Is 500 Pages Too Much?

When the Book of Mormon was first published in 1830, just eleven days before Joseph Smith formally organized the Church of Christ, it was a substantial volume—some 582 pages of dense paragraphs broken only by a few chapter and book divisions. The profusion of unfamiliar names and plotlines from a thousand years of Nephite history, ostensibly abridged from multiple plates and records, would have made it a difficult read. Nevertheless, its main message came through clearly enough, telling the story of a branch of Israel in the Americas that worshiped Christ before his birth, was visited by him after his resurrection, and then was eventually destroyed when they fell into disbelief and sin. Today the official edition has been streamlined to 530 pages, thanks to a smaller font size and double columns, but the Book of Mormon is still a challenge to read cover to cover, perhaps even more so than two hundred years ago because its archaic King James Bible–like language is increasingly foreign to contemporary English speakers. 

Longtime Church members know the book’s major stories from lessons, talks, and artwork, and many will have spent time with the text itself in personal or family scripture study. Latter-day Saints revere the book as “Another Testament of Jesus Christ” (a subtitle that was added in 1982), yet we tend to read it devotionally rather than analytically. That is to say, we skim its pages—not always rapidly—seeking confirmation of Moroni’s promise that God will “manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost” (Moroni 10:4), and we treat the book as evidence for Joseph Smith’s prophetic calling and the authority of the church he founded. We read for familiar doctrines such as faith and repentance that we can apply to our lives, and we take comfort in its witness of Christ’s atonement and his offer of resurrection and salvation. This approach is perhaps best exemplified in the Come, Follow Me curriculum, where the manual highlights just a few verses each week, with brief comments by General Authorities followed by invitations for reflection and discussion. 

This is all good, but some readers may wonder why it takes five hundred pages to convey these points. How would our experience with the Book of Mormon be different if all we had was, say, 1 Nephi 1–18 and 3 Nephi 11–27 stitched together with a few comments from Mormon, and then Moroni 4–5, and 10 tacked onto the end—a bit less than one hundred pages? We might miss several beloved tales (which could be replaced by incidents from the Bible or Church history), but we would still have inspiring stories, the basic principles of the gospel, the sacrament prayers, and prophecies of the latter days. A drastically reduced Book of Mormon would still testify of Christ, and translating a one-hundred-page text from gold plates by means of the Urim and Thummim would be just as miraculous as translating five hundred pages. In short, there seems to be a mismatch between what the Book of Mormon is and how we use it.

This is not simply a thought experiment. Currently, high school students need only read twenty-two chapters to receive seminary credit for an entire year (1 Nephi 1; 8; 11; 2 Nephi 9:1–29; Mosiah 2–5; Alma 5; 7; 32–34; 3 Nephi 11; 15–21; Moroni 10). Similarly, the institute manual Teachings and Doctrine of the Book of Mormon asks college students to look at about forty scattered verses, roughly the equivalent of a chapter and a half, for each of its twenty-eight lessons. If, as these courses suggest, a few chapters and selected quotations from the Book of Mormon are all that it takes to gain a testimony and learn the basic doctrines of the Restoration, why is the Book of Mormon so long and convoluted, when it might have been as short as the Bhagavad Gita, or a compilation of wisdom sayings like the Dhammapada or the Daodejing? Indeed, it might have been more appealing to outsiders, and certainly easier for young people to grasp. 

In general, we tend to read the Book of Mormon instrumentally, as a means to receive personal revelation, to form a commitment to Joseph Smith and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and to affirm our understanding of basic Christian concepts and the teachings of Church leaders. These are important functions, yet the Book of Mormon was designed for a different type of reading—one that recognizes and responds to its well-crafted, intricate narrative. (In this respect, the Nephite record is quite different from the compilation of short, independent revelations that is the Doctrine and Covenants, or the revised biblical chapters in the Pearl of Great Price.) What would it look like to read the Book of Mormon as a gift from God, in which every word and phrase was potentially significant, where its basic structure was seen as an integral part of its message? How might things be different if our approach to this sacred text focused more on divine priorities rather than our personal needs and desires?

To take just one example, we might examine 2 Nephi 25–30. These chapters play an important role in the overall design of Nephi’s book. After reproducing a sermon by his younger brother Jacob on Isaiah 49–51 (2 Nephi 6–10), Nephi inserted an eight-verse introduction before quoting Isaiah 2–14 in full (2 Nephi 11–24), replicating the King James Version with a few intriguing variants. The prophecies of Isaiah obviously mattered a great deal to Nephi, who is depicted as poring over them meticulously, looking for God’s will concerning his chosen people and all of humankind. (By contrast, how often do Latter-day Saints quickly skim over these chapters, ignoring their historical and literary significance, sometimes not even recognizing that they were originally written as poetry?) In chapters 25–30, Nephi interweaves his own prophecies with those of Jacob and Isaiah, thus confirming the truth of his words through multiple witnesses (see 2 Nephi 11:2–4). These textual interconnections can be traced through phrasal repetitions and allusions. Here are just a few examples:

26:1—Nephi refers to “my beloved brethren” for the first time, adopting an expression that Jacob used thirteen times in chapters 6–10; Nephi will employ this phrase fifteen more times through the end of 2 Nephi. 

26:7—Nephi exclaims, “Thy ways are just,” thus reconciling himself to the will of God (as advised by Jacob at 10:24) regarding the future destruction of his posterity, despite the pain and anguish he had borne since his vision many years earlier (see 1 Nephi 15:5). 

