Tuesday, September 20, 2022

The Publican and Christ

This is the follow up to the previous post titled The Pharisee and the Publican. Please read it first.

So now the Publican has answered the door when Christ knocked. Now what? Hug? Shake hands? No, more likely fall at His feet, being overcome with Godly sorrow, recognizing his nothingness and Christ's goodness, overcome by Christ's love for him, knowing that Christ died for him, the ungodly! 



The Publican, having been justified by faith, what, if anything, will Christ ask of the Publican? Will he ask him to reform his ways and live the gospel? No. But Christ will teach the Publican His Gospel and explain to him that he can have access to God's Grace because of his faith. He offers as a gift to the Publican, His grace. A free gift. The Publican must accept the gift. This is not as easy at it sounds. For the Pharisee it is quite impossible until he becomes like the Publican, a sinner, and pleads for mercy. But the Pharisee may not think he needs mercy. Why should he? His justification by works is quite impressive to all those that matter--his bishop, stake president, his family, his fellow high councilors and himself!

But back to the Publican and Christ.

Christ will teach the Publican His Father's words, after explaining that because of Adam all die, and because of Adam sin entered into the world, but because of Him all may live and be reconciled to God. Not by living the gospel. Not by becoming religious like the Pharisee. Not by paying tithing or keeping the word of wisdom. Not by performing ecclesiastical duties. Not by daily scripture study, but by coming to Him. By turning to Him. The Publican, unlike the Pharisee, knows that Christ is his only hope. The Publican is taught that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us. It is the righteousness of Christ that will save him from his sins!

But, you keep asking, what must the Publican do? I hope by now you know that living the gospel, being religious, like the Pharisee will not cut it. Adam's fall brought death and the Judgment of God on us, and our, and your, only hope is in Christ. Leave your Sunday best in your closet. Quit trying to impress God. He is not impressed with your good works, your righteousness, your white shirt! Quit preening in the mirror of others' opinion. He has made it crystal clear that He can only help the lost, the last, the least and the dead. He can only work with Publicans. 

Let Paul take it from here and teach us what happens next:

Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through Jesus Christ, and have access to His grace, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God.

"That as sin hath reigned unto death, even so might grace reign through righteousness unto eternal life by Jesus Christ our Lord

What shall we say then? Shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound?

God forbid. How shall we, that are dead to sin, live any longer therein?

Know ye not, that so many of us as were baptized into Jesus Christ were baptized into his death?

Therefore we are buried with him by baptism into death: that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life.

For if we have been planted together in the likeness of his death, we shall be also in the likeness of his resurrection:

Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin.

For he that is dead is freed from sin.

Now if we be dead with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with him:

Knowing that Christ being raised from the dead dieth no more; death hath no more dominion over him.

For in that he died, he died unto sin once: but in that he liveth, he liveth unto God.

Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Let not sin therefore reign in your mortal body, that ye should obey it in the lusts thereof.

Neither yield ye your members as instruments of unrighteousness unto sin: but yield yourselves unto God, as those that are alive from the dead, and your members as instruments of righteousness unto God.

For sin shall not have dominion over you: for ye are not under the law, but under grace.

But God be thanked, that ye were the servants of sin, but ye have obeyed from the heart that form of doctrine which was delivered you.

Being then made free from sin, ye became the servants of righteousness.

I speak after the manner of men because of the infirmity of your flesh: for as ye have yielded your members servants to uncleanness and to iniquity unto iniquity; even so now yield your members servants to righteousness unto holiness.

For when ye were the servants of sin, ye were free from righteousness.

What fruit had ye then in those things whereof ye are now ashamed? for the end of those things is death.

But now being made free from sin, and become servants to God, ye have your fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting life.

For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord" (Romans 4:1-2; 5:23; 6:1-23).

Clear? I thought not. At least not at first glance, but it becomes clear as you experience it. Reading it is not enough and counts for very little. The Publican (like Alma the elder, Alma the younger, Amulek, Nephi, Sons of Mosiah, Paul, etc) experienced his need for mercy. The Pharisee did not. Can you? For those who struggle with the Parable of the Pharisee and the Publican, ask why it is that you struggle? Certainly we must do more you say? What must you do more, I ask? 

Perhaps exercising the type of faith required is more difficult than it seems. Perhaps baptism is much more than just becoming a member of the church. Perhaps we have bought into the pulpit narrative (the Pharisee narrative) so totally that we can't hear the scripture narrative (the Publican and Christ). 

Let me ask you three questions: Have you ever experienced being 'harrowed up' by your sins? Have you ever fallen to the earth and pled for His mercy because of your sins? Have you ever experienced Godly sorrow because of the goodness of God and your nothingness? 

What? You ask. What indeed.

Let Paul conclude this post:

The Publican attained to righteousness, by faith.

But the Pharisee followed after the law of righteousness, but did not attain righteousness.

Why? Because he sought it not by faith, but by the works of the law.
(Romans 9:30-32)

For the Pharisee, being ignorant of God’s righteousness, went about to establish his own righteousness, and has not submitted himself unto the righteousness of Christ.
(Romans 10:1-4)

Sunday, September 18, 2022

The Pharisee and The Publican

Is this just an ordinary sermon about humility or is there much more to it?

 Luke 18:9-14

"Jesus also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and despised everybody else.

Two men went up to the temple to pray: one, a Pharisee, the other, a tax collector.

The Pharisee stood apart by himself and prayed thus: `God, I thank thee that I am not like others are, greedy, unjust, adulterers - and I thank thee especially that I am not like this tax collector. 

I fast two days every week and I give thee a tenth of all my income.

But the tax collector stood a long way off and would not even raise his eyes to heaven. 

Instead, he beat on his breast and said, `O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.' 

I tell you, this man went to his house justified rather than the other: 

For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted." 

In the Name of Jesus Christ. Amen. 


Now then. The first thing to get off the table is the notion that this parable is simply a lesson in the virtue of humility. It is not. It is an instruction in the futility of religion - in the idleness of the proposition that there is anything at all you can do to put yourself right with God no matter how long the list. It is about the folly of even trying. 

The parable occurs after a series of illustrations of what Jesus means by faith, and it comes shortly before He announces, for the third time, that He will die and rise again. It is therefore not a recommendation to adopt a humble religious stance rather than a proud one; rather it is a warning to drop all religious stances - and all moral and ethical ones, too - when you try to grasp your justification before God. It is, in short, an exhortation to move on to the central point of the Gospel: faith in Christ, repentance, relying alone upon His merits, and rebirth!

Consider the characters in this parable. Forget the prejudice that Jesus' frequently stinging remarks about Pharisees have formed in your mind. Give this particular Pharisee all the credit you can. He is, after all, a good man. To begin with, he is not a crook, not given to rock the boat, not a womanizer. He takes nothing he hasn't honestly earned, he gives everyone he knows fair and full measure, and he is faithful to his wife, patient with his children, and steadfast for his friends and community. 

He is not at all like this publican, this tax-farmer, who is the worst kind of crook: a legal one, a big operator, a mafia-style enforcer working for the Roman government on a nifty franchise that lets him collect - from his fellow Jews, mind you, from the people whom the Romans might have trouble finding, but whose whereabouts he knows and whose language he speaks - all the money he can bleed out of them, provided only he pays the authorities an agreed upon flat fee. He has been living for years on the cream he has skimmed off their milk money. He is a fat cat who drives a stretch limo, drinks nothing but Chivas Regal, and never shows up at a party without at least two $1,000-a night call girls in tow. 

The Pharisee, however, is not only good; he is religious. And not hypocritically religious, either. His outward uprightness is matched by an inward discipline. He fasts twice a week and he puts his money where his mouth is: his tithing--ten percent off the top for God and the Church. If you know where to find a dozen or two such upstanding members, I know several wards that will accept delivery of them, no questions asked and all Jesus' parables to the contrary notwithstanding. 

But best of all, this Pharisee thanks God for his happy state. Luke says that Jesus spoke this parable to those who trusted in themselves that they were righteous. But Jesus shows us the Pharisee in the very act of giving God the glory. Maybe the reason he went up to the temple to pray was that, earlier in the week, he slipped a little and thought of his righteousness as his own doing. Maybe he said to himself, "That's terrible, I must make a special visit to the temple and set my values straight by thanking God." 

But what does Jesus tell you about this good man - about this entirely acceptable candidate for the High Council? He tells you not only that he is in bad shape, but that he is in worse shape than this tax-farmer who is as rotten as they come and who just waltzes into the temple and does nothing more than say as much. 

In short, he tells you an unacceptable parable. For you would - I know I would - gladly accept the Pharisee's temple recommend and welcome him to our midst. But would you accept me for long if I had my hand in the church till to the tune of a BMW, fine wine and a couple of whores?

Would you, the local, or the general authorities think it was quite enough for me to come into church on a Sunday, stare at the tips of my shoes, and say, "God, be merciful to me a sinner?" Would the bishop commend my imitation of the parable, give me a temple recommend, and praise me for preaching not only in word but in deed? 

Jesus, to be sure, says that God would; I myself, however, have some doubts about you and the bishop. You might find it a bit too ... vivid. There seems to be just no way of dramatizing this parable from our point of view. That being the case, turn it around and look at it from God's. 

The Pharisee walks straight over, pulls up a chair to God's table, and whips out a pack of cards. He fans them, bridges them, does a couple of one-handed cuts and an accordion shuffle, slides the pack over to God, and says, "Cut. I'm in the middle of a winning streak." And God looks at him with a sad smile, gently pushes the deck away, and says, "Maybe you're not. Maybe it just ran out." 

So the Pharisee picks up the deck again and starts the game himself. "Acey-Ducey, okay?" And he deals God a two of fasting, a queen of tithing, and a king of no adultery. And God says, "Look, I told you. Maybe this is not your game. I don't want to take your money." "Oh, come on," says the Pharisee. "How about seven-card stud, tens wild? I've been real lucky with tens wild lately." And God looks a little annoyed and says, "Look, I meant it. Don't play me. The odds here are always on my side. Besides, you haven't even got a full deck. You'd be smarter to be like the guy over there who came in with you. He lost his cards before he got here. Why don't you just have a drink on the house and go home?" 

Do you see now what Jesus is saying in this parable? He is saying that as far as the Pharisee's ability to win a game of justification with God is concerned, he is no better off than the publican. As a matter of fact, the Pharisee is worse off; because while they're both losers, the publican at least has the sense to recognize the fact and trust God's offer of redemption and eventually, perfection

The point of the parable is that they are both dead in their sins, and their only hope is someone who can raise the dead. "Ah but," you say, "is there no distinction to be made? Isn't the Pharisee somehow less further along in death than the publican? Isn't there some sense in which we can give him credit for the real goodness he has, for living his religion?" 

