It’s time, at long last, to get this discussion started. We’re tackling only the first two-and-a-half verses of text this week, but that will be enough to keep us more than busy, I think. Here is the text we’re dealing with this week, with my own punctuation (note that there are no textual variants to be bothered about in these verses):
[1] And now, Jacob, I speak unto you. Thou art my firstborn in the days of my tribulation in the wilderness, and, behold, in thy childhood thou hast suffered afflictions and much sorrow because of the rudeness of thy brethren. [2] Nevertheless Jacob, my firstborn in the wilderness, thou knowest the greatness of God, and he shall consecrate thine afflictions for thy gain. [3] Wherefore, thy soul shall be blessed, and thou shalt dwell safely with thy brother Nephi, and thy days shall be spent in the service of thy God.
The first two of our four guiding questions seem to be focused heavily on these first verses. If we’re to get a sense of the immediate setting of 2 Nephi 2, or of its reliance on other scriptural texts, it’d be best to look for answers in assessing these first verses of the chapter. Further, if we’re serious about the question of audience, as well as about how the details of Jacob’s life bear on the interpretation of 2 Nephi 2, we’ve got to keep an eye on these first verses. Also interesting to me are some details from these first verses that might help us begin to answer our third question. As I hope to show, there’s a significant question of textual structure in these first verses that should give us serious theological food for thought. Only the fourth question will have to wait for further attention.
What follows, then, comes in three parts. In the first, I’ll say a few things about how these first verses help to situate 2 Nephi 2 within scripture rather generally. In the second, I’ll see if I can’t illuminate something about audience, as well as about the interpretive relevance of Jacob’s past. In the third, finally, I’ll identify an important structure in these first verses and say a bit about what it suggests theologically.
To work, then!
Scriptural Entanglement
It seems to me that there are two distinct sorts questions to be asked about the scriptural setting of 2 Nephi 2: First, what can be learned from an analysis of the position of 2 Nephi 2 within the larger text of the Book of Mormon? Second, what can be learned by looking at scriptural echoes in and of 2 Nephi 2:1-3a? I’ll take these in turn. Also, I want to be careful not to get carried away here, so I’ll try to be brief.
Nephi’s record, on my interpretation, plays a very determinate role in the larger structure of the Book of Mormon. It introduces a covenantal theology—largely uninterested in questions of soteriology (narrowly defined)—that the Lehites for much of their history seem intentionally (even inspiredly) to have disregarded (thanks to the intervention of a certain Abinadi). It is only in Third Nephi, with the arrival in the New World of the resurrected Christ, that there is a return of sorts to the covenantal interests of Nephi’s record and an abandonment of sorts of the heavy focus on atonement that seems to have driven Lehite theological interests from King Benjamin to Samuel the Lamanite.
But, clean as I want to make this cut between two rival theological interests, it’s messy in certain ways. And one of the more important of those ways is Nephi’s inclusion in his record of a certain thread of soteriological theological speculation. Interestingly, it’s never Nephi who produces that speculation—it’s Lehi in 2 Nephi 2 and Jacob in 2 Nephi 9—but it’s nonetheless he who decided to give it a place in his otherwise entirely covenantal record. It was on this atonement theology, contained in Nephi’s book on covenant theology, that Abinadi seems to have drawn in laying the foundations of the atonement theology that saturates the books of Mosiah, Alma, and Helaman.
2 Nephi 2 thus, it seems to me, has a kind of unstable position in the Book of Mormon—along with 2 Nephi 9, Jacob’s obviously-2-Nephi-2-inspired sermon. It’s a kind of knot in the otherwise smooth grain of the record Nephi assembled. This is all the more apparent when it’s compared with the chapters immediately surrounding and obviously connected with it. The covenantal focus of 2 Nephi 1, of 2 Nephi 3, is unmistakable. We might well ask why Lehi’s words to Jacob move in this decidedly non-covenantal direction, this more personal-application-of-the-plan-of-salvation sort of direction.
I’m interested in what thoughts others may have on the uneasy place 2 Nephi 2 occupies in the Book of Mormon. For my own part, I’ll be satisfied for the moment just to have articulated its basic outlines—mostly so that I can get on to the next question.
There isn’t too much that needs to be said about echoes of biblical scripture in these first verses. There don’t, in other words, seem to be any deliberate or extended allusions or borrowings. That said, there are a few points that might be mentioned just because they help to shed some light on the text.
In verse 1, again in verse 2, and then later in the chapter in verse 11, Lehi refers to Jacob as his “firstborn” (first as his “firstborn in the days of [his] tribulation in the wilderness” and then more simply as “firstborn in the wilderness”). Although the exact phrases Lehi employs are unique to 2 Nephi 2, they might be seen as drawing on an important Old Testament tradition, where “my firstborn” appears five times and where “firstborn” appears still more often (most frequently in the Pentateuch and the Chronicles). It is, for instance, of some significance that “my firstborn” appears for the first time in the Hebrew Bible in Genesis 49:3, where Jacob is giving final blessings to his sons just before death—where, that is, he’s doing exactly what Lehi is doing in 2 Nephi 1-4.
Of course, it’s of some importance that Jacob is not actually Lehi’s firstborn, but only his firstborn in the wilderness. (It’s curious, though, that Lehi doesn’t refer to Laman as his firstborn in 2 Nephi 1, when offering final words of counsel to him. He only calls Laman his firstborn when he’s addressing Laman’s children in 2 Nephi 4.) Nonetheless, there’s something of a precedent for Lehi’s complicated use of “firstborn.” Of the five instances of “my firstborn” in the Old Testament, three are used non-literally. Exodus 4:22 thus speaks of Israel as God’s firstborn, Psalms 89:27 of God making a king into God’s firstborn, and Jeremiah 31:9 of Ephraim being Jehovah’s firstborn. In all this, we don’t exactly have an allusion or even an echo, but we do have a bit of helpful clarification.
Turning to verse 2, we might say something about the idea of afflictions being “consecrated for gain.” Outside of the Book of Mormon, consecration is attached to gain in only one passage, Micah 4:13, and that passage happens to be quoted in 3 Nephi 20:19. I think I’d like to assume some kind of connection between Lehi’s talk of consecration and Micah’s eschatological claim. But I’ll postpone discussion of this until a little later, because I’m going to address this matter of consecration at some length in the next part of my post.