26:14–19—Nephi interprets Isaiah 29:3–5 (originally referring to a siege of Jerusalem in 701 BC) by recontextualizing its words within a prophecy concerning the Lamanites and the coming forth of the Book of Mormon in the last days. Somewhat remarkably, this is done through insertions into a phrase-by-phrase recitation of the original Isaiah passage.

27:26—Nephi adds the words and learned to Isaiah 29:14 (“for the wisdom of their wise and learned shall perish”), thus connecting Isaiah’s prophecy with Jacob’s words at 2 Nephi 9:28 (“when they are learned they think they are wise”).

29:1—The Lord picks up Nephi’s combining of Isaiah 11:11 and 29:14 at 2 Nephi 25:14 (in reverse order), before continuing with additional quotations from Isaiah—something more easily seen than described.

Nephi: And the Lord will set his hand again the second time to restore his people from their lost and fallen state. Wherefore, he will proceed to do a marvelous work and a wonder among the children of men. (2 Nephi 25:14, with Isaiah phrases in italics)

The Lord: But behold there shall be many—at that day when I shall proceed to do a marvelous work among them, that I may remember my covenants which I have made unto the children of men, that I may set my hand again the second time to recover my people which are of the house of Israel. (2 Nephi 29:1)

In addition, the regular interactions with the King James Bible seen in 2 Nephi 25–30 make these chapters something of a biblical commentary. When Nephi alludes to the story of the brass serpent at 25:20, observing that the Lord “gave unto Moses power that he should heal the nations,” he makes the miracle of Numbers 21:4–9 applicable to all humankind, not just Israel. At 25:24–30, Nephi’s understanding of the law of Moses is similar to Paul’s, regarding it as a set of temporary commandments having their fulfillment and termination in Christ (see Romans 7:1–6; 10:4; Galatians 3:24–26), yet where Paul proclaims that Christians are dead to the law (Romans 7:4; Galatians 2:19), Nephi asserts that the law itself will be dead for believers. And Nephi transforms God’s general summons at Isaiah 55:1 into a personal invitation to come to Christ at 2 Nephi 26:25 (“Come unto me all ye ends of the earth”), in the process replacing Isaiah’s “wine and milk” with milk and honey, a common biblical description of the bounties of the promised land. 

Throughout 2 Nephi 25–30, it becomes clear that Nephi, though he has been granted extraordinary revelations and visions, is nevertheless a very careful reader of scripture, and he is also capable of listening to and learning from his younger brother—unlike Laman and Lemuel. He realizes that many of the prophecies in Isaiah 12–24, especially those concerning political events, had already been fulfilled by his own day, while others were still pending. One of his arguments is that the reliability of Isaiah’s predictions for the eighth century BC should lend credence to prophecies still to be realized (see 2 Nephi 25:6–8). Readers are invited to view Nephi’s writings in light of his struggles and frustrations with his family, his concerns for his descendants and future readers, his silence regarding his many years as king, and his developing understanding of God’s plan for humanity. Why else would Nephi’s words have been provided such a thick narrative context?

This mode of reading—identifying major textual components and how they fit together, looking for repetition and allusions, connecting everything to the broader narrative in the context of the writer’s life and intentions, with painstaking attention to individual words and phrases—is not what we are taught in Sunday School, seminary, or institute, much less in popular podcasts and blog posts. Yet approaching the Book of Mormon in this way, constantly asking questions, can take us deeper into the narrative, revealing a richness and nuance to the remarkable scripture that God had given us in this particular form. There is much more to Nephi than many readers of 1 Nephi first assume. Similarly, as we learn more about other Nephite prophets and writers, and about Christ himself through both his words and his guidance to the narrators, we can begin to appreciate the Book of Mormon as a gift. We may even begin to feel gratitude to have over five hundred pages of the kind of scripture that repays this type of close attention.

Fortunately for Latter-day Saints, there are precedents that we can draw upon. For several centuries Jews and Christians have read the Bible in astonishing detail, often with admirable religious insight, and frequently aided by historical-critical and textual studies. (The Hebrew Bible, especially, both respects and expects critical thinking from its readers.) The Book of Mormon and the Bible are not identical in how they function as history and literature, but there is enough overlap that several of the most useful and insightful approaches in biblical scholarship can be applied to the Mormon scripture. A good place to begin is with academic study Bibles such as those published by HarperCollins, including the recently released SBL Study Bible (from the Society of Biblical Literature), and by Oxford University Press, which has produced the New Oxford Annotated Bible, the Jewish Study Bible, and the Catholic Study Bible. In that same tradition, I edited the Annotated Book of Mormon, published by Oxford earlier this year, from which all the examples above are taken. This is the first nonbiblical scripture ever published by OUP’s Bible Division.

There are, to be sure, anachronisms and implausibilities in the Book of Mormon, and even passages where the Nephites and their prophets do not always live up to their ideals, yielding instead to what we might regard today as materialism, militarism, racism, and sexism. (There are lessons both positive and negative within its pages.) Yet the close study of this revealed text, in the entirety of its length and form, can bring us closer to God. Nephi, Jacob, Alma, Mormon, and Moroni are some of the wisest, most thoughtful, most spiritually mature voices in our religious tradition. By coming to know them through a detailed study of their struggles and encounters with divinity, as conveyed in their writings and editing, we can come to know Christ. The Book of Mormon is much more than is strictly necessary for a basic understanding of Christian principles and a testimony of Joseph Smith. It is one of the most miraculous elements of the Restoration, a self-revelation of God that apparently could not be adequately conveyed in less than five hundred pages.

Grant Hardy is a professor of History and Religious Studies at the University of North Carolina at Asheville.

Jorge Cocco is an accomplished artist known for inventing “sacrocubism”, gaining international recognition for his unique visual language and profound exploration of spirituality and human experience.