To which I answer, you are making the same miscalculation as the Pharisee. Spiritual death is death. Given enough room to maneuver, it eventually produces forever spiritual death. In the case of the publican, for example, his life so far has been quite long enough to force upon him the recognition that, as far as his being able to deal with God is concerned, he is finished. The Pharisee, on the other hand, looking at his clutch of good deeds (his cards), has figured that they are more than enough to keep him in the game for the rest of his life

But there is his error. For the rest of his life here, maybe. But what about for the length and breadth of eternity? 

Take your own case. Let us suppose that you are an even better person than the Pharisee. Let us assume that you are untempted to any sin except the sin of covetousness, and that even there, your resolve is such that, for the remainder of your days, you never do in fact fall prey to that vice. Are you so sure, however, that the robustness of your virtue is the only root of your non-covetousness disposition? Might not a very large source of it be nothing more than lack of opportunity? In other words, quit looking at your deeds and ask yourself what is your real capacity for sin?

Have you never thought yourself immune to some vice only to find that you fell into it when the temptation became sufficient? The lady who resists a five-dollar proposition sometimes gives in to a five-million-dollar one: men who would never betray friends have been known to betray friends they thought were about to betray them. The reformer immune to the corruption of power finds corruption easier as he gains power. The people with the most seem to always want more. Take your dormant covetousness then. From now till the hour of your death, you may very well not meet that one situation that will galvanize it into action. 

But in eternity - can you say the capacity for covetousness or any of an unlimited number of sins is not there? Can you say in that state that your covetousness is not within you just because it was not manifested during your life? Can you confidently predict you will never want more than another? Is the armor of your religion so utterly without a chink? 

There, you see, is the problem as God sees it. For him, the eternal order is a perpetual-motion machine: it can tolerate no friction at all. Even one grain of sand - one lurking vice in one of the redeemed - given long enough, will find somewhere to lodge and something to rub on. And that damaged something, given another of the infinite eternities ties within eternity itself, will go off center and shake the next part loose. And then the next; and so straight on into what can only be the beginning of the end: the very limitlessness of the opportunity for mischief will eventually bring the whole works to a grinding halt. In other words to be in His presence their can be no grains of sand, only perfection, and only He can perfect us!

What Jesus is saying in this parable is that no human goodness is good enough to pass a test like that, and that therefore God is not about to risk it. He will not take our cluttered life, as we hold it, into eternity. He will take only the clean emptiness of our repentance in the power of Jesus' redemption and He will change us!

He condemns the Pharisee because he takes his stand on a life God cannot use; he commends the publican because he rests his case on a death that God can use. The fact, of course, is that they are both equally fallen and therefore both alike have been offered the gift of repentance, but only one accepts the gift. The other refuses the gift because he is 'living the gospel.'

But the trouble with the Pharisee is that for as long as he refuses to confess the first fact, he will simply be unable to believe the second. He will be justified in his death, but he will be so busy doing the bookkeeping on a life he cannot hold that he will never be able to enjoy himself. It's just misery to try to keep count of what God is no longer counting. Your entries keep disappearing. 

If you now see my point, you no doubt conclude that the Pharisee is a fool. You are right. But at this point you are about to run into another danger. You probably conclude that he is also a rare breed of fool - that the number of people who would so blindly refuse to recognize such a happy issue out of all their afflictions has got to be small. 

There you are wrong. We all refuse to see it. Or better said, while we sometimes catch a glimpse of it, our love of justification by works is so profound that at the first opportunity we run from the strange light of grace straight back to the familiar darkness of the law. 

You do not believe me? I shall prove it to you: the publican goes down to his house justified rather than the other. Well and good, you say; yes indeed. But let me follow him now in your mind's eye as he goes through the ensuing week and comes once again to the temple to pray. What is it you want to see him doing those seven days? What does your moral sense tell you he ought at least try to accomplish? Are you not itching, as his spiritual adviser, to urge him into another line of work - something perhaps a little more upright than putting the arm on his fellow countrymen for fun and profit? In short, do you not feel compelled to insist on at least a little reform? 

To help you be as clear as possible about your feelings, let me set you two exercises. For the first, take him back to the temple one week later. And have him go back there with nothing in his life reformed: walk him in this week as he walked in last - after seven full days of skimming, wenching, and high-priced Scotch. Put him through the same routine: eyes down, breast smitten, God be merciful, and all that. 

Now then. I trust you see that on the basis of the parable as told, God will not mend his divine ways any more than the publican did his wicked ones. He will do this week exactly what he did last: God, in short, will send him down to his house justified. The question in this first exercise is, do you like that? And the answer, of course, is that you do not. You gag on the unfairness of it. The rat is getting off free. 

For the second exercise, therefore, take him back to the temple with at least some reform under his belt: no wenching this week perhaps, or drinking cheaper Scotch and giving the difference to fast offerings. 

What do you think now? What is it that you want God to do with him? Question him about the extent to which he has mended his ways? For what purpose? If God didn't count the Pharisee's impressive list, why should he bother with this two-bit one? Or do you want God to look on his heart, not his list, and commend him for good intentions at least? Why? The point of the parable was that the publican confessed that he was dead in his sins, not that his heart was in the right place. 

Why are you so bent on destroying the story by sending the publican back for his second visit with the Pharisee's speech in his pocket? The honest answer is, that while you understand the thrust of the parable with your mind, your heart has a desperate need to believe its exact opposite. And so does mine. We all long to establish our identity by seeing ourselves as approved in God's and other people's eyes. We spend our days preening ourselves before the mirror of their opinion so we will not have to think about the nightmare of appearing before them naked and uncombed. And we hate this parable because it says plainly that it is the nightmare that is the truth of our condition

We fear the publican's acceptance because we know precisely what it means. It means that we will never be free until we are dead to the whole business of justifying ourselves. But since that business is our life, that means not until we are dead. For Jesus came to save us from our sins. Not to reform the reformable, not to improve the improvable ... but then, I have said all that. Let us make an end: as long as you are struggling like the Pharisee to be alive in your own eyes - and to the precise degree that your struggles are for what is holy, just, and good - you will resent the apparent indifference to your pains that God shows in making the effortlessness of death the touchstone of your justification. The Publican He can work with. The Pharisee He cannot.

Only when you are finally able, with the publican, to admit that you are dead in your sins will you be able to stop balking at grace and its grace-to-grace truth. It is, admittedly, a terrifying step. You will cry and kick and scream before you take it, because it means putting yourself out of the only game you know. 

For your comfort though, I can tell you three things. First, it is only one step. Second, it is not a step out of reality into nothing, but a step from fiction into truth. And third, it will make you laugh out loud at how short the trip home was: it wasn't a trip at all; He was already there, knocking on your door. You just needed to open it! 

Credit Robert Capon his delightful words mingled with many of my own.


Wednesday, September 14, 2022

My Friend Michael Howery

One of my best friends, Michael Howery, passed away in December 2021, and I have missed him. Even though I moved to Arizona several years ago, Mike and I would get together when I came to Utah. We were both old men then and would go to his favorite place for pancakes in Murray, Utah.  It would take at least two trips on my part as he would forget to pick me up at the Frontrunner Station in Murray, so I would have to take the train back and then drive to his house and pick him up. The last time I saw him he could barely walk, but refused my assistance to help him to the door.  Four months later he died.



Mike and I met at the office of the Utah Attorney General in 1973. I had just gotten out of the Marine Corps and went to work for the Utah Attorney General where Mike was working. We both worked across the street on 4th South from the old Third District Courthouse, and represented the state in collecting child support from mostly men who had failed to pay, and whose spouse ended up on welfare.  The state had a right to recoup welfare payments made to the spouse. We were only there a few months when I went to work with a small law firm. I later got Mike an interview there but he turned down their offer.

We immediately became good friends, life long friends who shared a passion for learning the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Mike was the most feeling and passionate person I knew, but not the most sensible man in the world. These traits rarely go together, but Mike was infinitely better and far more rare. Most people have a wish list, but Mike had a wish file (A-Z) where he would put things that he wanted, like cars, houses and other things. This was a paradox in Mike who really didn't want any of these things, but thought he did. He knew they would not make his life better, but he loved to think they would.

We began our learning the Gospel together by sharing articles, or I should say Mike would find, copy and give me articles to read. They were from many sources and they eventually led us to discover Hugh Nibley and later Avraham Gileadi. We devoured Nibley together, first reading what at that time were his essays which had not yet been published in book form. Mike would go down to FARMS in Provo and find them, buy them and always bring me a copy.  Many were marked in his unforgettable sharp penmanship with elaborate arrows and notes and underscores.  I cherished these the most because I could see what had made an impression on him at that time, only to later receive these same articles marked totally differently. It was through His reading of Nibley, but not just Nibley, but the scriptures quoted by Nibley that he lost his desire for things, or at least thought he did.  

Yes, he still wanted a big house and a nice car, but he never really worked at it like most of us would.  Instead he 'hoped' he would get it. This led him to others with the same hope and dreams and they waited their entire lives for the millions of dollars they were going to receive. He told me many times that the money had been 'wired,' was 'in the bank,' or just needed this paper or that paper to get it. I never deflated his hope, because I would have loved to see him have it because by this time he would have used it much differently than buying all the things in his wish file. But I knew he never would. It was not in the cards for him. The Lord had other more important things to teach him. And the paradox? He knew it.

There was one characteristic of God that Mike did not like and that was the justice of God. He could not understand how God could punish us. I think this stemmed from the fact that Mike could not punish anyone. Sure, he could be upset with someone and even say something to them, but he could not punish. He didn't like words like God's anger or God's wrath. But at the time I didn't understand it either and by the time it was revealed to me, he also learned it and we rejoiced together in God's mercy and understood that everything God does, He does because He loves us. He learned that God loves us so much that, as Mike said, he will even burn the hell out of us if we do not repent and come to him.

Mike had a problem with authority, especially in the church. He struggled with it and yet knew many of the brethren personally. His sense of truth was in tune with the equality of men and he did not believe we needed a hierarchy in the church. And although he loved them He did not like the way some of them treated others. The 'September 6' was a struggle for him. He knew many of these individuals and could not understand how a few men (because of the hierarchy) could influence others contrary to the teachings of Christ, and excommunicate them. He believed in forgiveness and charity. He didn't think the church needed protecting. If it could not stand alone on the teachings of Christ and His words, then it should fail. 

There were few, if any, who were better teachers than Mike, but his faith in Christ alone got him into trouble with local leaders on occasion, like the time Mike wore a crucifix when he taught the Gospel Doctrine class. Or during a discussion when he was on the High Council about wearing white shirts, he offered the solution that perhaps they should wear white collars instead. 