Turning, then, to verse 3, there are a few brief things to say. First a point of difference from other scriptural texts. Lehi speaks early in this verse of Jacob’s soul being blessed. This is curious because, as it turns out, it is only (more or less) in the Book of Mormon that souls are blessed (see Alma 28:8; 38:15; but cf. Psalms 49:18); in the Bible, it is souls that do the blessing (see Genesis 27:4, 19, 25, 31; Psalms 103:1, 2, 22; 104:1, 35). I don’t know what’s to be learned from that point of difference, but it’s interesting—and perhaps fruitful. More obviously in line with Old Testament usage is Lehi’s talk of “dwelling safely.” There is a heavy emphasis on dwelling safely in the Hebrew tradition, always connected—as Lehi’s blessings are—to promises concerning land (see Leviticus 25:18, 19; 26:5; Deuteronomy 12:10; 33:12, 28; 1 Samuel 12:11; 1 Kings 4:25; Psalms 4:8; Proverbs 1:33; Jeremiah 23:6; 32:37; 33:16; Ezekiel 28:26; 34:25, 28; 38:8, 11, 14; 39:26). I think it’s safe to assume that Lehi is following out this tradition, though I don’t know how much light this connection sheds on anything either.
Of more importance, but not without its problems, is the way the Hebrew Bible might help to clarify the meaning of Lehi’s talk of Jacob spending his days in “the service of [his] God.” It’s possible to suggest that this phrase is a kind of abridgement (for a similar abridgement, see Ezra 6:18) of the very frequent Old Testament phrase, “the service of the house of God.” If this connection is of any worth, it would seem that Lehi is promising Jacob a certain role in the temple and the priesthood—a role he did in fact subsequently take up. The problem with such an interpretation, however, is that this phrase appears (with the exception of Numbers 16:9) exclusively in post-exilic texts (see 1 Chronicles 9:13; 23:28; 25:6; 28:20, 21; 29:7; 2 Chronicles 31:21; Ezra 7:19; Nehemiah 10:32). Although the Book of Mormon in English translation has no qualms about drawing anachronistically from King James renderings of texts that would have been written after the Nephites left Jerusalem, it’s difficult to argue that such specifically post-exilic usage can be drawn on in making inferences about the meaning of the phrase in the Book of Mormon.
In short, there seems to be little in these first verses by way of allusion to or quotation of other scripture. There is, however, good reason to look at how these first verses may have influenced subsequent Nephite scripture—or, at least, one major subsequent Nephite figure: King Benjamin.
How is a connection between these first few verses of Lehi’s words and King Benjamin’s four-centuries-later sermon suggested? First, the phrase “the greatness of God” appears in scripture only here in 2 Nephi 2:2 and in Mosiah 4:11. (Speaking more generally, it’s only Jacob in 2 Nephi 9 and Benjamin in Mosiah 4 who ever in scripture associate the word “greatness” with God.) Second and more importantly, the wording of Lehi’s statement, “thy days shall be spent in the service of thy God,” is borrowed heavily by Benjamin in Mosiah 2 (see Mosiah 2:12, 16, 17, 19). There’s good reason to suspect that Benjamin was a close reader of Lehi’s words to Jacob. He alone in subsequent Nephite tradition seems to have drawn on the language of these first verses.
More word needs to be done on what these connections between Lehi and Benjamin might mean (John, I’m looking at you!). For the moment, I think I’d just like to identify the connection and ask others what sense is to be made of it—again, mostly so that I can get on to other tasks I’d like to address in this already-getting-long post.
Complications of Audience
I can only hope I haven’t bored anyone with what I’ve done so far here. It’s all necessary work, however preliminary. But now I want to get on to the kind of work in which I’m much more at home—and which I find much more engaging: theological interpretation. And I’m going to do this sort of work while addressing what at first can only appear to be a merely exegetical concern, namely, the matter of audience.
This will come in two parts. First, I want to say something about the apparently simple distinction between the identified audiences of the two halves of 2 Nephi 2. And then I want to complicate that distinction by providing a bit of analysis of one detail in particular drawn from Jacob’s life: this matter of consecrating afflictions for gain. There are, of course, other details from Jacob’s life that might be relevant, though I’ll deal only with this one. Please feel free—read: obligated!—to say something about other aspects of Jacob’s life that might be important to the interpretation of 2 Nephi 2.
Generally speaking, it seems to be possible to divide 2 Nephi 2 up into two major parts. The first half runs through verse 13, and the second half begins with verse 14. There are several indications that these two “halves” should be regarded as distinct. For instance, note the difference in style of discourse: in the first half Lehi speaks in the philosophical or theological abstract, while in the second half he speaks narratively and concretely. Similarly, note the difference in use of tenses, obviously connected with the difference in styles: in the first half (with the exception of the first few verses, which I’ll try to explain in the third part of this post) Lehi always employs the present indicative, while in the second half he almost universally uses the simple past tense. Perhaps more complicatedly, we might note that verse 13 brings all the themes of the first half of the discourse to a kind of point of absurdity, with the very creation vanishing away, while verse 14 opens the second half of the discourse by reversing that absurdity and marking a kind of new beginning.
More immediately relevant to us, however, is the fact that the two halves of the discourse seem to have distinct audiences. It’s clear from these first verses that Lehi addresses himself directly and, as it were, only to Jacob in the first half. This seems to be confirmed in verse 11, when Lehi interrupts his theological talk with a reiteration of “my firstborn in the wilderness.” It seems clear that right up through verse 13, Jacob is the unique audience Lehi intends to address. But notice that verse 13 opens with an indication of a shift in audience: “my sons.” This is confirmed again in verse 28 with another “my sons,” and then again in verse 30 with yet another “my sons.” It thus appears that the second half of the discourse is addressed not only to Jacob, but to all of Lehi’s sons. The abstract and more obviously theological part of the discourse is something Lehi wants to tell Jacob about specifically—all the talk of how the atonement functions, all the focus on the necessity of preaching, all the complicated business of opposition and its connection with law, etc. The narrative and more obviously didactic part of the discourse, however, is something Lehi wants all of his sons to hear—all the talk of the actual story of Adam and Eve, all the careful distinction-drawing between acting and being acted upon, all the discussion of being free to choose life or death, etc.
