Alex Douglas “Afterword: The Old Testament and the Book of Mormon”

Below is the Afterword from Alex Douglas’s book “The Old Testament for Latter-day Saints” (worldcat, amazon [not an affiliate link—I make nothing from it]). For full disclosure, while Douglas wrote the book as an active member he has since stepped away from activity (private communication).

AFTERWORD: The Old Testament and the Book of Mormon

Over the course of this book, we have seen how the Old Testament may be read through many different lenses: myth, advice, law, and history. For LDS readers, mentioning this final classification almost invariably draws forth the question: What about the Book of Mormon? Can we understand the Book of Mormon to be history—an accurate account of events that actually took place?

Before answering this question, I should clarify that Book of Mormon historicity is not my area of expertise. I am trained as a biblical scholar, and so my knowledge of Mesoamerican archaeology, for example, is limited to non-existent. Scholars’ conclusions are also limited by the quality and quantity of the available evidence. ‘The Bible may tell us a great deal about the world of the Bible, but it becomes less relevant when we move into the Book of Mormon.

With these limitations in mind, in my opinion, the findings of biblical scholarship do not bode well for the Book of Mormon’s historicity. The reasons for this conclusion break down into four main categories: text-based problems, anachronisms, ideas we would expect to find but do not, and lack of change. Let us briefly consider each of these.

Text-Based Problems

One of the most problematic pieces of evidence against the Book of Mormon’s historicity is the way it quotes from the Old Testament. The evidence is overwhelming that Isaiah 40–66 was written by a separate author during the exile, thus making it impossible for Book of Mormon authors to quote from these chapters—as happens in 1 Nephi 20–21, 2 Nephi 6–9, and Mosiah 12–15. Some LDS writers have tried for decades to prove that the entire book was written by Isaiah himself, thus solving the anachronism, but their arguments are roundly rejected outside of LDS circles.

Even if we set Isaiah aside, the Book of Mormon still refers to Old Testament texts in a way that is impossible given what we know about the Old Testament’s development. For example, when Lehi leaves Jerusalem in 600 BCE, he sends his children back to get the brass plates. Upon receiving them, he finds

that they did contain the five books of Moses, which gave an account of the creation of the world, and also of Adam and Eve, who were our first parents; And also a record of the Jews from the beginning, even down to the commencement of the reign of Zedekiah, king of Judah; And also the prophecies of the holy prophets, from the beginning, even down to the commencement of the reign of Zedekiah; and also many prophecies which have been spoken by the mouth of Jeremiah. (1 Ne. 5:11–13)

The “five books of Moses” clearly refer to the Pentateuch, but the Pentateuch was not compiled—nor indeed was the Priestly source even written—until well after Lehi would have left Jerusalem (see chapter three). There could not, therefore, have been “five books.” Further, the earliest indication that these books were ascribed to Moses does not surface until after exile.

“A record of the Jews from the beginning, even down to the commencement of the reign of Zedekiah,” seems to refer to the Deuteronomistic History, and while there most likely were editions of this history created before the exile, the idea that it would have been continually updated through the currently reigning king runs counter to everything we know about how and why this history was created (see chapter five).

“The prophecies of the holy prophets” being included on the brass plates is equally problematic. The Deuteronomistic History quotes and borrows extensively from dozens of sources, but not once does it quote from Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Amos, or any of the other prophets whose books are now in the Old Testament. Isaiah and Jeremiah, however, quote entire chapters from the Deuteronomistic History, meaning that they were written after the Deuteronomistic History—during exile. In fact, as we saw in chapter seven, different configurations of the book of Jeremiah circulated for centuries after Jeremiah’s death, which suggests that the book was written quite late. In contrast to the Deuteronomistic History, Chronicles, which was written after the exile, quotes from these prophets extensively. All of this suggests that the prophetic books were not compiled until well into the exile, which means they could not have been included on the brass plates.¹

The Book of Mormon supposes that a kind of proto-Old Testament—a compilation of everything dealing with life before the exile—existed in 600 BCE, but over and over again modern scholarship shows this supposition to be highly unlikely, if not impossible. Consider the fact that Lehi, Nephi, and Jacob are familiar with essentially the entire story of Genesis through Joshua: the seven-day creation story (Jacob 4:9); the Garden of Eden, including the later interpretive tradition that the serpent was the devil (2 Ne. 2:18); covenants with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (1 Ne. 17:40); the selling of Joseph into Egypt (1 Ne.5:14); Moses delivering the people from Pharaoh and crossing the Red Sea (1 Ne. 17:25–27); Moses receiving the law (2 Ne. 3:17); the miraculous provision of food and water in the wilderness (1 Ne. 17:28–29); the wilderness rebellions against God (1 Ne. 17:30); and the conquest of Canaan (1 Ne. 17:32–33).