His ability to see connections and teach them was a gift and I am grateful that he shared his gifts with me. We got together for lunch and/or golf almost every week, sometimes more than once a week. We would discuss for hours what we were learning and how some things that we observed were contrary to the teachings of Christ. But we knew that we were not to 'steady the ark' as it was not our job. But we did learn, because we studied Isaiah, that there was one who was an arrow hidden in the Lord's quiver who would come and restore Israel and that the Lord would complete His great and marvelous work, and that some in the hierarchy would fight against the Lord's servant. If there was one thing Mike taught me, it was that the Lord was in charge. 

Mike was a romantic and loved music. In fact one of his all time favorite songs was You're The Reason God Made OklahomaOnly a true romantic would love this song. I still listen to it and think of Mike and the feelings evoked from this song about love and romance. He wanted a love story and shared mine with me. He was happy for me when I married Annie. He, like no one else, understand the power of true love.

His life in his later years became more about love. While his children made decisions that saddened him, he never abandoned them, but continued to love them notwithstanding all the heartache and frustrations. His wife, Sally, was his rock and he knew it. She suffered so many heartaches herself and yet continued to be there for Mike even after all the bad business decisions he made. It was her talents that stabilized Mike and helped him live his later years without having to worry about money. His wish files were all gone. He read and continued to give me, instead of articles, books by Christian and even Jewish writers who he felt understood the Gospel and grace of Christ better than we in the church did. These books are still treasures for me because they came marked with his notes, arrows and highlights.

In our later years, (it was almost 50 years ago that we met) we just enjoyed each other and commented on what a blessing it was in our lives to have found each other. We knew it was not by chance and that the Lord had a hand in it because He wanted us to learn what we did learn so we could teach it to others.

Mike hated obituaries because he thought they made everyone into a saint, so he didn't want one. He thought they were phony and focused too much on accomplishments. Which reminds me of how much he hated those blurbs in the Church News about new Mission Presidents and General Authorities because they always had to say what great businessmen, administrators, professionals, etc, they had been. He felt the church called people to the hierarchy based on their worldly accomplishments. 

Mike chose not to have a funeral for the same reason and donated his body to the University of Utah Medical School. 

So Like Mike! 

Maybe this is my attempt to write his obituary so that Sally, Sarah, John, the twins and Julie can understand how Mike influenced my life and how much I loved him and still love him, and that I miss him terribly, even though I still feel Mike's influence in my life. 

I love you Mike.

Monday, September 5, 2022

Synopsis of Hugh Nibley's King-men and the Freemen

I have been thinking a lot lately about who would be on Captain Moroni's radar among those in America today who are desirous to destroy democracy and install a king or an authoritarian leader. It lead me to read the account in the Book of Mormon and then to Hugh Nibley's King-men and Freemen in the Book of Mormon. This summary without comments, but with highlights is more timely today than it has ever been.



Mesoamerican archaeologists have directed their attention with increasing concern to evidence that might explain the strange and sudden demise of the great ancient American centers of civilization that left behind those imposing ruins "abandoned by unknown builders at an unknown time for unknown reasons. In attempting to get at the root of the matter the experts have, it would seem at present, come to some sort of consensus or convergence of ideas favoring one explanation over all the others, that the primary reason for the rapid decline and fall of those civilizations, far outweighing the rest, was the pressure brought to bear by one segment of the population, which they designate as "the elite," on another, which they call "the commoners." And so it is not going out of bounds to recall the long and exciting account in the Book of Mormon of the rivalry between the "king-men" and the "freemen" and what it led to.

As a completely self-consistent and convincing story, the epic tale of the "freemen" stands on its own feet; but modern relevance now invites us to examine it more closely and take it to heart more seriously than ever before. We cannot do better than to let the Book of Mormon tell the story in its own powerful and moving prose, leading off with the basic question:

Q. Who were the freemen?

A. The term is first used in the Book of Mormon to designate the people who supported the government of the Nephites, around 67 B.C., during a political crisis: "And those who were desirous that [the newly elected] Pahoran should remain chief judge over the land took upon them the name of freemen" (Alma 51:6).

Q. Shouldn't the name be capitalized?

A. It does not designate a political party, organization, or society, but simply denotes the body of common citizens supporting Moroni in his opposition to a group known as the "king-men." When the king-men's candidate lost and "the voice of the people came in favor of the freemen" (Alma 51:7), the king-men refused to accept defeat; it was their continued hostility which gave rise to the popular countermovement led by Moroni and designated by the name of freemen.

Q. Did Moroni organize them into a party?

A. No, he was simply fulfilling the duties of his office in alerting the public to the dangerous nature of the opposition.

Q. What was the nature of that danger?

A. The king-men at the time represented the resurgence of an element which had plagued the Nephites from the beginning. Just six years before the affair in question Moroni had overcome a coalition formed to overthrow the government and establish a monarchy. The name of freemen was not mentioned at that time, but the king-men ye have always with you: "Now those who were in favor of kings were those of high birth and they sought to be kings; and they were supported by those who sought power and authority over the people" (Alma 51:8).

Q. Wouldn't it have been within their rights to change the form of government if they got enough votes?

A. That is what they were aiming at, but it was their methods that brought Moroni into action against them. They were secretly preparing a coup to take over the government by force, and were in communication with the king of the Lamanites, with whom Moroni had just concluded a dangerous war brought on by Nephite dissenters (Alma 43:44). With peace barely achieved, the new threat made the affairs of the people of Nephi "exceedingly precarious and dangerous" (Alma 46:7).

Q. Who comprised the powerful coalition?

A. The original nucleus was composed of people who were making a lot of money in the postwar boom. When Helaman and other leaders of the church reprimanded their practices, calling upon them to walk uprightly before God, "there arose a dissension among them, and they would not give heed to the words of Helaman and his brethren; but they grew proud, being lifted up in their hearts, because of their exceedingly great riches; therefore they grew rich in their own eyes, and would not give heed to their words" (Alma 45:23–24).

Q. Were they organized from the first?

A. No. The new trouble began with "many little dissensions and disturbances . . . among the people" (Alma 45:21). But as was usual in these periodic slips back into the old materialism, the discontent crystallized around the person of a dynamic leader who was able to bring jarring and dissident elements together.

Q. Why did he oppose the government?

A. The old story—he wanted to run things himself. "Desirous to be king" (Alma 46:4), he took skillful advantage of the ground-swell favoring a monarchy in an atmosphere of sudden prosperity in which many "grew proud, being lifted up in their hearts" (Alma 45:24). The man who led them was Amalickiah, who is, in Moroni's opinion, another example of the "great wickedness one very wicked man can cause to take place among the children of men" (Alma 46:9).

Q. Ambition is hardly a rare human quality—what made him so very wicked?

A. It depends on how you define wickedness. This man was really quite a charmer, "a man of many flattering words," who won a great personal following and "led away the hearts of many people" (Alma 46:10). "A large and a strong man" of imposing presence (Alma 46:3); to a powerful and persuasive rhetoric he added the fierce resolve of one who "had sworn to drink the blood of Moroni," his chief opponent (Alma 51:9). Shrewd and calculating, "a man of cunning device" (Alma 46:10), he knew how to preserve himself: "He did not come down himself to battle" (Alma 49:11). Amalickiah was willing to pay any price to gain his objective, for "he did care not for the blood of his people" (Alma 49:10). His plan was skillfully conceived and executed.

Q. What did he do?

A. He not only brought together the conflicting factions of selfish and greedy Nephites but united them. At the same time, he "stirred up the hearts of the people of the Lamanites against the people of the Nephites," (Alma 51:9). For Amalickiah the answer to his problems and the realization of his ambitions lay in military action.

Q. How was he able to do that?

A. Putting himself forward as the champion of law and order, he then married the mourning queen and mounted the Lamanite throne (Alma 47:32–35). Then he stirred up the war-weary Lamanites to a pitch of war-fever entirely contrary to all their interests and inclinations but beneficial to his own. He accomplished that feat by masterful use of the media. When Amalickiah became king, "he began to inspire the hearts of the Lamanites against the people of Nephi; yea, he did appoint men to speak unto the Lamanites against the Nephites" (Alma 48:1). He saturated the airwaves, so to speak, and his propaganda worked. 

Q. Did he think the Nephites would support him after Moroni had thrown him out the first time?

A. He could always count on strong backing by the king-men. Let us go back to his first enterprise when he found a field ripe for his talents among those who were made fighting mad—"exceeding wroth"—by "the words of Helaman and his brethren." They had decided to take action and "were gathered together against their brethren," not merely to oppose them at the polls, but "determined to slay them" (Alma 46:1–2). Playing upon the king-men's disaffection and anger, Amalickiah became the man of the hour: "And those people who were wroth were also desirous that he should be their king" (Alma 46:4). By working on a common hostility to the government, Amalickiah was able to weld half a dozen divergent interests into a single force of king-men.

Q. I believe we started out asking what those divergent elements were.

A. First, as we have noted, the original core of those who refused all instruction, "because of their exceedingly great riches" (Alma 45:24), "gathered together" as a hate-group—"exceeding wroth"—to plan the extremist measures against those who stood in their way (Alma 46:1–2). Then there were passionate monarchists, who not only were "in favor of kings" but, being of "high birth, . . . sought to be kings" (Alma 51:8)—every one in line for the throne. After them were those who may not have claimed royal blood but nevertheless "professed the blood of nobility"—whether they could prove it or not (Alma 51:21). Then, aspiring judges and high clergy came into the picture. "Those judges had many friends and kindreds; and . . . almost all the lawyers and high priests, did gather themselves together, and unite with the kindreds of those judges" (3 Nephi 6:27). All those who aspire to be in the upper crust, "the elite," "los señores," gravitate toward the king-men in every period of Book of Mormon history. Though they were lower in the scale, "the lower judges of the land" were Amalickiah's strongest supporters, and he knew how to make use of them: "And they were seeking for power. And they had been led by the flatteries of Amalickiah, that if [the local magistrates] would support him and establish him to be their king, that he would make them rulers over the people" (Alma 46:4–5). Finally he used his cunning arguments and gratifying rhetoric on the people of the church with considerable success, as "there were many in the church who believed in the flattering words of Amalickiah" (Alma 46:7). This was six years before the name of freemen marked the opposition. It was by the tried and true method of hard, persistent work, constantly stirring up and playing upon the discontent, aspirations, and fears of various groups, with a ceaseless flow of clever and impassioned rhetoric, that Amalickiah was able to lay the solid foundation for his armed takeover of the country. It seems to have been kept very secret, or else nobody took it very seriously, for Moroni exploded when he heard about it.