(I might note that paying attention to audience perhaps suggests that the two halves divide between verses 12 and 13, rather than between verses 13 and 14. Does the “I speak unto you these things for your profit” in verse 14 refer back to the content at least of verse 13, suggesting that Lehi has already turned from Jacob alone to all of his sons? And does the repeated “ye” of verse 13 perhaps mark that shift? We might do some work on trying to fix exactly when this shift takes place.)
It isn’t hard to see why the didactics of the second half of the discourse might be meant for Jacob’s brothers. They are, after all, the “rude” ones who have made Jacob’s life miserable. And it isn’t hard to see why the theology of the first half of the discourse might be meant for Jacob alone. He is, after all, the one who has to make sense of the redemption of his miserable life. But I wonder if Lehi’s reference to consecration doesn’t complicate things. It would be one thing if Lehi said something like: “Your brothers have been jerks and ruined your life, but I’ll get to them in a moment. In the meanwhile, I want to tell you how the plan of redemption works so that you can find happiness nonetheless.” But Lehi doesn’t say that. He says, rather, something like: “Your brothers have been jerks and ruined your life, but God will use the very ruins of your life—as ruins—to do something remarkable with you. This is all, as it were, a part of the plan.”
That complicates things. Lehi finds himself having to tell one son that all the misery caused by the other sons has been, in a sense, an integral part of God’s purposes, but he has to do so without letting those other sons come to the conclusion that they’ve been merely passive tools in God’s work. The shift in audience, it seems, is necessary. Lehi has to find a way to weave an explanation of redemption for Jacob with a reprimand against continued disobedience to Jacob’s oldest brothers. How’s that to be done?
But if we’re to get very far with this question, I think we need to assess much more carefully the stakes of Lehi’s reference to consecration.
The most straightforward definition of “consecrate” is, as Webster’s 1828 dictionary makes clear, is “to make or declare to be sacred, by certain ceremonies or rites,” thus “to set apart, dedicate, or devote,” etc. A quick glance at the use of “consecrate” in scripture, where it is most often used to refer to the consecration of priests or kings, bears this out. In addition to this more common usage, however, there are references that can’t so easily be made sense of, and it so happens that Lehi’s reference to consecration in 2 Nephi 2:2 is among them. But even before dealing with the less common, I find myself asking whether we’ve really ever thought through the implications of the common usage. What does it mean to “devote” something, to “make or declare” something “to be sacred”?
But isn’t it simple enough? Isn’t it just a matter of making clear that there are two distinct realms—the sacred and the profane—and that consecration is the ritual procedure through which we move an object from the one into the other? Of course, the distinction between the two realms can’t be said to be a real one, because nothing about a consecrated object can be said to be physically different after the act of consecration. We don’t believe, after all, in transubstantiation—that is, in the idea that through the consecration of the host there’s a transformation of the substance of the bread and wine even as the perceivable accidents remain the same. So we’d want, it seems, to say that consecration amounts to a kind of conventional transformation, a shift in how we regard the status of certain objects—regardless of the fact that the laws of the conservation of energy and matter remain in place. Of course, we’ll insist that there’s a little more than mere convention at work here, since consecration is effected through authority, and God Himself guarantees whatever is effected through proper authority. Consecration thus appears, on the usual account, to be a kind of divinely guaranteed convention.
That’s the usual account. I’d like to complicate it.
Only once in the Bible is consecration connected with “gain”: in Micah 4:13 (a passage, incidentally, that’s quoted in 3 Nephi 20:19). It’s interesting that in that text gain is what’s consecrated, whereas here in 2 Nephi 2 something is consecrated for gain, but I’ll leave further puzzling over that distinction for later. Is it significant that an unexpected Hebrew word lies behind consecration in the Micah text? Elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible, “consecrate” translates one form or another of the root qdsh (to make holy) or a form of the phrase ml’ yd (to fill the hand—a reference to an ordination ritual). In Micah, however, the word translates the Hebrew khrm, the root generally used in connection with the ban on goods acquired in holy war. Consecration there—and we shouldn’t overlook the fact that it’s this use that lies behind all our talk of the law of consecration in our own dispensation—is a matter less of what is sanctified than of what has been sanctioned, less of the awesome than of the awful. There’s an obvious connection between these, as anthropologists have been pointing out for a century (there’s a veritable history of folks grappling with the double status of the holy, one Giorgio Agamben traces in a productive way in The Sacrament of Language, for anyone interested). Whether something is sanctioned or sanctified, it’s in some sense subtracted from the economy of the everyday. And it’s this that should give us to think carefully about what’s at stake in Lehi’s gesture.
Might we think about consecration in terms of a kind of potentialization, a kind of deactualization? What is it we do in consecrating our gain in, say, D&C 42? To a certain extent at least, the key to consecration as we’re to live it is transforming what we possess into what we are stewards over. In Pauline terms, we replace “using up” with “use.” In a world ordered from top to bottom by ownership, consecration amounts to deactualization, to a kind of “putting out of play” through a reorientation of the consecrated to something “invisible,” so to speak, within the world’s economic order. In consecration, we might say, we uncouple something from the ends the idolatrous order of the world assigns to it. We make something endless by unbinding it from the telos that guarantees its (economic) meaning. Thus stripping what we consecrate of its actuality—where actuality is a function of the place something occupies in an economically defined order of things—we return to it its potentiality or potentialities, at once its possibilities and its potency, at once the variety of its possible uses and the power inherent to the thing but sapped in its being harnessed to economic production.
How does any of this clarify Jacob’s situation or Lehi’s words? The Lord will consecrate Jacob’s sufferings. Now we might read that as: The Lord will uncouple Jacob’s sufferings from the ends assigned to them in the economy of Lehi’s family. The sufferings aren’t to be gotten rid of, overturned, or overshadowed by something glorious. Rather, they’re to be used. Jacob, we might say, will have the task of using them. Jacob, we might say, will have to give them up, to relinquish ownership of them in order to be a steward over them. Jacob, we might say, will recognize that they have, as products of sibling rivalry, etc., been sanctioned. He’s not to employ them in constructing any self-identity, nor is he to make them his own by taking over into his own projects the projects inscribed in those sufferings. He’s to experience in those sufferings something endless, something gratuitous, something graceful—the Lord’s own hand.