The first difficulty here is that some of these narratives, such as the seven-day creation story, come from the Priestly source, which was not written until exile (see chapter three). Not only had some pieces of this story not yet been written, the continuous narrative itself—the story that moves from creation to conquest—did not exist either. Bits and pieces of this tradition circulated for a long time (see chapters one and two), but no one would bring it together into one coherent story until exile when the Israelites compiled their traditions into the grand narratives we know today. To see this, you need look no further than Jeremiah, who was contemporaneous with Lehi and yet who claims that “in the day that [God] brought your ancestors out of the land of Egypt, [he] did not speak to them or command them concerning burnt offerings and sacrifices” (Jer. 7:22; see also Amos 5:25 and the discussion in chapter seven). While Jeremiah talks frequently about the law that God gave the people (see Jer.2:8; 5:4–5; 8:8; 9:13; etc.), he never mentions Moses in connection with it—because that story had not yet been formulated. In every writing we have from before the exile, the traditions from the primeval history and the patriarchal narratives are practically never mentioned. No one talks about Adam and the Garden of Eden, no one mentions the Tower of Babel, and no one talks about Joseph’s sojourn in Egypt. The traditions existed, but they were not part of a larger salvation history that people could draw from.

Scholars do not know everything about the world of the Old Testament, but everything they do know indicates that the brass plates could not have existed as Nephi describes them. Even their form is anachronistic. In the ancient world, any text longer than a few lines was written on scrolls that were rolled up. The idea of writing a text on separate pages and binding them together into a codex did not come about until the Roman period, around the first century CE. But the Book of Mormon describes the text taken from Laban not as a scroll, but as metal “plates.”

The fact that these texts were written on metal makes the story even more implausible. Literacy was rare in the ancient world, and before the age of printing, creating and writing a scroll by hand was mind-bogglingly time-consuming and expensive. To get a sense of how difficult the process was, try copying out the first chapter of Isaiah by hand; but first make a long piece of “paper” by killing a sheep, removing all the hair, drying out its skin, and smoothing the surface as best you can. Then use a pen that you constantly have to dip in ink—and make the ink yourself. Of course, they did not have pristine, computer-printed texts to work from, so try copying the text from a faded, handwritten document. And do not work too fast; any mistakes you make are essentially permanent. Now time yourself, multiply that by 929, and you can start to get a sense of how long it would take to copy out the entire Old Testament. If that sounds expensive and difficult, just imagine how long it would take—and thus how expensive it would be—to carve the text into metal sheets thin enough that, together, they could contain the entire Old Testament story without being too heavy to carry.² And all this would be to preserve a set of stories that Jeremiah barely seems to even know exists. In short, the idea of a codex containing the biblical stories—much less a codex made of metal—is so unlikely as to be practically impossible.

Anachronisms

The textual issues described above, such as Nephi quoting Second Isaiah and having access to an anachronistic form of the Old Testament, pose a significant problem for the ancient historicity of the Book of Mormon. But these issues are relatively minor when compared with the other anachronisms spread throughout the book. By anachronisms, I am not referring to minor issues such as Nephi’s “steel” bow or the presence of horses and sheep in the Americas; I am talking about anachronistic beliefs. From an academic perspective, it is these that place the Book of Mormon unquestionably outside the realm of history.

The basic problem may be summed up as follows: the theological worldview of the Book of Mormon is entirely that of nineteenth-century Christians, not that of ancient Israelites 600 years before Christ. To cite the most obvious example, Book of Mormon prophets focus on the expectation of a Messiah, but such a belief did not exist in Lehi’s time. A Davidic monarch still ruled in Jerusalem and the Kingdom of Judah was independent. Why, in these circumstances, would people hope for a future Davidic king to restore the throne and deliver Israel? It was only after the Babylonian captivity that such a hope even began to take shape—and even then, it took centuries before that expectation developed into the full-blown Messianism of the first century CE. If you look through the King James translation of the Old Testament, you notice that the word “Messiah” is conspicuously absent, only appearing twice in the book of Daniel, which is the Old Testament’s latest book. In the New Revised Standard translation, the word “Messiah” does not appear at all. Yet before Lehi has even arrived at the promised land, he is teaching his family about “a Messiah, or, in other words, a Savior of the world” (1 Ne. 10:4).