Q. Do you think Moroni was surprised?

A. His behavior was that of a man caught off guard by acts of such vicious and deceitful nature that his own guileless spirit was slow to anticipate what it was loathe to attribute to any fellow creature: "When Moroni, who was the chief commander of the armies, . . . had heard of these dissensions, he was angry with Amalickiah" (Alma 46:11), and he reacted in a quick and spectacular manner; the drastic measures he took to alert the people show that they needed waking up in a great hurry. "He rent his coat, . . . took a piece thereof, and wrote upon it—In memory of our God, our religion, and freedom, and our peace, our wives, and our children" (Alma 46:12). This vividly recalls the inscriptions that the ancient Jews would put on their banners and trumpets before going out to war, as reported in the Battle Scroll of the Dead Sea Scrolls. During times of war, the priests would go forth before the ranks of warriors immediately before the battle, stirring their spirits with just such words as Moroni used when, having put the cloak on a pole and calling it the "title of liberty" (Alma 46:13), he went forth among the people, calling upon them "with a loud voice." Hearing Moroni, and seeing the banner, "the people came running together" (Alma 46:19–21). It was all according to ancient custom, as is clear from the sermons Moroni gave on the occasion, recalling their traditions to mind and giving us the official statement of just what it was freemen stood for.

The people who answered Moroni's summons came girding on their armor and "rending their garments in token, or as a covenant, that they would not forsake the Lord their God; or, in other words, if they should transgress the commandments of God, . . . the Lord should rend them even as they had rent their garments" (Alma 46:21). "And they cast their garments at the feet of Moroni, saying: . . . We shall be destroyed, even as our brethren in the land northward [the Jaredites], if we shall fall into transgression; yea, [God] may cast us at the feet of our enemies, . . . to be trodden underfoot, if we shall fall into transgression" (Alma 46:22). Recent studies have called attention to the forgotten but peculiar old Jewish rite of treading on one's garments while making a covenant. Moroni, in addressing the people on the occasion, sheds more light on the subject: "Surely God shall not suffer that we, who are despised . . . shall be trodden down and destroyed, until we bring it upon us by our own transgressions" (Alma 46:18). Then he reminds them of a tradition that takes the origin of the rent garment symbolism back to their ancestor Joseph, the suffering outcast, with whom they are to identify themselves: "Yea, let us preserve our liberty as a remnant of Joseph; yea, let us remember the words of Jacob, before his death." For Jacob, noting that part of the torn garment of Joseph was bloody and decayed and part of it perfectly preserved, saw in that a token of the future of his descendants (Alma 46:24–26). The story, exactly as Moroni recalls it, was also preserved among Jews living in Persia in the Middle Ages—a powerful confirmation of the reality of all this. Moroni asks the people: Which is the remnant of the garment that shall perish—could it perhaps be the people who have dissented from us, the king-men? Don't be smug about it! "Yea, and even it shall be ourselves if we do not stand fast in the faith of Christ" (Alma 46:27). In this episode we see just how the freemen think of themselves: two ideas are of primary importance.

Q. What two ideas?

A. First, as the descendants of Joseph they march under his banner—not the banner of the Grand Vizier of Egypt, but the torn and tattered garment of Joseph the outcast child, who was beaten, stripped, and sold into bondage. His cloak was taken from him, then torn and bloodied to prove that he was finished forever, while he went on to be a suffering servant and a prisoner in Egypt. Moroni calls upon his people to recognize their position as the meek and humble of the world, "we, who are despised" (Alma 46:18); it is the perennial call of the prophets of Israel, with Isaiah at the head. This is in vivid contrast to the rich and well-born, whose "pride and nobility" Moroni denounces as loudly as he proclaims the humility of the freemen (Alma 51:17, 18, 21). The second point is more important. You will notice that every time the dedication of the people to the cause of God is mentioned, it is followed immediately by a qualifying clause, proclaiming that the people who enter the covenant are not to be considered righteous simply by virtue of party affiliation. They do not represent the Good People as opposed to the Bad People: their own transgression can spoil everything at any time; they are quite as capable of sinning and incurring destruction as their enemies; they can bring down upon themselves the same calamities as the dissenters; their garments can be rent along with the most wicked; and they can be as completely destroyed as the Jaredites of old, for there is no guarantee that they are the Good People. This is an extremely important lesson driven home repeatedly in the Book of Mormon, that righteousness does not consist in being identified with this or that nation, party, church, or group. When you find a particularly wicked society in the story (as in Helaman 5:2), look back a few pages and you will probably find that not many years before, those same people were counted righteous. Or, when you find a particularly godless and ferocious lot of Lamanites, if you look a few pages ahead you may find them among the most blessed and favored of God's people (Helaman 6:36; Alma 26:23–33).

Q. But at any given time, surely, or in any particular conflict, you have right against wrong?

A. On the contrary, whenever the Nephites and Lamanites come to blows there is little to choose between them. If the "bad people" more often provoke war, the "good people" have equal responsibility, since they have the greater light. Take what must be the most clear-cut case of a good guy fighting a bad guy in the Book of Mormon: "And it came to pass that Alma fought with Amlici with the sword, face to face; and they did contend mightily, one with another" (Alma 2:29)—the righteous leader Alma versus the wicked arch-king-man Amlici.

Q. Right out of Star Wars.

A. That is exactly how the average reader would see it, knowing that "Alma, being a man of God, . . . was strengthened, insomuch that he slew Amlici with the sword" (Alma 2:30–31). And yet how did the Nephites, under Alma's instruction, view this particular showdown? "They believed that it was the judgments of God sent upon them because of their wickedness and their abominations; therefore they were awakened to a remembrance of their duty" (Alma 4:3). It was not a case of right against wrong at all, but of two wrongs teaching a grim lesson of mutual destruction; for what kind of a victory was it for the Nephites? "The people were . . . greatly afflicted for the loss of their brethren; . . . their flocks and herds [and] . . . their fields of grain . . . were trodden under foot and destroyed by the Lamanites. And so great were their afflictions that every soul had cause to mourn" (Alma 4:2–3).

Q. Admittedly war is hell. But they had to repel those Lamanite attacks!

A. Yes, Lamanite attacks which they knew perfectly well would never have taken place if they had not brought it on themselves. While Lehi's fleeing family was still within range of Jerusalem, the Lord told Nephi that it was his intention henceforward to keep the descendants of Laman and Lemuel (who were already making trouble as the original king-men!) in a position to threaten Nephi's people with destruction at all times, as "a scourge unto [his] seed, to stir them up in the ways of remembrance" (1 Nephi 2:24).

Q. In that case, can you blame the Nephites for being trigger-happy?

A. Yes, because the Lord also made it perfectly clear to Nephi that the Lamanites, no matter how formidable and threatening, "shall have no power over thy seed except they shall rebel against me also" (1 Nephi 2:23). Accordingly, if there was any war at all the Nephites shared the guilt for it.

Q. But can't we distinguish the Nephites and Lamanites as the right and wrong in a general sense?

A. Hardly. Moroni opposed and denounced his own head-of-state when he thought, quite wrongly as it turned out (and let that too be a lesson to us!), that he was guilty of the "great wickedness of those who are seeking for power and authority, yea, even those king-men" (Alma 60:17). It is the individual, not the society, that sins. At the time, the king-men were actually the official Nephite nation, in control of the city and the government. Yet not long after, we find some of the most brutal and bloodthirsty of these king-men enjoying pentecostal manifestations (Helaman 5:26–51). Repeatedly the Book of Mormon admonishes us not to judge people by labels. Lehi's family was still in Arabia when Nephi gave his brothers a lesson in that important principle. Laman and Lemuel had insisted that they were doing right because they were identified with the dominant traditionalist party in Jerusalem (who happened to be Zedekiah's king-men), who were righteous because they were the Chosen People and because they went to church. Nonsense! said Nephi: "Do ye suppose that the children of this land, . . . who were driven out by our fathers, do ye suppose that they were righteous? . . . Do ye suppose that our fathers would have been more choice than they if they had been righteous? I say unto you, Nay. Behold, the Lord esteemeth all flesh in one; he that is righteous is favored of God" (1 Nephi 17:33–35).

Q. But if the Law is a moral code, to observe the Law implies upright behavior.

A. That was the position of the Pharisees; but when the Lord was asked how one could be sure one was fulfilling the Law, he replied by holding up to his apostles as the perfect example of a righteous person ("Go ye therefore and do likewise!"), a Samaritan. This man was a member of the wrong nation, the wrong party, and the wrong church. He did a very unpleasant, messy, and inconvenient thing in helping a total stranger who for all he knew and to all appearances was a dirty, drunken, no-good tramp. At least two members of the right party, and the right nation, and the right religion, who were respected authorities and priests in Israel, discreetly and quietly declined the awkward involvement (which could certainly lead to complications) by passing down on the other side of the road (Luke 10:27–37). Now the "title of liberty," like the Good Samaritan, proclaimed the cause of the outcast and downtrodden against "the great wickedness of those who are seeking for power and authority, yea, even those king-men" (Alma 60:17).

Q. How do you distinguish the righteous from the wicked, then?

A. "As you cannot always tell the wicked from the righteous," the Lord told the Prophet Joseph, "therefore I say unto you, hold your peace until I shall see fit to make all things known" (D&C 10:37). In this connection another parable of Jesus bids us consider a very important principle, namely that we are never to take people's own estimate of their virtue at face value. When "two men went up into the temple to pray," one of them proclaimed his righteousness and the other his sinful condition; as it turned out, the true labels were reversed (Luke 18:10–14). This is important, because throughout the Book of Mormon the king-men routinely described themselves as the champions of freedom. Right at the outset, Laman falsely accused Nephi of being a king-man: "He has thought to make himself a king and a ruler over us, that he may do with us according to his will and pleasure. And after this manner did my brother Laman stir up their hearts to anger" (1 Nephi 16:38). Of course it was Laman himself who was aspiring to be top dog (1 Nephi 17:44), while he put himself forward as the champion of freedom. Giddianhi was one of the most rabid of king-men, "the leader and the governor of this band of robbers" aspiring to take over the government (3 Nephi 3:1). He wrote a most high-flown and idealistic letter to Lachoneus, the real governor, praising his dedication to "that which ye suppose to be your right and liberty," and insisting that his own followers were the real freedom-fighters with "their unconquerable spirit" and determination to right "the many wrongs which ye have done unto them" (3 Nephi 3:2–4). But magnanimously "feeling for your welfare" (3 Nephi 3:5), he urges them to "become our brethren . . . not our slaves, but our brethren and partners of all our substance" (3 Nephi 3:7)—a blow for freedom. He invites them to join his dignified and venerable society—"The works thereof I know to be good; and they are of ancient date, . . . handed down unto us" (3 Nephi 3:9). He pleads for avoidance of bloodshed by returning to his people "their rights and government" which they had lost through the Nephites' "wickedness in retaining from them their rights of government" (3 Nephi 3:10). Lachoneus the governor was astonished at the sheer effrontery of the thing (3 Nephi 3:11), in which the modern reader cannot help but detect familiar echoes of "liberationist" terror groups throughout the world: the king-men have always made a big thing of sounding like freemen. One of the cleverest such twisters was Korihor.