Or something like that.
This sheds light, I think, on questions of audience. Jacob’s brothers, if they understand this properly, can’t hear in Lehi’s approbation of Jacob’s sufferings a kind of approval of their actions. They’ll still be upbraided. And perhaps they’re already upbraided. Not only have they done wrong in their rudeness, they’ve done wrong themselves by refusing to uncouple the products of their actions from the actions themselves. Wedded as we usually are to thinking that sin always lies in our choice of certain ends over others, there’s a hint here—expounded at length in the Book of Job, of course—that sin lies rather in our choice of ends at all. Redemption, for Jacob, is in part a question of rendering even suffering endless, much more than it’s a question of bringing suffering to an end, however justifiable that end appears economically.
Might this get us started in thinking about opposition later in the sermon?
Structure and Time
Finally, I want to assess the theological importance of a structure I’ve riddled out of the first verses of 2 Nephi 2. It’s not unconnected to what I’ve just had to say about consecration, but I’ll see whether I have much to say about that. At any rate, here’s a structure I see at work in verses 1-4:
[past] thou hast suffered afflictions and much sorrow . . .
[present] nevertheless, . . . thou knowest the greatness of God
[future] and he shall consecrate thine afflictions for thy gain
[future] wherefore thy soul shall be blessed
[future] and thou shalt dwell safely with thy brother Nephi
[future] and thy days shall be spent in the service of thy God
[present] wherefore I know that thou art redeemed . . .
[past] for thou hast beheld that in the fullness of time he cometh . . .[past] and thou hast beheld in thy youth his glory
[present] wherefore thou art blessed
[future] even as they unto whom he shall minister in the flesh[present] for the spirit is the same
[past] yesterday
[present] today
[future] and forever
That there’s so much variation in tenses here is striking because right after the “yesterday, today, and forever” business that clearly marks the culmination of the variations there’s an almost complete disappearance of any variation through the remainder of the first half of the sermon. The rest of the relatively abstract discourse directed solely to Jacob speaks in the abstract present indicative, without any need to turn to past or future: “redemption cometh,” “there is no flesh that can dwell,” “all men come unto God,” “it must needs be that there is an opposition,” “if ye shall say, . . . ye shall also say,” and so on. It’s only here in these first verses that there’s any strong variation in tense, and here it’s quite intense.
Is there a sense or even a structure here? Lehi begins with the past (afflictions, etc.), moves to the present (Jacob’s knowledge of God’s greatness), and then shifts to the future (a set of four consequences bound up with Jacob’s knowledge: consecrated afflictions, a blessed soul, safety in dwelling, and days given to God’s service), from there back to the present (Jacob is redeemed), and again back to the past (Jacob’s has already seen that Christ would come). Here there’s a kind of obvious chiasm: from a past of affliction and sorrow through a present knowledge to a blessed future, then back through a redemption for the present to a knowledge had in the past. This chiasm is followed by two quick past/present/future sequences that are obviously structured intentionally in that way (the first: Jacob beheld glory in the past, and so is blessed in the present, precisely as those who will behold the same glory in the future; the second: yesterday, today, and forever), which are separated by a statement about the absolute sameness (and hence presence) of the Spirit.
All of this, it seems to me, says something about the temporality of Jacob’s relationship to the teachings Lehi will go on to spell out. We’ll be looking at more of verses 3 and 4 next week, of course, so we’ll see better how the last parts of this structure play out, but I think we can already begin to think about the basic stakes of Lehi’s gesture here. There is, in the discourse he’s about to give, a kind of collapse of past and future into an eternal present. It’s as if Lehi wants from the very beginning to problematize any belief that things have ever been different, or that they will ever be different. The principles, in short, are eternal, unchanging. And that’s to be made fully clear. (This is something Nephi takes up elsewhere. Take a look at the last verses of 1 Nephi 10, for instance.)
What might all this imply about the texts we’ll be working on over the next weeks? I’ll leave that an open question for now, as I’ve left other questions open. Now, I’ll leave to you all the task of giving shape to the discussion I’m trying far too hard to start.
Lehi's Discourse 
Nice work Joe—you’ve provided plenty to ponder, and I’m sure I’ll be returning to this post multiple times over this week.
Right now, I want to think about the questions you bring out regarding the position of 2 Ne 2 with regards to other scripture. I think you’re right to suggest that 2 Ne 2 presents something of a theological alternative in its focus on atonement compared to the surrounding chapters. Thinking through how this shift might (or might not) be signaled textually, I went back and looked at the end of 2 Ne 1, where Lehi addresses his other sons and then Zoram.
I find it interesting that structurally, the addresses here all begin the same: “And now, [identity of person being addressed]” (2 Ne 1:28, 1:30, and 2:1). Read together without the chapter break, there’s a kind of rhythm present in this address; the repetition of the “and now”s suggests a kind of turning, as if Lehi is slowly circling around, addressing each in turn.
However, there are some fairly sharp contrasts between the addresses in 2 Ne 1 and that of 2 Ne 2. First, note that in 2 Ne 1:28, Lehi addresses all his sons (sans Nephi—I’m going to not talk about the hows and whys of that; Grant Hardy has some interesting ideas about it in his “Understanding the Book of Mormon”), by birth and by marriage, who are traditional Jews, born and raised in Jerusalem, familiar with its customs and culture. Next, he addresses Zoram in verse 30; Zoram is characterized as a more liminal identity, associated with the culture of Jerusalem since that’s where he is also from, but explicitly not part of Lehi’s sons—Lehi explicitly identifies him as a “servant” and then a “friend.” Finally, he turns to Jacob, who is identified, twice, as *not* being part of the Jerusalem culture, but rather as from the “wilderness.”
I think there’s something significant in this move from Jerusalem sonship through Jerusalem not-sonship to a new Wilderness sonship—it’s like Lehi is marking a break not only in his family, but in his descendants as well as being not only geographically but culturally, socially, and scripturally (and doctrinally?) separate from Jerusalem.
