Not to mention the characters are all one-dimensional.

But it gets better.


Happily Ever After
Verses 21 and 23 convey an even more sickeningly fictitious ending:

And when the multitude had witnessed that he spake these things as he was about to give up the ghost, they were astonished exceedingly; insomuch that the power of God came down upon them, and they were overcome that they fell to the earth.

And it came to pass that peace and the love of God was restored again among the people and they searched the scriptures and hearkened no more to the words of this wicked man.

...and the kingdom rejoiced in the marriage of the prince and princess and they ruled together for many years and the people loved them and the kingdom was prosperous and the bad guy got his comeuppance and everybody but him lived happily ever after.

Also, there's two subjects in the first sentence of verse 23 despite the use of a singular verb.  And there's the added problem of not hearkening unto the words of a man who at two different times preached completely opposite things.  Which words weren't they hearkening unto?  The words when he was denying Christ or the words when he was confirming the scriptures?

This crap is worse than Twilight.  Joseph Smith could have benefited greatly from an editor.  You know, someone to say, "Hey, your book sucks, I'm not publishing it."


Adieu
The last word of the chapter, which Joseph translated from Reformed Egyptian into English, is a French word with a direct English translation.  Why?

It's not proof that the Book of Mormon is a fraud or anything, but it's unnecessary and illogical.

Seriously, what's the point of that?

Keeping Up Appearances

I used the Lord's name in vain in my parents' presence.

I think it was somewhat appropriate, considering they'd just told me that a member of the ward I'd grown up in had broken his leg while working alone on his property and had to hobble all the way back to his house to get help.  "Oh, God, that's horrible!" is a completely normal, sympathetic reaction.  But immediately after I said that, I realized that I wasn't supposed to say those kinds of things around family.  I said "damn" once, too, but I was on the phone in the other room, so I'm not sure if they heard me.

It's exhausting trying to maintain an inoffensive, sanitized demeanor around my family.  I know their ears won't start bleeding if I swear, but considering how little they understand about my departure from the church, I hesitate to demonstrate any kind of behavior that will reemphasize to them how much my lifestyle differs from theirs.  I work on Sundays (almost every Sunday, actually), but I don't bring it up unless a specific day is being discussed.  I neglect to discuss the R-rated movies and more intense TV shows that I've watched.  And I still haven't told them that I've been living with my girlfriend for the last two years...although I'm pretty sure they know.

My attempts to modify my behavior in my family's company reminds me of the constant need I felt as a church member to continually force myself into the Mormon box.  Growing up, I was always aware of who and what everyone else (family, local church leaders, the Brethren, God, etc.) wanted me to be.  And I spent so much time trying to change myself to fit that mold.

You like playing computer games to relax?  Nope!  Better use your time more effectively and read your scriptures!
You're an introvert who's uncomfortable in crowds?  Nope!  Better speak regularly in front of the whole congregation while preparing yourself to spend two years talking to thousands of different strangers!
You're frustrated and need an outlet for your anger?  Nope!  Keep smiling, pray, read your scriptures, and ask God to help you let go of anger next Fast Sunday.
You like boobs?  Nope!  Train yourself to keep your eyes up because even enjoying the shapeliness of a fully-clothed female body is wrong!

It was exhausting.  I mean, I thought it was normal at the time.  I guess maybe it seemed like life was supposed to be that hard and feel that hopeless.  On some level, I think I knew that I was acting like someone that I wasn't.  But I think I was scared that it was because everybody else at church was better.  I was scared that the other kids (well, except for the ones that obviously didn't bother with the church's stringent rules) didn't need to act.  I was doing everything I could to modify my behavior to fit the church's expectations and I feared that some of my more pious comrades came upon their behaviors naturally.  I was running as fast as I possibly could just to break even.  Now, of course, I realize that my tireless work to maintain a good image made me appear to be the nearly the model of a Mormon adolescent.  But at the time, I felt like I was just barely hanging in there.

Now that I've let go of the church and its rules and expectations, I've learned to challenge myself based on my own standards and my own rules.  It's much, much better this way.  I'm much more motivated to succeed and much less hard on myself when I don't.  I want to achieve my goals because they're my goals--not the ideals imposed on me by a religion that was thrust upon me as a child.  And when I fail to achieve my goals I've only failed myself--instead of failing my parents, my bishop, my church and my deity.

But every time I go back home I feel the need to, for my family's sake, change how I act and withhold information about my life to avoid offending their sensibilities and exacerbating an already awkward relationship.  It's almost useful as a reminder of how much I've gained from leaving the church.  It reminds me how much I can be myself when I'm away from the influence of Mormonism.

But I love being as free as I am.  And I've been out of the church and out of my parents' house for so long now that I think I'm getting worse and worse at maintaining the allusion of a semblance of piety.  And one of these days, I'm going to accidentally let loose an F-Bomb...and that will be a very, very uncomfortable situation.

Jacob 6: Badly in Need of a Retcon

Jacob Mixes his Metaphors
Our current protagonist just got finished relating a very complicated vineyard allegory in which the prophets were servants in the vineyard and the people (both Israelites and Gentiles) were represented by various branches of various trees.  But before moving on to another topic, he makes this statement in verse 3:

And how blessed are they who have labored diligently in his vineyard

Wait—based on the allegory he's referring to, those who labored in the vineyard were God's prophets.  Is he telling his people "your prophets are blessed because of their work?"   Because that doesn't seem very useful, considering he spends this chapter trying to scare people out of Hell.  He must be referring to his people when he refers to laborers, which flies in the face of the detailed illustration of God's plan he provided in the previous chapter.


Jacob Forgets The Hands-Off Approach
The prophet makes some interesting amnesiac comments about God across several verses.

He [God] stretches forth his hands unto them [Israel] all the day long

...cleave unto God as he cleaveth unto you.  

...ye have been nourished by the good word of God all the day long 

But this everpresent, relentlessly nurturing God is the same one who disappeared twice in the middle of the Allegory of the Olive Tree and was happy to give up and burn stuff if his servants didn't talk him out of it.  Clearly, Jacob has as selective memory.   Because the god he described in the previous chapter doesn't stretch his hand forth all the day long, doesn't cleave unto his children and doesn't nourish us with his word all the day long.

An Understandable Misunderstanding

My Mormon "history" came up at work again a few days ago.  

We were, for some reason I can't recall, discussing holiday traditions.  And one of my employees with whom I've had several discussions about the church asked whether Mormons have any specific traditions in the way of holiday foods.

I casually replied, "Nah, Christmas is pretty basic for us.  We don't eat anything unusual.  Just the lamb entrails and stuff.  Pretty normal."

I was joking, of course.  But then I saw the look on his face and I remembered telling him about the dead-dunking and the magic underwear--and I suddenly realized that he had no reason to believe I was joking.  I'd told him much weirder stuff that was completely factual, so a traditional Christmas meal of lamb intestines didn't seem comparatively outlandish.  I quickly had to assure him that I was making that part up and reiterate that my childhood Christmases were pretty all-American--turkey, ham, presents, trees, stockings...pretty normal.

It's crazy to realize that, because of my deadpan delivery and the information that I'd provided him with, it was totally reasonable to believe the completely bizarre crap I'd just come up with.  A religion that can result in that kind of misunderstanding is a pretty weird religion.

Mormon-Themed Memes 4

I had some more time to kill and an irresponsibly fast internet connection, so I continued making masses of my meaningless Mormon memes.