Not only do the Nephites expect a Messiah, they expect a particular kind of Messiah. As we saw in chapter ten, during the first century CE there were many ideas about who the Messiah would be—a king or a priest, an angel or a human, a political or religious leader—or even whether there would be more than one Messiah. Yet the Nephites believe in a Messiah who would be the Son of God (1 Ne. 11:7), who would offer himself as sacrifice (Alma 34:10) to atone for the sins of the world (Alma 33:22), and who would rise from the dead after three days (Mosiah 3:10).

Their view of the Messiah is also decidedly trinitarian. Abinadi teaches: “And because [Christ] dwelleth in flesh he shall be called the Son of God, and having subjected the flesh to the will of the Father, being the Father and the Son—The Father, because he was conceived by the power of God; and the Son, because of the flesh; thus becoming the Father and Son—And they are one God, yea, the very Eternal Father of heaven and of earth” (Mosiah 15:2-4).³ This idea of Christ being both Father and Son, as “one God,” was common in nineteenth-century Christianity but completely absent in sixth century BCE Israel.

The Nephites also believe in the existence of Satan, though, as we saw in chapter six, the concept of Satan did not arise until the Persian period (sixth to fourth centuries BCE), most likely under the influence of Zoroastrianism. The Nephites further believe that the afterlife is divided into two kingdoms: the righteous “inherit the kingdom of heaven” (Alma 5:51) while the wicked go “down to hell—yea, that great pit which hath been digged for the destruction of men” (1 Ne. 14:3), “an endless torment” (Moro. 8:21), “that lake of fire and brimstone” (2 Ne. 9:19). This view certainly was not Israelite. If you recall from chapter nine, the Israelites during Lehi’s time believed that everyone ended up in Sheol. The concept of heaven and hell do not appear until near the end of the Old Testament period, the earliest indication being in the book of Daniel, likely written in the second century BCE. This view lines up precisely, however, with a nineteenth-century Christian view of the afterlife.

Similarly, baptism did not emerge until the end of the Old Testament period. As we saw in chapter nine, before the Babylonian captivity, Judaism was not conceptualized as a religion to which a person could convert, so there were no conversion rituals such as baptism. No one in the Old Testament is said to be baptized, and archeological evidence of “fonts” for ritual washing do not appear until close to the time of Jesus. Yet Nephi preaches “repentance and baptism by water” (2 Ne. 31:17). He even inserts baptism into Isaiah 48:1, which is more anachronistic still (2 Ne. 20:1). The Book of Mormon assumes that baptism was a regular part of Israelite religion at the time that Lehi left Jerusalem, in contradiction to every piece of evidence we have from that period as well as everything we know about Israelite religion at that time.

The Book of Mormon further presumes that the Jews worshiped in synagogues. As early as Nephi, we hear how Christ has not “commanded any that they should depart out of the synagogues” (2 Ne. 26:26). The Zoramites likewise have synagogues; they even “gather themselves together on one day of the week, which day they did call the day of the Lord” to worship (Alma 31:12). But this kind of communal worship did not evolve in Judaism until the end of the Old Testament period. Synagogues themselves do not appear in either the archeological or the literary record until shortly before the time of Christ.

The theological issues debated in the Book of Mormon would have made no sense to an ancient Israelite audience. For example, universalism, the idea that God will ultimately save all his children in heaven, rears its head frequently. Nehor preaches “that all mankind should be saved at the last day, and that they need not fear nor tremble, but that they might lift up their heads and rejoice; for the Lord had created all men, and had also redeemed all men; and, in the end, all men should have eternal life” (Alma 1:4). Zeezrom and Amulek debate whether you can “be saved in your sins” (Alma 11:37), and Alma’s son Corianton is chastised for his belief “that it is injustice that the sinner should be consigned to a state of misery” (Alma 42:1).

This entire debate is predicated on a view of heaven, hell, repentance, and judgment that is completely foreign to the Israelites. In ancient Israel, salvation was a matter of God protecting the community in this life. There was no concept of someone going to heaven in the next life. Individuals did not repent by confessing their sins or having faith in a Son of God. This debate better fits in a nineteenth-century context when Christians were clashing over the universalist movement that had emerged a few decades earlier.

Christians during Joseph Smith’s time also wanted to know whether, or how, a just God could condemn unbaptized children and righteous unbaptized adults to an eternity of suffering. (See, for example, the reaction Joseph Smith’s family had upon the death of Joseph’s oldest brother, Alvin.) Israelites would not have even understood the terms of this debate, much less its underlying assumptions, yet Mormon writes to a community that is supposedly having “disputations … concerning the baptism of your little children” (Moro. 8:5).