Another way that this break is marked in the text has to do with the substance of Lehi’s words to these three groups. In 2 Ne 1:28, he identifies his sons/sons-in-law, and then leaves them a conditional blessing (if you hearken to Nephi, I’ll leave you my first blessing; if not, it’s his). In 2 Ne 1:30, he identifies Zoram, notes his faithfulness, and then gives another conditional blessing (your seed will dwell in the land with Nephi’s seed as long as they keep the commandments).
But in 2 Ne 2:1-3, the pattern is markedly different. Lehi identifies Jacob, but then provides not a conditional blessing, but rather an unconditional declaration of Jacob’s multiple, non-land-nor-inheritance-based blessings: “and he *shall* consecrate thine aafflictions for thy gain. 3 Wherefore, thy soul *shall* be blessed, and thou *shalt* dwell safely with thy brother, Nephi; and thy days *shall* be spent in the service of thy God.” (Note: the lack of land is significant—Jacob is identified as the one from no-land, the wilderness, the non-place.)
I wonder if the differences in these three sequences then help to mark a shift away from what might be termed an “Old Testament” understanding of blessing and covenant (conditional) towards a different (“wilderness”?) understanding of blessing and covenant (unconditional). Wouldn’t such a shift foreshadow the theological importance of the universality of the atonement and unconditionality of grace?
So, none of this really comes any closer to the “why” you ask (why is Lehi shifting in this direction), but I do think it helps further establish grounds for such a shift; it also then raises for me the question of audience—as in, would those listening have noticed such a shift? And if they did, would they for any reason then be paying more attention to what Lehi says to Jacob, even though they are not explicitly addressed, simply because they are picking up on the fact that he’s doing something different here from the beginning?
Nice, Jenny. I particularly like the way you’ve made sense of Zoram’s place in the series of “blessings” Lehi gives (although I’m now wondering why Sam comes last of all, in 4:11!). I think this detail especially strengthens the case you’re making that there’s something “progressive” or “directed” about the ordering of the blessings. I want to think about that further.
As for the bit about unconditionality—very nice point. To what extent is this unconditionality pinned on Jacob’s having already beheld his Redeemer, etc.? Joseph in chapter 3, incidentally, gets neither a conditional nor an unconditional blessing, but gets a series of third-person imperatives (“may the Lord consecrate,” “may the Lord bless,” etc.). How does adding that detail complicate the story you’ve already begun to uncover here?
Joe and John (below), I wonder if what Joe calls the imperative and John describes as a combination (simultaneous?) of both the conditional and the non-conditional elements are there for Joseph in 2 Ne 3 is related at all to Joseph’s young age? That is, as a child he is “moldable” to a certain degree. It reads almost like Lehi is directing or even commanding the shape of Joseph’s future.
That would then contrast with Jacob’s non-conditional blessings, indicating that Jacob (who also must be fairly young) has somehow reached an age of accountability, an ability to make and follow his own spiritual decisions. To me, this indicates that our ability to be spiritually self-directed and responsible begins much earlier than we may culturally consider.
Oh, and Joe, regarding Sam, it’s interesting to note that he is also included by name in the blessing Lehi gives in 2 Ne 1. So the blessing in 2 Ne 4 is somehow a return, a revision, or a repetition, no?
The conditional – non-conditional pattern is interesting. In 2 Nephi 3, Lehi seems to give both conditional and non-conditional promises to Joseph. He states, “may the Lord consecrate also unto thee this land, which is a most precious land, for thine inheritance and the inheritance of thy seed with thy brethren, for thy security forever, if it so be that ye shall keep the commandments of the Holy One of Israel
(2 Nephi 3:2, conditional)” and “may the Lord bless thee forever, for thy seed shall not utterly be destroyed” (v.3, seems not to be conditional; however v. 25 in some ways could make everything he says conditional.
There is a lot to ponder here; for the moment, I want to confine myself to textual connections between King Benjamin and Lehi (since you looked at me!) It seems like you have covered the most significant ones, particularly as relates to 2 Nephi 2.
One other 2 Nephi 2 connection I found comes when Lehi says, “I speak unto you these things for your profit and learning; for there is a God, and _he hath created all things, both the heavens and the earth_, and all things that in them are, both things to act and things to be acted upon….But behold, all things have been done in the wisdom of him who knoweth all things” (2 Nephi 2:14, 24).
King Benjamin may have been echoing these words when he said, “Believe in God, believe that he is, and that _he created all things, both in heaven and in earth_; believe that he has all wisdom, and all power, both in heaven and in earth; believe that man doth not comprehend all the things which the Lord can comprehend” (Mosiah 4:9).
Perhaps the most interesting connection I found (and this doesn’t really connect with the present effort) is between these two verses:
“Wherefore, I, Lehi, have obtained a promise, that inasmuch as those whom _the Lord God shall bring out of the land of Jerusalem_ shall _keep his commandments_, they shall prosper upon the face of this land; and they shall be kept from all other nations, that they may possess this land unto themselves. And if it so be that they shall _keep his commandments_ they shall be blessed upon the face of this land, and there shall be none to molest them, nor to take away the land of their inheritance; and they shall dwell safely forever” (2 Nephi 1:9)
“And moreover, I shall give this people a name, that thereby they may be distinguished above all the people which _the Lord God hath brought out of the land of Jerusalem_; and this I do because they have been a diligent people in _keeping the commandments_ of the Lord” (Mosiah 1:11)
Given that King Benjamin faced the difficult task of unifying different people, it’s interesting that he should connect here with Lehi’s inclusive words – namely that all righteous people brought to this land could receive the blessings associated with it. Such words could have potentially been unifying for Nephites, Mulekties and others hearing King Benjamin’s words.
It’s worth mentioning, at least in passing, that the textual parallels between 2 Nephi 9-10 and King Benjamin’s speech are much stronger than those between Lehi and King Benjamin (which is not to say that those between Benjamin and Lehi are insignificant).