Q. Who was he?

A. Korihor was another ambitious man who rallied people of property to free themselves from the oppressive restraints of sacral government and the "foolish ordinances and performances" by which "this people bind themselves . . . that they may not lift up their heads" (Alma 30:23). He said that thanks to the government, people "durst not enjoy their rights and privileges"; in particular, "they durst not make use of that which is their own, lest they should offend their priests" (Alma 30:27–28). His appeal was for freedom from restraints laid down by ancient priests (Alma 30:23), freedom to do business without interference from church or state, freedom to follow the natural order in which every man prospered according to his genius, and "every man conquered according to his strength." Korihor also preached that "whatsoever a man did was no crime" (Alma 30:17).

Q. What was Alma's answer to that?

A. He showed that Korihor was deliberately misinterpreting everything, being "possessed with a lying spirit" (Alma 30:42). He answered him patiently, point by point, but it was his exemplary restraint that gave Korihor the lie.

Q. How so?

A. Alma showed Korihor what real freedom was, putting him under no restraint whatsoever, though he openly defied the highest authorities. Korihor was perfectly free to teach the people anything he chose, for "there was no law against a man's belief; for it was strictly contrary to the commands of God that there should be a law which should bring men on to unequal grounds" (Alma 30:7). "Now if a man desired to serve God, it was his privilege, . . . but if he did not believe in him there was no law to punish him" (Alma 30:9) or to put him at a disadvantage, for the idea was that "all men were on equal grounds" (Alma 30:11).

Q. Do you mean that Alma, the high priest and chief judge of the land, actually permitted people to preach atheism?

A. When Alma's own son went around the country with King Mosiah's sons preaching publicly against everything their fathers stood for, those two powerful men took no action against them (Mosiah 27:8–10). It took an angel to stop the young smart-alecks, and even he made it perfectly clear that God would not revoke the agency of those who opposed his purposes: "This is my church, . . . and nothing shall overthrow it, save it is the transgression of my people" (Mosiah 27:13). God guarantees the integrity of his church against all external enemies, but he will not deny the members the right to transgress and destroy it. So with Korihor: Alma the chief judge, whose determination equaled that of Moroni to pull down the pride and the nobility of the king-men (Alma 4:19), passed no sentence against him (Alma 30:30–55).

Q. What happened to Korihor?

A. Poetic justice caught up with him. Uncomfortable among the Nephites, he sought out a community of certain dissenters who were as proud and independent as himself, people who had separated themselves from the Nephites and called themselves Zoramites after their leader. There, Korihor was killed by a mob (Alma 30:59). These Zoramites are a perfect example of a phenomenon to which American archaeologists are calling attention, since they seem to represent one of those "incursions by small expansionist 'elite' groups" into areas where they imposed "political control and their own religious cults" on the less militant inhabitants; the conquered peoples thereafter "maintained the elite and constructed the great ceremonial centers under their direction." So we find the common people complaining to Alma the missionary: "They have cast us out of our synagogues which we have labored abundantly to build with our own hands" (Alma 32:5). Although we cannot pursue this striking piece of evidence here, we should not ignore the principal message of the Zoramites to us.

Q. What is that?

A. The deceitfulness of the self-image. This is perfectly understandable, since people have to live with themselves, but also quite dangerous, since it easily covers a multitude of sins. Thus the people of Zarahemla angrily rebuffed calls to repentance by Samuel the Lamanite. They insist on being told not what is wrong with Zarahemla—for that "ye . . . cast him out and seek all manner of ways to destroy him; . . . ye say that he is a false prophet . . . of the devil," and so on (Helaman 13:26). They only want to hear what is right with Zarahemla, for which "ye will lift him up, . . . give unto him of your substance, . . . of your gold and of your silver, and ye will clothe him with costly apparel" (Helaman 13:28). This is, incidentally, exactly how prophets were treated in Ancient America, where the Chilans (prophets) "were held in such high esteem that they were carried on men's shoulders when they went abroad"—lifted up. Another bull's-eye for the Book of Mormon.

Now these Zoramites had their virtues as well as their vices, as every society does if it is to survive for a month or more. They were strong-minded, independent people who went off to found their own nation and in so doing showed themselves exceedingly enterprising and industrious. A disciplined people, they turned out the ablest military officers that Moroni ever had to contend with (Alma 43:6, 44; 48:5). Enjoying great prosperity, they were strict in their religious observances, giving fulsome thanks to God for his goodness in fervid personal testimonies every week, and preserving an atmosphere of high respectability with unswerving adherence to proper dress standards (Alma 32:2).

Q. They seem the right kind of people to me.

A. They certainly thought they were, giving themselves a five-star rating in everything. And yet to Alma, who had seen as much as any man of the depravity of which men are capable, these were beyond a doubt the most wicked people he had ever come up against: "Oh Lord," he cried, "wilt thou suffer that thy servants shall dwell here below in the flesh, to behold such gross wickedness among the children of men?" (Alma 31:26).

Q. What was so wicked about them?

A. The peculiarly deadly combination of total selfishness with the assiduous cultivation of an air of saintliness was what stunned Alma, who was "astonished beyond all measure" at their performance (Alma 31:19). "Behold, O God, they cry unto thee" (Alma 31:27).

Q. What is wrong with that?

A. "And yet" is what is wrong with it, as Alma continues, "and yet their hearts are swallowed up in their pride. . . . They cry unto thee with their mouths, while they are puffed up, even to greatness, with the vain things of the world. Behold, O my God, their costly apparel . . . and all their precious things; . . . and behold, their hearts are set upon them, and yet they cry unto thee and say—We thank thee, O God, for we are a chosen people" (Alma 31:27–28). It was that combination of covetousness and self-righteousness, to which the Prophet Joseph found the people of his day also highly susceptible, that condemned the Zoramites. Who can doubt that Mormon, who saw our day in detail, had a very good reason for including the strange case of the Zoramites in his message to us? The story is equally impressive for its manifestly authentic ancient setting and its prophetic relevance to the modern situation. The Zoramites were the very type and model of the king-men.

Q. It seems to me that a little more discipline would not have harmed the sons of King Mosiah and Alma. Why didn't the King simply forbid his sons from making all that mischief?

A. Because he was Mosiah, who had given the Nephites their ideal constitution based on the old Israelite rule of judges. "Behold, it is not expedient that we should have a king; for thus saith the Lord: Ye shall not esteem one flesh above another, or one man shall not think himself above another; therefore I say unto you it is not expedient that ye should have a king" (Mosiah 23:7). Here you have in a nutshell the difference between the king-men and the freemen, and the issue is purely that of equality. Where persuasion would not work with the young men, an angel had to take over.

Q. Exactly what did Moroni want in dealing with the king-men?

A. Before all else, peace: Moroni was thus "breaking down the wars and contentions among his own people" (Alma 51:22). The nation desperately needed peace—that is why he fairly exploded when he learned that Amalickiah was stirring up war-fever at home and abroad (Alma 46:11–35). Personally his grand passion was for equality—a positive mania with him—without which, according to the Book of Mormon, there can be no freedom.

Q. But if ever there was an un-average man, it was Moroni!

A. Yes, Mormon comments on that—for him Moroni was a sort of superman (Alma 48:16–17). But Moroni was wholly dedicated to defending that constitution which Mosiah had given the nation when he laid down the kingship, in which the sum of wisdom was equality, as set forth in the great speech of his father King Benjamin at a former abdication: "And I . . . am no better than ye yourselves are; for I am also of the dust" (Mosiah 2:26). Mosiah reiterated the theme in his own farewell address: "For thus saith the Lord: Ye shall not esteem one flesh above another, or one man shall not think himself above another" (Mosiah 23:7). "I desire that this inequality should be no more in this land; . . . but I desire that this land be a land of liberty, and every man may enjoy his rights and privileges alike" (Mosiah 29:32). He tells us what kind of equality is indispensable if a people are to enjoy liberty, namely "that every man should have an equal chance throughout all the land . . . to answer for his own sins" (Mosiah 29:38).

Q. What's to prevent any man from answering for his own sins?

A. Inequality or being in bondage to another, so that he is not free to arrange his own actions. We might get into all sorts of fine distinctions here, but fortunately the Book of Mormon is full and explicit on the subject, allowing a generous sampling of relevant and enlightening passages. Right at the beginning, Nephi, following Isaiah, singles out the greatest enemy of equality: "For because they are rich they despise the poor; . . . their hearts are upon their treasures; wherefore, their treasure is their god" (2 Nephi 9:30). The "economy" is the culprit, "and they that are rich, . . . puffed up because of their learning, and their wisdom, and their riches—yea, they are they whom he [God] despiseth" (2 Nephi 9:42). This is the only time we ever read of God despising anything—not his creatures but their base, self-imposed condition. Next Jacob, the brother of Nephi, puts his finger on the spot: "You have obtained many riches; and because some of you have obtained more abundantly than that of your brethren, . . . ye suppose that ye are better than they. . . . God . . . condemneth you, and if ye persist in these things his judgments must speedily come unto you. . . . O that he would rid you from this iniquity and abomination" (Jacob 2:13–16). The danger does not lie in riches as such, which Jacob points out. Nothing would please him better than to have everybody rich: "Think of your brethren like unto yourselves, and be familiar with all and free with your substance, that they may be rich like unto you" (Jacob 2:17). But in the unequal distribution, which is an abomination to God, Jacob says, "Do ye not suppose that such things are abominable to him who created all flesh? And the one being is as precious in his sight as the other" (Jacob 2:21). King Benjamin recognizes the same perennial threat to freedom in the processes of acquisition: "I . . . have not sought gold nor silver nor any manner of riches of you; neither have I suffered . . . that ye should make slaves one of another, . . . and . . . I, myself have labored with mine own hands that I might serve you" (Mosiah 2:12–14). "For, behold, are we not all beggars? Do we not all depend upon the same Being . . . for all the riches which we have of every kind?" (Mosiah 4:19). When Alma organized his model church, the members "were all equal, and they did all labor, . . . and they did impart of their substance, every man according to that which he had" (Alma 1:26–27). As a result, because of "the steadiness of the church they began to be exceedingly rich, having abundance of all things" (Alma 1:29).