The Book of Mormon’s anachronistic beliefs would take an entire book to list. Nephites believe in a “high priesthood of the holy order of God” (Alma 13:6) though even early Christians did not distinguish between two priesthoods. They also believe in both a first and a second resurrection (Alma 40:17-25) though the concept of communal rebirth does not appear until Ezekiel (Ezek. 37)—and the idea of an individual’s body and soul coming back together does not appear until close to the time of Christ. They believe that faith is a power through which a person can perform miracles (Alma 44:3) though “faith” in the Old Testament is used exclusively in the sense of “faithfulness” or “fidelity.” The idea of faith as a power only came about during the New Testament period, as seen in Jesus’statements that faith could move a mountain (Matt. 17:20). They advance the notion that those cursed by God are given a “skin of blackness” (2 Ne. 5:21). This idea, based on an interpretation of Ham’s curse in Genesis 9:25–27, did not come about until at least the Middle Ages and did not become prominent until the advent of slavery. The Nephites further believe that Adam and Eve’s actions in Eden resulted in a fall, “which was the cause of all mankind becoming carnal, sensual, [and] devilish” (Mosiah 16:3). The Brother of Jared believes that “because of the fall our natures have become evil continually” (Ether 3:2). But the concept of a fall, along with the idea that Adam’s sin let death into the world and that the serpent was actually the devil, did not develop until the time of Christianity.

Book of Mormon characters, in short, share every major aspect of their theological worldview with nineteenth-century Christians. Their ideas, assumptions, and debates presuppose developments that would not take place for centuries, if not millennia, after Lehi left Jerusalem.

One common apologetic response to this evidence is that the Nephites received their Christian worldview through revelation. But revelation cannot resolve these difficulties for two reasons. First, if the Nephites received their doctrine through revelation, why does this revelation always mirror nineteenth-century Christian beliefs rather than twenty-first-century Latter-day Saint beliefs? For example, if Lehi previously believed in Sheol but was taught by an angel about the true nature of the afterlife, why should he be taught about heaven and hell instead of the three degrees of glory? Why should the Nephites believe that God curses people with black skin—a common belief among Christians of Joseph Smith’s time—when the LDS Church now “disavows the theories advanced in the past that black skin is a sign of divine disfavor or curse”?⁴ Why should they believe that Jesus Christ and God the Father are “one eternal God” (Alma 11:44; see also 2 Ne. 31:21, Mosiah 15:4, 3 Ne. 11:27, and Morm. 7:7) rather than the later LDS view that God the Father and Jesus Christ are separate beings? If the Book of Mormon prophets received their beliefs through revelation, then they received a very specific iteration of Christian belief that is no longer accurate considering subsequent LDS revelation.

The second reason an appeal to revelation cannot adequately address these anachronistic beliefs is that, generally, the Book of Mormon does not present this knowledge as coming through revelation. It is true that Book of Mormon characters often talk about their belief in Christ as coming from angels and the Spirit, but the vast majority of these anachronisms are simply presented as part of the Israelite religion from whence the Nephites came (see, for example, worship in synagogues or the attribution of baptism to Isaiah).

Simply put, according to the best scholarship we have, the theology presented in the Book of Mormon does not fit the state of Israelite theology in 600 BCE.

Ideas We Would Expect fo Find but Do Not

The Book of Mormon has nothing to say about any traits or practices we would expect to find among sixth-century Israelites. Take, for example, observing the law of Moses.⁵ Upon his arrival in the Americas, Nephi writes that “we did observe to keep the judgments, and the statutes, and the commandments of the Lord in all things, according to the law of Moses” (2 Ne. 5:10), yet aside from occasional mentions of the law, there is nothing distinctively Mosaic or even Israelite about what the Nephites observe. Aside from the Ten Commandments, not a single law is quoted or appealed to, including any mention of dietary considerations or how purity laws might apply to animals in the new world. Indeed, the Israelite concept of purity and the annual pilgrimage feasts of Booths, Weeks, and Passover—all central pillars of Israelite religion before exile—are never even mentioned.

If you recall from chapter four, the single most important command in Deuteronomy (which Lehi would likely have had access to) was to centralize worship, prohibiting all sacrifice outside the temple. But Lehi offers sacrifice in the wilderness outside Jerusalem (1 Ne. 7:22). Nephi builds an entirely new temple (2 Ne. 5:16) without mentioning that they would need a priest or Levite to officiate in the temple—a real problem since Lehi’s family was descended from Manasseh. The law regarding centralization of worship was so important that every king in 1–2 Kings is judged on the extent to which he follows it. Thus, it seems very strange that upright Nephi would make no mention of why they repeatedly violated this commandment.