I haven’t yet had the chance to exhaustively examine connection, but for those who are interested, here are all the exact four-word phrase matches between Lehi’s words and King Benjamin’s (acknowledging of course that the most important connections could be 2-3 words or non-exact matches):
you for behold I
ye should remember to
will not suffer that
which the Lord hath
which I have spoken
were it not for
to be judged of
things which I have
things that ye may
the words which I
the things which I
the Spirit of the
the Lord will deliver
the greatness of God
the goodness of God
the glory of God
the end of the
the devil who is
that ye should remember
that thou art a
that the Lord will
stood before me And
Spirit of the Lord
people of the Lord
of the thing which
of God and your
of God and his
of a just God
land of Jerusalem and
keeping the commandments of
in the service of
in keeping the commandments
in a state of
if ye shall keep
greatness of God and
God and your own
go down to my
from the beginning and
favored people of the
eternal life through the
down to my grave
devil who is the
desire that ye should
created all things both
children of men and
by which ye are
and eternal life through
a knowledge of the
ye shall keep the
would that ye should
which the Lord God
to that which is
the Lord God hath
the land of Jerusalem
sons I would that
shall keep the commandments
out of the land
of the Lord that
of the land of
now my sons I
my sons I would
keep the commandments of
hath commanded me that
commandments of the Lord
by the hand of
brought out of the
And now my sons
according to that which
the hand of the
the commandments of the
hand of the Lord
I would that ye
the children of men
John, this is helpful. It’s interesting that 2 Nephi 9-10 seems to be particularly connected to Benjamin’s speech. Given the obvious connections between 2 Nephi 2 and 2 Nephi 9—Lehi to Jacob, Jacob to the Nephites—it seems appropriate that Benjamin draws on both texts. What do your resources suggest about the connections between Benjamin and other small plates texts? Are these two sermons (Lehi’s and Jacob’s) clearly the most significant source in the small plates for his wording?
I’ve toyed before with the possibility that the small plates would have played a particularly important role in Benjamin’s thinking. After Nephi’s death, the small plates passed from the royal to the prophetic line (from Jacob to Amaleki), while the large plates remained with the royal line—effecting a kind of kings-versus-prophets split in Nephite ruling power. That split came to an end when Amaleki, having no heir and the small plates being full, delivered the prophetic record to Benjamin, reuniting for the first time since Nephi the large and the small plates and healing a kind of breach (remember the animosity between Jacob and Nephi’s successor!). It would seem likely that Benjamin would have given a good deal of attention to the small plates as a result, and I had my suspicions that the small plates play a role in the shape of his sermon (at least in its basic organization: after some preliminaries, his sermon follows Nephi’s creation/fall/atonement/veil pattern in interesting ways), but I’d not look at specifically textual (as opposed to structural) connections. I’m fascinated by what’s being unearthed here, and I’m eager to see where it goes.
I haven’t done enough comprehensive study to definitively state where the majority of the connections come from. But it does seem clear that there are 2 or 3 times more textual connections to Jacob than Lehi. Interestingly some of the (more non-interesting) allusions fall into the “basic organization” you mentioned above.
After Jacob quoted Isaiah 50-51, he began the main body of his address by explaining why he had read the words of Isaiah. He said, “I have read these things that ye might know…I speak unto you these things that ye may rejoice” (2 Nephi 9:1, 3). Similarly, after explaining how he had labored as their king, Benjamin said, “I tell you these things that ye may know…I tell you these things that ye may learn wisdom” (Mosiah 2:15, 17).
Later, both say they have spoken the words which God had commanded them to say (2 Nephi 9:40, Mosiah 3:23). Finally, both have breaks in their discourses (Jacob’s at the end of 2 Nephi 9, King Benjamin’s at the end of Mosiah 3). Jacob prefaces his break by saying, “On the morrow I will declare unto you the remainder of my words,” and King Benjamin resumes his address saying, “I would again call your attention, that ye may hear and understand the remainder of my words” (2 Nephi 9:54, Mosiah 4:4).
But those are trivial and starting to take us away from our main purpose. I’m going to go back to your original post and pick up a different thread…
John, I really appreciate the point you make about Lehi’s words being “inclusive”, and that that inclusivity is potentially why Benjamin, as a uniter, would be drawn to study them. And the textual work you’ve provided above is fascinating—I had no idea the connection was both as subtle and as strong as that. Yes, 2 Ne 9-10 is more clearly connected, but the textual tone and register Benjamin utilizes (perhaps unconsciously) here, for me at least, underscores the themes of family in connection with covenant that was so important to both Lehi and Benjamin. Thanks.
Joe you state, “I’m interested in what thoughts others may have on the uneasy place 2 Nephi 2 occupies in the Book of Mormon. For my own part, I’ll be satisfied for the moment just to have articulated its basic outlines—mostly so that I can get on to the next question.”
I know you’ve carefully developed an argument about the Nephi-Abinadi split elsewhere, and at the same time as you say, it’s “messy in certain ways.” While 2 Nephi 3 certainly has a covenant focus, it’s less-strong in 2 Nephi 1. Verses 13-32 seem much more application-oriented. That’s a small quibble, I’m just saying that 2 Nephi 2 isn’t the _only_ passage that turns toward the personal.
I’m really interested in the connection between “service of thy God” and “do the service of the tabernacle of the Lord” (Number 16:9). This relationship, along with the lack of land that Jenny points out may be indicators of Jacob’s priestly role.
Lehi’s usage of “first born” is interesting for the reasons you point out. Lehi does use the term “first blessing” to mean something perhaps close to “birth right” when he speaks to Laman and Lemuel in 2 Ne 1:28-29. The phrase doesn’t seem to appear anywhere else. It would appear that Lehi’s language of “first born” as well as “first blessing” function to advance Nephi and Jacob into favored positions. In a sense we get a kind of trilogy of positions with Lehi as prophet, Jacob as priest, and Nephi as king.
Hardy (Understanding the Book of Mormon, 39) explores Nephi’s usage of “rudeness” in the context of 1 Ne. 18:9. He suggests this non-biblical term means something akin to “inappropriate levity” when used by Nephi to paint Laman and Lemuel in a less than flattering way, but that Nephi is unable to charge them with any specific crime. That interpretation seems to make sense to me in terms of Nephi’s usage there. Here, however, Lehi (recognizing that Nephi has some editorial control) seems to point to something more serious. Webster’s 1828 dictionary lists the word “violent” as one meaning of “rudeness.” Something along those lines may be more apropos, in terms of Lehi’s language, as a reasonable cause of Jacob “suffering affliction and much sorrow” to such an extent that God would need to consecrate those “afflictions” (also note Lehi’s focus on Jacob “dwell[ing] safely” in verse 3). I wonder if there may also be an attempt, albeit minor, to characterize Jacob as a kind of Christ-figure whose suffering and affiliations are transformed.