Q. That sounds good to me.

A. So mark well what happened soon. These same good people "because of their exceeding riches . . . which they had obtained by their industry [Note that—they worked for it!] . . . were . . . lifted up in the pride of their eyes" (Alma 4:6). "The people of the church began . . . to set their hearts upon riches, . . . that they began to be scornful, one towards another" (Alma 4:8). The result was great inequality among the people (Alma 4:15). "Will ye still persist," Alma said to the people, "in the wearing of costly apparel and in setting your hearts upon . . . your riches? Yea, will ye persist in supposing that ye are better one than another?" (Alma 5:53–54). This state of things inevitably led to social and economic collapse.

Q. How?

A. Through the operation of what we may call Samuel's Law. The Prophet Samuel the Lamanite sets forth the interesting rule that when "the Economy" becomes the main and engrossing concern of a society—or in the routine Book of Mormon phrase, when "they begin to set their hearts upon their riches"—the economy will self-destruct. This is how he puts it: "Ye do always remember your riches; . . . your hearts are not drawn out unto the Lord, but they do swell with great pride, . . . envyings, strifes, malice, persecutions and murders, and all manner of iniquities" (Helaman 13:22). Note well the sequence of folly: first we are well pleased with ourselves because of our wealth, then comes the game of status and prestige, leading to competitive maneuvers, hatred, and dirty tricks, and finally the ultimate solution. Where wealth guarantees respectability, principles melt away as the criminal element rises to the top: "For this cause hath the Lord God caused that a curse should come upon the land, and also upon your riches" (Helaman 13:23). "And behold, the time cometh that he curseth your riches, that they become slippery, that ye cannot hold them; and in the days of your poverty ye cannot retain them" (Helaman 13:31). "And then shall ye lament and say, . . . our riches . . . have become slippery that we should lose them; for behold, our riches are gone from us. Behold, we lay a tool here and on the morrow it is gone" (Helaman 13:32–34). "Yea, we have hid up our treasures and they have slipped away from us, because of the curse of the land, . . . for behold the land is cursed, and all things are become slippery and we cannot hold them. Behold, we are surrounded by demons" (Helaman 13:35–37). It ends in utter frustration and total insecurity as morals and the market collapse together and the baffled experts surrender. It happened also in Alma's day, when he attributed the "wars and contentions among the Nephites" (Alma 28:9) to the same human weakness: "And thus we see how great the inequality of man is because of sin and transgression" (Alma 28:13). This was at the very time that Korihor emerged with a fervid dialectic giving philosophical sanction to that inequality, as "every man fared in this life according to the management of the creature," and so on (Alma 30:17).

Q. How long does the problem persist in the Book of Mormon?

A. Right to the end. Many years after Alma, a righteous people were again "lifted up unto pride and boastings because of their exceedingly great riches" (3 Nephi 6:10). Careerism became the order of the day in a business-society of "many merchants . . . and also many lawyers, and many officers. And the people began to be distinguished by ranks, according to their riches and their chances for learning" (3 Nephi 6:11–12). "And thus there became a great inequality in all the land, insomuch that the church began to be broken up" (3 Nephi 6:14). Then came great natural calamities, after which the church was established again by the Lord himself, and the "people were all converted unto the Lord, . . . and they had all things common among them; therefore there were not rich and poor, bond and free, but they were all made free" (4 Nephi 1:2–3). And there we see what it means to be true freemen, but as long as Satan is permitted to try men and to tempt them by the gold and silver and treasures of the earth, we can expect a counterattack. In time the ideal society established by the Lord was broken up, as "there began to be among them those who were lifted up in pride, such as the wearing of costly apparel. . . . And from that time forth they did have their goods and their substance no more common among them" (4 Nephi 1:24–25).

Q. Shouldn't we change the subject and get back to Moroni?

A. Moroni is still the subject—he was the greatest champion of equality of them all. He had been elected to defend his people, "and thus he was preparing to support their liberty . . . and their peace. . . . Moroni . . . did not delight in bloodshed; [he was] a man whose soul did joy in the liberty and the freedom of his country" (Alma 48:10–11). For him peace and freedom were as inseparable from each other as both were from equality. So "Moroni commanded that his army should go against those king-men, to pull down their pride and their nobility and level them with the earth. . . . And . . . the armies did march forth against them; and they did pull down their pride and their nobility" (Alma 51:17–18). "And thus Moroni put an end to those king-men, that there were not any known by the appellation of king-men; and thus he put an end to the stubbornness and the pride of those people who professed the blood of nobility; but they were brought down to humble themselves like unto their brethren" (Alma 51:21).

Q. There seems to be a note of gloating there?

A. There is no doubt that the king-men had made a horrible nuisance of themselves. But the final settlement left them no worse off than anybody else—no hint of punishment or reprisal. Moroni is quite impartial; when he suspects his own superiors of arrogance in government he writes to them: "I will stir up insurrections among you, even until those who have desires to usurp power and authority shall become extinct. Yea, behold I do not fear your power nor your authority, but it is my God whom I fear" (Alma 60:27–28). "Behold, I am Moroni, your chief captain. I seek not for power, but to pull it down. I seek not for honor of the world but for the glory of my God" (Alma 60:36).

"While Amalickiah had thus been obtaining power by fraud and deceit, Moroni, on the other hand, had been preparing the minds of the people to be faithful unto the Lord their God" (Alma 48:7). For him, in the end, faithfulness was the only guarantee of true security. Mormon tells us that Moroni "was a man like unto Ammon . . . and also Alma" (Alma 48:18). Alma, it will be recalled, after ably functioning as commander of the armies, high priest of the church, and chief judge of the land, laid down all his high offices to go out and try to save things by "bearing down in pure testimony" among a stiffnecked people (Alma 4:19). They gave him a bad time when he came before them without any official clout, but he knew that the gospel was the only solution. Ammon, the mightiest fighting man in the Book of Mormon, laid aside his invincible sword to go tracting from door to door among a bloody-minded enemy nation. His friends and fellow church members laughed at the deed:

"Do [you] suppose that [you] can bring the Lamanites to the knowledge of the truth, . . . as stiffnecked a people as they are; whose hearts delight in the shedding of bloodshed; whose days have been spent in the grossest iniquity; whose ways have been the ways of a transgressor from the beginning?" (Alma 26:24). That is how they made fun of Ammon's insane proposal. There is only one way to deal with these people, they said—only one language they understand: "Let us take up arms against them, that we destroy them and their iniquity out of the land, lest they overrun us and destroy us" (Alma 26:25). Kill or be killed—the basic creed of the military to this day. "Now my brethren, ye remember that this was their language," says Ammon, recalling it (Alma 26:24). But what did Ammon do, the most terrible fighter of them all? With his companions, "patient in our sufferings, . . . we have traveled from house to house," teaching anyone who would listen, "and we have been cast out, and mocked, and spit upon, and smote upon our cheeks" (Alma 26:28–29).

Q. Didn't Moroni let people laugh at him, and slap his face, and spit on him?

A. He tells us why: "And we have suffered . . . all this, that perhaps we might be the means of saving some soul; and we supposed that our joy would be full if perhaps we could be the means of saving some" (Alma 26:30). He knew that the harder way of winning over an enemy was the better way, and all his converts underwent a most marvelous change of heart: "Now there was not one soul among all the people who had been converted unto the Lord that would take up arms against their brethren; nay, they would not even make any preparations for war; yea, and also their king commanded them that they should not" (Alma 24:6). No less than eight times do they refer to their former deeds of arms as acts of murder for which they are deeply contrite (Alma 24:9–25). They were complete pacifists, and Moroni gave them his unqualified support along with Helaman, another great commander, who labored successfully to dissuade the Ammonites from taking up arms even to come to the aid of his own sorely pressed troops in a desperate military crisis (Alma 53:14). As a result of that, many Lamanites surrendered and were sent by Moroni and Helaman to "dwell with the people of Ammon" (Alma 62:17). These repentant Lamanites were "desirous to join the people of Ammon and become a free people" (Alma 62:27).

Q. Strange that those pacifists should be singled out as a free people.

A. Who is free to do as he will in a state of war? Once the shooting starts the options vanish. That is why people rush into war—because they think it will put an end to their problems.

Q. But hold on! What about all those men who were put to death for not joining Moroni's army?

A. They have been represented as conscientious objectors and pacifists, but they were the exact opposite. Note that Moroni specifies that he sheds the blood of his Nephite brethren only when they take the sword against him (Alma 61:11). He explains the situation: "Were it not for these king-men, who caused so much bloodshed among ourselves; . . . had they been true to the cause of our freedom, and united with us, and gone forth against our enemies, instead of taking up their swords against us, which was the cause of so much bloodshed among ourselves; . . . we should have dispersed our enemies" (Alma 60:16). These were no pacifists or foot-dragging Nephites, but a paramilitary combine out to use force to gain political ends. They were Amalickiahites, both stirring up war with the Lamanites and planning to shed the blood of the opposition at home: "And . . . whomsoever of the Amalickiahites that would not enter into a covenant to support the cause of freedom, . . . [Moroni] caused to be put to death, . . . and there were but few" (Alma 46:35). The Amalickiahites had welcomed the approaching Lamanites, glad in their hearts that the government was in trouble, and though Moroni reasoned with them and appealed to their sense of gratitude and fair play, they would not budge from their hostile position: "When Moroni saw . . . that the Lamanites were coming into the borders of the land, he was exceedingly wroth because of the stubbornness of those people whom he had labored with so much diligence to preserve" (Alma 51:14). Even so, the Amalickiahites were not taken from their homes or cut down in the streets, but all met their fate on the battlefield in the very act of laying about them with their swords—they were fairly beaten in an open fight which they invited. "The armies did march forth against them; and they did pull down their pride and their nobility, insomuch that as they did lift their weapons of war to fight against the men of Moroni, they were hewn down and leveled to the earth" (Alma 51:18). The victims were not helpless prisoners but armed warriors on the field of battle.

Q. But were not those cut down who refused to take up arms in defense of their country?

A. Cut down, but only on the battlefield during the battle: "Those of their leaders who were not slain in battle were taken and cast into prison, for there was no time for their trials at this period" (Alma 51:19). Those not slain in battle had also refused to take up arms in defense of their country, yet they were not put to death even when taken with arms in their hands, but were remanded for trial.

