Through subbing in different Sunday school classes, this was my second week in a row with Alma chapter 5. The lesson manual calls for the teacher to begin by reading a scripture just before this week’s section, Alma 4:8
For they saw and beheld with great sorrow that the people of the church began to be lifted up in the pride of their eyes, and to set their hearts upon riches and upon the vain things of the world, that they began to be scornful, one towards another, and they began to persecute those that did not believe according to their own will and pleasure.
The lesson goes on to discuss Alma’s great sermon about experiencing a mighty change of heart and holding on to that change. It asks the students to describe what a person who has a prideful heart would value, versus those with a humble heart. It’s interesting, vital, stuff. But this scripture the lesson starts with is worth a whole lot more than a mere introductory preamble to a discussion of changed hearts.
This scripture is damning. To us. Here. You. Reading this page. To anyone of us who belong to this church, who were baptized in the name of Christ. This scripture right here should be lit up in neon and arrows to say “This applies to YOU!!”
One of my pet peeves in how we teach each other the gospel is that we tend to do it in a way that exempts ourselves. It’s us versus the world, or “some people,” or name withheld, and when we do strive to be publicly humble (which is a far greater oxymoron that Feminist Mormon could ever hope to be) we admit to needing the Atonement for all our faults and then only admit to the most mundane aspects of the mortal condition – keeping up on the housecleaning, losing our temper, fearing for the future, sharing a house with people you have to try to get along with. If someone does break the taboo and bring up something truly unpleasant we don’t know where to look or how to pretend that didn’t just happen.
So here in our virtual Sunday School, let’s not exempt ourselves. Let’s not have a discussion about “prideful people,” let’s have a discussion about us.
The prophet (in this case Alma) worried about the people of the church, because they were prideful, and also because they wanted the things of the world – your McMansions, your SUV’s, your wardrobe from Anthropologie. The reason this was a problem was not because anything is inherently wrong with Anthropologie, but because of how this thinking caused them to treat each other. People began to be scornful of one another and persecute each other, not based on anything about personality or character or behavior, but because of “their own will and pleasure.” The people of the church began to be so taken up in themselves that they judged each other for their own pet beliefs. Maybe it was philosophy, maybe it was politics, maybe it was just how they were raised or a culture clash. But instead of letting go of those things for the gospel of Christ, their pride made them cling tighter.
This is us. We are the people of the church. We love the things of the world, and who can blame us, there is a lot to love in this world. But do we love these things more than our fellow man? This could be a big anti-materialism lesson, or it could be as simple as who we sit next to in Relief Society. Do we judge someone because of how they dress (frumpy or fancy, either way)? Do we avoid someone because their family operates slightly differently than ours? Are we uncomfortable around someone from a different background? Of course we are. We do. I do. You do. We are prideful people and we are worrying Alma sick.
In so many ways I, and I’m guessing you, are the minority at church. A Democrat, a feminist, a gay rights advocate, I am adept at bearing up under the offense caused by the majority. But bearing offense isn’t enough. I have to eliminate the scorn from my mind. They have to eliminate the scorn they have for me. When I brought this up in Sunday School I said that I needed to keep this scripture in mind when dealing with my Republican friends. This got a huge laugh because the room was full of my Republican friends, and because those Republican friends are often so convinced of their rightness that they don’t think twice about bashing the president in Sunday School. They have to let go of that pleasure to be people of Christ. But as a member of the minority, I don’t get off the hook. I have to give up the pleasure of self-righteousness, of feeling like a victim, of pride in my magnanimity. It is only through giving up these personal pleasures and will that we’ll become a people worthy of the name of Christ.