I like the idea that Lehi is struggling with audience and trying to say something to one son that other sons are also hearing. To the extent that the speaker is always part of the audience, I like to think that perhaps Lehi is speaking to himself as he speaks to Jacob, hoping that his own tribulations (he uses the term “my tribulation in the wilderness”) will likewise work for his good in some sense.
You suggest that Lehi is saying to Jacob “Your brothers have been jerks and ruined your life, but God will use the very ruins of your life—as ruins—to do something remarkable with you. This is all, as it were, a part of the plan.” I think this is an important articulation or distinction to make and I’m glad you raise it here. For God to consecrate an affliction that occurred to Jacob, seems to be different from God intending from the beginning that an affliction occur to Jacob (unbeknownst to him), a planned event that always had the telos of being a gain for him even though he was not aware of it. I may be restating (and hopefully not misstating) your explanation by saying that Lehi is suggesting that God will imbue Jacob’s suffering with a new telos after the fact, but Lehi is not suggesting that God secretly had given these acts such a telos from the beginning (that they were actually the plan). That latter view would seem to suggest that Laman and Lemuel’s acts were in a way sanctioned or intended-the very problem you raise by audience. Now, I’m tempted to see Lehi advancing that paradigm all the way through his discourse even including his discussion on the fall.
Rico, I like the formulation of Lehi as prophet, Jacob as priest, and Nephi as king. I hadn’t thought of it that way before, but it’s a useful way of looking at things.
Also, I don’t think Joe was advocating the idea that God intended Laman and Lemuel’s rudeness / disobedience etc. (Correct me if I’m wrong Joe, and please explain.) Rather, in “God will use the very ruins of your life—as ruins—to do something remarkable with you” I see the advancement of the enactment of the atonement in all lives. As in, all of our lives are in ruins to some degree or another, sometimes due to our own sins, sometimes due to the sins of others, sometimes due to chance, and the grace and work of the atonement is to work in these ruins and, rather than erase them, work in them as ruins to do God’s work and build the kingdom.
Another quick thought on that question of God’s role in human afflictions, and them being consecrated for one’s gain–there are passages later in the chapter that I think could be read as a theodicy, particularly the notion of opposition in all things. This question seems to be a particular concern of Lehi/Jacob, and I’m interested in thinking more about how this notion, that God can bring good out of evil, might fit into Lehi’s broader theological worldview.
I’ll be most interested to see where you go with these kinds of questions, Sheila. I’m quite nervous about reading a theodicy into verse 11, though it’s often been done (sloppily, usually—hence my interest in where you’ll go). I suspect that the motivation is, as you intimate here, an apparent implicit connection between (a) Lehi’s mention of Jacob’s sufferings and their consecration and (b) the whole business of opposition taken up in both halves of the discourse. It’s that apparent connection that I think I’m interested in contesting—at the very least on the grounds that “opposition” doesn’t seem to mean anything like “affliction” or “suffering” when verse 11 is read closely. Of course, that’s not to say that it can’t be read that way, just that I’m a bit nervous about it. So I’d be thrilled to see some actually-responsible work done on this question.
(I should note that Dennis Potter’s essay in the David Paulsen festschrift is a sustained critique of verse-11-theodicies.)
Thanks for letting me know about Dennis Potter’s work–I’ll definitely need to look that up. I’m actually suspicious of theodicies in general, at least partly for ethical reasons, so it will be interesting to play around with this more as we work through the chapter.
I should note that Dennis Potter’s essay in the David Paulsen festschrift is a sustained critique of verse-11-theodicies.
Some useful quotes from Potter’s presentation: “This paper will not attempt to discover what Lehi actually had in mind” and in the Q&A he explains in response to a question by David Paulsen that what he calls the “Opposition Theodicy” is the theodicy that he gets from UVU students (mostly LDS students) when presenting the problem of evil in his class (but he didn’t get this theodicy when he taught at Notre Dame). This is the reason that “I started exploring it as a theodicy separate from what I think Lehi actually means by it. I don’t think he means it to be this kind of answer to the problem of evil.” To this Paulsen in the audience agreed. Another exchange in the Q&A is particularly relevant (from some one who sounds very familiar):
Question: For my own selfish reasons I want to read your paper is that an argument that Lehi does get [inaudible], for instance, Hegel, and Marx. I would add Freud or Kant. Would you read your paper in that way really? You make the comment at the beginning that you don’t want to analyze what Lehi himself has in mind, but isn’t that really what your paper amounts to then that in order to get at what the text is actually saying, the intention of the text itself, we’ve got to move in a [philosophical?] direction?
Potter: Well, in so far as it would be an argument for that, it’d be a poor argument for that, it’s just a philosophical argument that one position doesn’t work very well, and this other position works better. That’s some reason to accept what someone says, but it’s not a lot of—I mean, the principle of charity is an important principle in interpreting what people say. It’s certainly not—if you always do that and always interpret people as charitably a possible, if I were to do that with my students, I would usually get them wrong. They don’t have the best arguments in mind necessarily.
And so, I think that the principle of charity is an important part, that would be an important part of it, but I think there would have to be more to deciding how to interpret what Lehi is doing, and I think that would involve a lot of textual criticism in terms of the Book of Mormon.
Actually, I don’t, I’m not even sure what—because it would have to be Lehi and not what also what also Mosiah says or Alma or. They might be different thinkers and they might have different views and so if they do have different views then what they say might not even be relevant to what Lehi says. Sometimes we approach the Book of Mormon as if it’s a theological whole, there’s all one theology in it and that and Mosiah and Alma and Amulek and Lehi, all the ones who do theology in there, and that they all agree. I don’t see that so I would be really careful if I were to interpret Lehi. I don’t even know where to start, because there is not even very much that he says, so I would just have to look only at that text. And then, of course, if Blake’s right it could just be Joseph Smith talking through Lehi, and actually I’m very sympathetic to Blake’s view and so then all of a sudden all of these other things would be relevant, what Joseph Smith has to say about opposition in other places and so on, would be relevant to the textual interpretation of what Lehi is supposedly saying.