Q. How did the trial go?

A. They were all released when they surrendered rather than be smitten down by the sword. They were not even executed for treason, but were only required henceforth to "fight valiantly for their freedom from bondage" (Alma 51:21), which I think they willingly did in the face of what followed.

Q. What was that?

A. The sight of Amalickiah, the king-men's idea of a Nephite patriot, leading a Lamanite army against the Nephites. When they saw him in his true colors after having won them over "by fraud and deceit" they were willing enough to switch to the faithful Moroni. Four years later, under a new leader of the king-men, the problem of disaffected Nephites came up again, with this solution: "Those men of Pachus [the new leader] and those king-men whosoever would not take up arms in defense of their country, but would fight against it, were put to death," this time after being captured and tried (Alma 62:9). They had actually joined the Lamanites in the attack, which indeed they had arranged; yet even so they were given a chance to change their minds, and only those were put to death who stubbornly insisted on "denying their freedom" (Alma 62:10). They are all warriors—anything but pacifists or conscientious objectors. There are indeed some very conspicuous pacifists and war-objectors in the Book of Mormon besides Ammon and his people, and interestingly enough they include some of the most valiant warriors and seasoned fighters, but we cannot go into their stories here. We are concerned only with king-men and freemen.

Q. Did the Pachus episode put an end to the king-men?

A. Far from it. Though we never hear of the freemen by that name again, the king-men persevere right to the end. They were able to become so numerous in Zarahemla during the war that the governor Pahoran had to flee for his life (Alma 61:3–5); but the people flocked to him in exile as they had flocked to Moroni's banner, and the two leaders were able to join forces and bring the war to a successful conclusion (Alma 62:7–8). Then Moroni went into permanent retirement—free of ambition to the end (Alma 62:43–44). But the king-men were not finished.

Q. What next?

A. They went underground—standard procedure when they are beaten—and made themselves indistinguishable from the general public as they bided their time and carried the secret plans and programs that such people love (Helaman 1:12). Their leader, Kishkumen, sought out the services of a professional hit man by the name of Gadianton, a talented killer, "exceedingly expert . . . in his craft" (Helaman 2:3–4), who could be trusted to carry out the secret work of murder and robbing in a business-like and professional manner. He worked out a plan which he guaranteed would put Kishkumen and his gang in complete control of the government. All they had to do was murder the chief judge Helaman, as they had already murdered his predecessor Pahoran II, and make Gadianton himself judge—he would take care of the rest (Helaman 2:4–5). The plan miscarried and the villains had to skip town, and yet before many years "this Gadianton did prove the overthrow, yea, almost the entire destruction of the people of Nephi" (Helaman 2:13).

Q. How was that possible?

A. By broadening his operation. The cloak-and-dagger stuff was all very well, but big money has to be respectable money from a visible source. Gadianton's new plan was to bring the public into his operation in a big way, allowing anyone to buy in, so that they "seduced the more part of the righteous," who, seeing how the business prospered, "had come down to believe in their works and partake of their spoils" (Helaman 6:38). Public opinion was so much on their side that "the Nephites did build them up and support them, beginning at the more wicked part of them." Gadianton's band grew ever more respectable "until they had overspread all the land" (Helaman 6:38).

Q. But how could the Nephites be so crude or so naive as to invest in a corporation whose business was robbery?

A. That was the clever part of the plan. As the Nephites "did turn unto their own ways, and did build up unto themselves idols of their gold and their silver" (Helaman 6:31), it was easy for the society to swing elections in its favor and to put its people in complete control of the law-courts: from then on they could make whatever they chose to do perfectly legal. Speaking of the days of Moroni, Mormon observes that it was the lawyers and judges who started laying the foundation of the "destruction of this people" (Alma 10:27). So with the public in a state of awful wickedness and the combine in control of the nation's wealth, in the "space of not many years" (Helaman 6:32) there was little opposition when those Gadianton robbers filling the judgment seats established their kind of justice. They did whatever they pleased under color of legality, "condemning the righteous because of their righteousness; letting the guilty and the wicked go unpunished because of their money. . . . [They were] held in office at the head of government, to rule and do according to their wills"—after all, they were the government—"that they might get gain and glory of the world" (Helaman 7:5). This was no undercover operation, but government heavy with the symbols of power and majesty. Ironically, at this very time the Gadianton robbers were hunted down and "utterly destroyed from among the Lamanites" (Helaman 6:37).

Q. Good police work?

A. Of the right kind. They borrowed a page from Ammon and sent out missionaries everywhere to "preach the word of God among the more wicked part of them," and that did it—they gave up the whole evil business (Helaman 6:37).

Q. That sounds unrealistic.

A. As indeed it is, to those who do not know the power of the gospel. But Alma had used the same method to pull down "the pride and craftiness . . . which were among his people" years before (Alma 4:19). That is, instead of marching forth with an army or a posse, though he was at that time the commander-in-chief (Alma 4:16), Alma armed himself with no other weapon than the word of God, "seeing no way that he might reclaim them save it were in bearing down in pure testimony against them" (Alma 4:19). But it worked—we make a tragic mistake in underestimating the power of the gospel to change men's lives if only it is brought to them. Also we are prone to look to force for solutions, though the final word and summing-up of the last great commander in the Book of Mormon is: "Therefore, he that smiteth shall be smitten again, of the Lord. Behold what the scripture says—man shall not smite, neither shall he judge" (Mormon 8:19–20). The Lamanites got rid of the Gadiantons, but not the Nephites.

Q. Who was left for them to loot if everybody belonged?

A. There were levels of control and profit-taking, as in a modern franchise set-up; at the heart of everything was the original band of charter members, a sort of central committee, whose meetings and manipulations were top-secret (Helaman 6:22–24). But there is no love lost among criminals, "the devil will not support his children at the last day," says Mormon, "but doth speedily drag them down to hell" (Alma 30:60). Inevitably interests and ambitions conflict, and so with criminal interests fighting each other "there were wars throughout all the land among the people of Nephi. And it was this secret band of robbers who did carry on this work of destruction and wickedness" (Helaman 11:1–2).

Q. Why weren't the Nephites destroyed at that time?

A. The intervention of the prophet Nephi saved them when he deliberately asked God to wipe out the economy completely. Nephi prayed for a super-depression: "O Lord, do not suffer that this people shall be destroyed by the sword; but O Lord, rather let there be a famine . . . to stir them up in remembrance" (Helaman 11:4). The famine was horrendous and put a stop to everything, so finally the people were willing to give up their stocks and bonds and settle for just their lives. When "the people saw that they were about to perish by famine" (Helaman 11:7), they appealed to Nephi, who prayed: "O Lord, wilt thou turn away thine anger, and try again if they will serve thee?" (Helaman 11:16). So they were given another chance and the robbers went, literally, underground: "The band of Gadianton . . . have become extinct, and they [the repentant people] have concealed their secret plans in the earth" (Helaman 11:10). That concealing in the earth is a very important part of the story. The mischief is not finished off—it only sleeps. Since it is Satan's prerogative to try men and to tempt them with the treasures of the earth, the means of doing so will always be within his reach. Accordingly, only four years after the great famine we find a "certain number of dissenters from the people of Nephi" who had permanently joined the Lamanites some years before, bent on stirring up another war (Helaman 11:24). Their motive was robbery.

Q. Hadn't they learned their lesson?

A. They thought they had, for this time they were resorting to a wholly new strategy—terrorism: "They did commit murder and plunder; and then they would retreat back into the mountains, and into . . . secret places, hiding themselves that they could not be discovered, receiving daily an addition to their numbers" (Helaman 11:25). Their appeal was mostly to the young, who found it exciting (3 Nephi 1:29–30). Their unrelenting campaign of terrorism "did make great havoc . . . among the people of Nephi" (Helaman 11:27). Armies were sent against them, but to no avail—it was not that kind of war; the terrorists were winning (Helaman 11:28–33). But this had one good result—it kept the rest of the people from slipping back into their old ways: "Now this great evil, which came unto the people because of their iniquity, did stir them up again in remembrance of the Lord their God" (Helaman 11:34). But here we have another demonstration of the folly of labelling good guys and bad guys, for only three years later "they [the Nephites] began to wax strong in iniquity" (Helaman 11:36), and this time "they did not mend their ways" (Helaman 11:36). So for another two years "they did wax stronger and stronger in their pride, and in their wickedness; and thus they were ripening again for destruction" (Helaman 11:37). Nephi the prophet did his best, but got little support. As usual, it was the king-men who ended up in the saddle, led by a man called Jacob. Under this renewed pressure the central government finally collapsed and the people followed their local tribal leaders and traditions, "and thus they did destroy the government of the land" (3 Nephi 7:2). The "secret combination" had engineered the whole thing (3 Nephi 7:9) by stirring up contention everywhere (3 Nephi 7:7), and taking advantage of a climate in which the people "did yield themselves unto the power of Satan" (3 Nephi 7:5), since even "the more righteous part of the people had nearly all become wicked" (3 Nephi 7:7). The secret organization put their man Jacob on the throne (3 Nephi 7:9), but then the rest of the populace, "notwithstanding they were not a righteous people, yet they were united in the hatred of those who had entered into a covenant to destroy the government" (3 Nephi 7:11). Having finally gotten rid of their favorite target, the central government, the people immediately regretted its loss and turned with fury on those whom they held responsible for terminating it.

Q. By now the story is getting a bit monotonous.

A. Yes, and it is the same monotonous scenario that tells us of decline and fall in other times and places, including the days that lie ahead of us—for the story has been preserved and published for our benefit.

Q. But don't the recurrent transitions from Good People to Bad People and back again take place awfully fast?

A. The Book of Mormon writers themselves often marvel at the speed with which the picture changes. In the instance last cited, the writer notes, "And thus six years had not passed away since the more part of the people had turned from their righteousness" (3 Nephi 7:8). And yet if we examine our own experience and history, people do post with such dexterity from one extreme to the other—where wealth is concerned, that is; and in the Book of Mormon, money is the key to the situation. "Now the cause of this iniquity . . . was this," Mormon observes; "Satan had great power, unto the stirring up of the people to do all manner of iniquity, and to the puffing them up with pride, tempting them to seek for power, and authority, and riches, and the vain things of the world" (3 Nephi 6:15). Need we remind you that "power, authority, and riches" are what the king-men are always after, and what Moroni and his freemen were determined to "pull down"? Mormon's remark was by way of explaining why the nation had declined so quickly, why they "had enjoyed peace but a few years" (3 Nephi 6:16). Money gets quick results, and the effects of newly acquired riches are almost instantaneous. At once the happy recipient of a big promotion is expected to change his lifestyle, move to a better part of town, join different clubs, send his children to different schools, even change his church affiliation for a more fashionable one, or drop an intended bride for one more acceptable to the president's wife and her exalted circle. The instant pride of the foolish milkmaid in the prospects of a new affluence was the same ambition that made a monster of the noble and generous Macbeth overnight. History, literature, and folklore are full of the Fatal Gold—the deadly Rings, the Dragon's Treasure, the Golden Fleece, etc.—that brings quick and inevitable destruction on those that seek and find it. No, my friends, the Book of Mormon does not exaggerate either the relentless efficiency or the speed with which wealth corrupts all those who "set their hearts upon riches and the things of the world."