I find this exchange quite interesting. First, Potter is more interested in critiquing not what Lehi is actually saying but an argument that he gets from students that he subsequently dubs “opposition theodicy.” Second, he outlines what one would need to do in order to examine what Lehi actually has in mind (which he is not doing), and also the methodological issues implicated.
I agree based on the language of the text, Lehi is not using the term “opposition” to mean “affliction” or “suffering.” However, this association is not necessary in order to read Lehi as intending to present a theodicy of some sort. Lehi explicitly discusses “bad” and “misery” in connection with the existence of God (and in the context of speaking to Jacob about affliction and sorrow). My question is why Lehi raises his arguments here and now in the narrative and not any other place along the way. What is on the minds of his audience that Lehi feels the need to present this argument? For those reasons, it does seem that Lehi could be seeking to offer some sort of explanation or argument for why we suffer, why there is wickedness, or why we must be tempted, and how this is not contrary to God’s wisdom and justice.
Joe, I’m really intrigued by your thoughts on consecration. One of the things that occurred to me in thinking about it is that, as you note, it’s often thought in terms of taking something out of the profane and into the sacred. But what if there isn’t ultimately a distinction between the two? I don’t quite know how to think about this in terms of contemporary LDS theology, given that we have clearly demarcated sacred space, but also the teaching that all things are spiritual, both in that they are spiritually created, and also the ultimate lack of difference between spirit and matter. (I’m also thinking of Teryl Givens’ work here, in People of Paradox, about the blurring of sacred and secular.) So back to consecration, I like what you’re doing because it doesn’t seem to rely, if I’m reading it right, on that sort of split. It strikes me as a narrative move: to approach something in the context of a new narrative is to change its telos, and to orient yourself to it in a different way.
Speaking of narrative, I’m also thinking about the differences you mention between the first and second halves of the chapter, in terms of the first being more philosophical and the second being more narrative. Narrative theologians point out that one of the advantages of narrative is that it engages people in a way that pure theological discourse doesn’t. (There might be people who are converted solely by encountering theological ideas, but they are few and far between.) It would make sense, then, if Lehi is shifting to preach to a broader audience, and one that isn’t necessarily converted, that he would adopt a more narrative mode of discourse.
Sheila – Yes, the troubling of the distinction between the sacred and the profane in Mormonism (and Terryl’s discussion in People of Paradox is exactly what I’d cite as well) is largely what’s behind my attempt to rethink the issue of consecration. I think you’ve understood me perfectly. I have the same questions, however, about the existence of sacred space in Mormonism—temples in particular, with the post-Nibley FARMS material articulating the OT priestly maintenance of the boundaries of the sacred being the scholarly thorn in my side. Frankly, we need a new theology of temples, one that recognizes fully the uncoupling of temple and state, of temple and law, of temple and exception. But that’s, of course, a different project. :)
Getting back to your more immediate point, I like your framing of consecration in narrative terms. The trick, of course, is that the consecrating narrative is one whose beginning point is undecidable (from within the parameters of the collection of narratives whose weave make up the world we know), whose narrator is indiscernible (again: from within the parameters of, etc.), whose appeal is genuinely universal rather than determined by the interests of a specifiable party (again: from within, etc.), and whose telos can’t be identified or must remain open (again: etc.). In short, we’d have to be careful not to confuse a consecrating narrative with any narrative already on offer—and its this imperative that, generally speaking, leads us to posit a kind of simplistic sacred/profane distinction. Or so I suspect.
As for your other point about narrative: that’s very helpful. You have only my thanks in response!
Response to First Post
2 Nephi 2 and Jacob 5
In his discussion of Jacob’s afflictions being consecrated for his gain, Joe comments that Jacob may ”experience in those sufferings something endless, something gratuitous, something graceful—the Lord’s own hand.” Sheila suggests the possibility of 2 Nephi 2 offering a theodical account, and it could be argued that the entire chapter is a way of making sense of Jacob’s life, and this theme may continue in Jacob’s own discourses. Lehi attunes him to the importance of making theological sense of his own existence.
Significantly, many years later, when Jacob is drawing on Zenos in the allegory of the Olive Tree found in Jacob 5, that he highlights a providential relation to one planted in adversity, yet nurtured by the hand of God. Here, Jacob quotes Zenos thus : “And it came to pass that the servant said unto his master: How comest thou hither to plant this tree, or this branch of the tree? For behold, it was the poorest spot in all the land of the vineyard. And the Lord of the vineyard said unto him: Counsel me not; I knew that it was a poor spot of ground; wherefore, I said unto thee, I have nourished it this long time, and though beholdest that it hath brought forth much fruit.”
Perhaps Jacob himself can identify with this, that through the adversity he has faced at the hands of his family members and by living in a liminal state, he has nevertheless been nurtured and guided by God. He brings forth much fruit through preaching, temple service, and maintaining the scriptural record. Not unlike Joseph Smith translating the plates and reading prophecy about himself in 2 Nephi 3: 7-15, perhaps Jacob finds in the words of Zenos illlumination of his own spiritual standing before God: God does something remarkable with Jacob’s life not in spite of the rudeness of his brethren, but precisely because of it. It is because of his precarious standing in his family life—the particular way in which he has experienced opposition in all things—that God nurtures him directly and prepares him for his life’s tasks. Lehi ends the discourse by telling his sons that he has “no other object save it be the everlasting welfare of your souls.” Not only by listening to his father’s teachings, but by subsequently taking and keeping the record, he is able to see who he is, how providence has worked in his own life, and make sense of his sufferings, adversity, and opposition. In this sense, the theodical account is not given in the text alone, but is performative and enacted.
Interesting thoughts, Deidre. I wonder, in light of this, how Jacob would have regarded Zenos’ words about the branch planted in a good spot of land. Might he have found it significant that that branch was the first to be corrupted? Perhaps there are echoes here with Jacob 2 as well, where Jacob watches the Nephites settle into a goodly land, only to begin immediately to pursue corruption….