Q. But just how far can we go in applying the story to ourselves?

A. Why do you think the book was given to us? Angels do not come on trivial errands, to deliver books for occasional light reading to people whom they do not really concern. The matter in the Book of Mormon was selected, as we are often reminded, with scrupulous care and with particular readers in mind. For some reason there has been chosen for our attention a story of how and why two previous civilizations on this continent were utterly destroyed. Lest the modern reader of this sad and disturbing tale from the dust choose to pass lightly over those fearful passages that come too close to home, the main theme is repeated again and again, so that almost any Latter-day Saint child can tell you what it is: The people were good so God made them prosperous, and when they were bad, they got wiped out. What few people can tell you are the steps by which the fatal declension took place, without which the story is juvenile and naive.

Q. Can you sum up the steps? I take it they are more or less what you have been talking about.

A. In their prosperity the people "begin to set their hearts on riches," an oft-repeated formula which rings like the stroke of doom. It reminds one of the four steps in Greek tragedy, each leading inexorably to the next—olbia, koros, hybris, and ate—there, too, power and gain is the theme. With wealth the measure of all things, a class-conscious and covetous society ends up under the domination of powerful combinations, leading to internal rivalries and international intrigue that inevitably lead to armed conflict. A war of extermination results from the willful polarization between equally guilty nations, each justifiably feeling threatened by the other, and each determined to see the sole source of its troubles in the wickedness of the other. The wars solve nothing, even for the winners.

Q. I can see endless debate growing out of those propositions.

A. Fortunately we are not obliged to speculate on the purpose of the Book of Mormon in telling us all this, for its authors and editors have addressed themselves specifically to our generation on the point. Hear the moving appeal of Mormon: "And then, O ye Gentiles, how can ye stand before the power of God, except ye shall repent and turn from your evil ways?" (Mormon 5:22). "[God] hath made manifest unto you our imperfections, that ye may learn to be more wise than we have been" (Mormon 9:31). "There shall be great pollutions upon the face of the earth [the expression definitely implies ecology]; there shall be murders, and robbing, and lying, and deceivings, and whoredoms. . . . Many . . . will say, Do this, or do that, and it mattereth not, . . . but wo unto such[!]" (Mormon 8:31). "Behold, I speak unto you as if ye were present, and yet ye are not. . . . But . . . Jesus Christ hath shown you unto me, and I know your doing. And I know that ye do walk in the pride of your hearts . . . unto the wearing of very fine apparel, unto envying, and strifes, and malice, and persecutions. . . . For behold, ye do love money, and your substance, and your fine apparel, and the adorning of your churches, more than ye love the poor and the needy, the sick and the afflicted. O ye pollutions, ye hypocrites, ye teachers, who sell yourselves for that which will canker, why have ye polluted the holy church of God? . . . Why do ye adorn yourselves with that which hath no life, and yet suffer the hungry, and the needy, and the naked, and the sick and the afflicted to pass by you, and notice them not? Yea, why do ye build up your secret abominations to get gain, and cause that widows should mourn before the Lord, and also orphans, . . . and also the blood of their fathers and their husbands to cry unto the Lord from the ground, for vengeance upon your heads? Behold, the sword of vengeance hangeth over you; and the time soon cometh" (Mormon 8:35–41). I used to think that those words about blood crying from the ground were possibly a bit overdrawn—but not after seeing what is going on throughout the world today!

Q. How do you know that these things apply to our particular generation?

A. Mormon's son, Moroni, tells us that the teachings of the book will apply to that generation that recognizes the symptoms: the shoe will belong to the one it fits. Up until now the Book of Mormon has been for the Mormons themselves a romantic tale of the far-away and long-ago, as strange as the Arabian Nights—such things just do not happen in the real world! But now: "O ye Gentiles, it is wisdom in God that these things should be shown unto you, that thereby ye may repent of your sins, and suffer not that these murderous combinations shall get above you, which are built up to get power and gain—and the work, yea, even the work of destruction come upon you, yea, even the sword of the justice of the Eternal God shall fall upon you, to your overthrow and destruction if ye shall suffer these things to be. Wherefore, the Lord commandeth you, when ye shall see these things come among you that ye shall awake to a sense of your awful situation, because of this secret combination which shall be among you; or wo be unto it, because of the blood of them who have been slain" (Ether 8:23–24).

Q. But what can anyone do about combinations as secret and as powerful as those mentioned? Who can oppose them?

A. First of all, we are told, we can cease to build them up, for "whoso buildeth it up seeketh to overthrow the freedom of all lands, . . . and it bringeth to pass the destruction of all people" (Ether 8:25).

Q. How can you build up a combination if you don't know where it is or even what it is?

A. You can do that by playing the game its way. Once you have been warned, as we have been here, that things are being run by such elements, then you know very well that if you aspire to power and gain, influence, status, and prestige; in other words, if you aspire to success by present-day standards, you can only achieve it by doing everything their way. One ceases to uphold those elements only by rejecting a whole way of life, regardless of the risk or inconvenience involved.

Q. So you don't uphold them; but they are still there. How can you get at them?

A. As Alma and Ammon did in their day. They went forth "bearing down in pure testimony" to whoever would hear them, suffering the worst the opposition had to offer, "not with the intent to destroy our brethren [who were very wicked and depraved, you will recall], but with the intent that perhaps we might save some few of their souls" (Alma 26:26). Admittedly it was a risky and dangerous business, but it was all they could do. We are not called upon to seize and occupy enemy territory, for the evil we are combatting is everywhere (D&C 1), and the only place we can confront it and overcome it is in our own hearts. I cannot make a bad person good by pulling a trigger, yet conversion of sinners to saints is exactly what the Lord requires: to persuade the children of men to do good continually, so that Satan may have no more power over their hearts (Ether 8:26). If men are to overcome Satan in this world, they must be alive to do it—shooting them solves nothing.

Q. But we must overcome the hosts of evil.

A. Where are they? "This is my doctrine, . . . that the Father commandeth all men, everywhere, to repent" (3 Nephi 11:32). Will you ask God which people you are to love and which you are to hate? Which to deal fairly with and which to cheat? Which to speak the truth to and which to lie to? Which to be kind to and which to be cruel to? The word of God answers all such questions with the greatest clarity; we have only one game-plan, and that is the call to faith, repentance, and charity with which Moroni sums up the Book of Mormon.

Q. You mean we should treat freemen and king-men alike?

A. Of course. In our society, who is going to call himself a king-man or not call himself a freeman? To lay official claim to the title is as fatuous as forming a club called "The Great Men" in the expectation of being accepted as such. It is the title in its Book of Mormon context that has concerned us here, and though the definition has taken us on a longer journey than we expected, we have not been wandering, for the ways of the king-men must also be understood if we are to understand the freemen.

Q. How, then, would you define the freemen in the Book of Mormon?

A. The freemen are the Nephites who supported Moroni in his opposition to a dangerous coalition led by Amalickiah. The king-men's combination consisted of rich Nephites who were outraged by what they considered interference by "Helaman and his brethren" in their private affairs. Other king-men included monarchists, influential and intriguing families, a self-styled aristocracy, social climbers "lifted up in their hearts" by their new wealth (Alma 45:24), haughty and aspiring judges, power-hungry local officials—including "almost all the lawyers and the high priests"—men taking advantage of church positions (3 Nephi 6:27), and many ordinary church members beguiled by the powerful and impressive rhetoric of Amalickiah. Only one comprehensive label fits that combination.

Q. And you would call the freemen Left Wing?

A. Not at all. For them there were no wings—equality was their watchword, and their torn, trampled garments and tattered "title of liberty" announced to all that they considered themselves nothing more than God's typically weak and fallible children, whom he loves all alike.

Q. Would you say that the freemen as such had no distinctive characteristics?

A. On the contrary, from our point of view they would be a great oddity. For the Book of Mormon they are just ordinary people, but their character stands out in bold relief as they are pointedly contrasted to the king-men. To wit, they were not militant; it took a great deal to stir them to action, and they made war with heavy reluctance and without rancor, always keeping the fighting to a minimum. They were peace-loving, noncompetitive, and friendly, appealing to the power of the word above that of the sword. "Taught never to give offense," and never aggressive, they were terrible indeed when the king-men pushed them too far, but quick to spare and forgive. They were not class-conscious, but prized equality among the greatest of blessings. In their personal lives they placed no great value on the accumulation of wealth and abhorred displays of status and prestige, e.g., the wearing of fashionable and expensive clothes. Eschewing ambition, they were not desirous or envious of power and authority; they recognized that they were "despised" by the more success-oriented king-men, and thought of themselves as outcasts from the ways of the world. They shunned the climate of secrecy and conspiracy in which the king-men delighted, and avoided aristocratic pretenses and aspirations as well. They sought the solution to all their problems in fervid prayer and repentance.

Q. It sounds rather boring to me—too idealistic and unrealistic.

A. Yes, that is the way it seems to us. We have disqualified ourselves for that kind of life; nothing short of a fix moves our jaded and over-stimulated appetites anymore. But may I point out to you that there are still a few societies left on earth, or there were until recently, in which the freemen's way of life survived. I am thinking of certain societies of American Indians and Pacific Islanders.

Q. Come now! They are nature-people, savages.

A. By us they are "despised," to use Moroni's expression. But what stable societies from the New England village to the ancient dwellers on the Nile have not been "nature people," gladly accepting the world that God has given them? It is only in our own day that the bulldozers, freeways, high-rises, parking prairies, shopping palaces and industrial "parks" have claimed the land in the name of great combinations dedicated to power and gain. And in that denatured and dehumanized setting, modern man finds satisfaction in watching, reading, and living out those stories of contention, violence, intrigue, duels for power, grand theft, murder, high fashion and high sex which have become the daily fare of the millions as they once were for the king-men of old. And ever and always, money is the name of the game.

But there is a ray of hope in the circumstance that the freemen and the king-men belong to the same race and culture; it is quite possible for people to move from one category to the other, as they often do in the Book of Mormon, where "one very wicked man" can get a huge following in short order, and just as quickly lose it. We are all both king-men and freemen at heart, just as we are all potential devils or gods.