The Davidic covenant was likewise central to early Israelite religion; in many ways it eclipsed the Mosaic covenant at Sinai. But aside from Nephi’s quotation of Isaiah, the Davidic covenant is never even mentioned in the Book of Mormon. Indeed, the only reference to David occurs in the book of Jacob, where David is condemned for his “many wives and concubines” (Jacob 2:24). Otherwise, this central piece of Israel’s religion and culture is entirely missing.

The transition from judges to monarchy was a pivotal moment for Israel because, as we saw in chapter five, kings became the de facto head of the temple cult. Israel’s salvation came to be imagined in terms of a future king, and God came to be understood as a king reigning over Isracl. The king became God’s adopted son and stood as a mediator between God and the people (unlike the Mosaic covenant at Sinai, which conceptualized Israel itself as God’s son). When the Nephites make the reverse transition, from kings to judges, beyond a passing mention that bad kings could lead the people to wickedness, there is no acknowledgement of how central kings were within Israelite religion, nor is there talk of any religious realignment as the Nephites move from monarchy to judges. In over 500 years, from the beginning of the reign of the judges to the end of the Book of Mormon, the transition to judges has no discernible impact on the Nephites’ concept of God, salvation, or any other aspect of their theology.

None of this is to say that the various authors and editors of the Book of Mormon could not have left those parts out, but doing so would be akin to, for example, a group of Mormons isolated on Mars deciding to ignore the Word of Wisdom, abandon temple worship, and restructure top church leadership without leaving anything in their official record about why they did so or without leaving any later evidence of how those changes affected their theology and religious practice.

Lack of Change

The fact that the shift from kings to judges had no impact on Nephite theology brings up one of the Book of Mormon’s most problematic issues: the lack of theological change over time.

Biblical scholarship has uncovered huge amounts of change over the history of ancient Israelite religion. The early Israelite worship of El and the patterning of the patriarchal stories after the myths of Ugarit (see chapter two) contrast sharply with the strong condemnation of Canaanite religion that arose during the monarchic period. “The laws regarding slavery, rape, and manslaughter show significant differences as we move through time, from the Covenant Code in Exodus to the Holiness Code in Leviticus (see chapter four). The very nature of Israelite religion changed with the exile, with Judaism becoming separate from nationality and political affiliation. Then, after the exile, we see the emergence of Satan, a budding belief in heaven and hell, the advent of Messianism, and the reimagining of the Davidic covenant along Messianic lines. The Israclite religion of 1000 BCE bears only passing resemblance to the Jewish religion of 1 CE.

Such significant change over a thousand years is not strange at all. The theology of both Judaism and Christianity changed drastically from the year 1 CE to 1000 CE, and similarly from the year 1000 CE to now. Even the LDS Church has changed profoundly since 1830. It reimagined polygamy; instituted and then revoked a temple-priesthood ban on those of African descent; dropped glossolalia; corporatized the institutional church; implemented correlation; ceased the law of consecration; emphasized temple work as part of regular worship; codified the Word of Wisdom; and largely dispensed with rituals such as women’s blessings, the second anointing, baptism for health, and anointing before childbirth. The church of the early nineteenth century differed drastically from the church today.

However, the religion described in the Book of Mormon exhibits no such shifts. The theologies of Nephi and Moroni are indistinguishable, even though the two characters are separated by more than one thousand years. Think about that for a moment; not a single Nephite belief shows significant change from 600 BCE to 400 CE. Heaven and hell, resurrection, the final judgment, the Atonement, faith as power, the Godhead, baptism, angels, the structure of the church, the Millennium, the requirements for salvation, the fall—every single one of these beliefs remains unchanged.

The Book of Mormon’s historicity also hinges on the historicity of stories such as the Tower of Babel. If there were no actual Tower of Babel where God confounded humankind’s languages, then Jared and his family could not have prayed to be spared or ultimately made their way across the sea to found the Jaredite civilization. But as we saw in chapter one, the Tower of Babel story is a myth, inspired by the towering temples of Babylon. The stories from the primeval history (Gen. 1–11) are not history in the same way that the Deuteronomistic History is. These stories are similar to the myths passed down by any ancient civilization.

Mormonism without Mormon

It is true that Old Testament scholarship is not flawless; it cannot give us a 100 percent definitive verdict on the Book of Mormon’s historicity. However, everything we know about the Old Testament undermines the idea that the Book of Mormon recounts the lives of historical people. From its reliance on an actual Tower of Babel to its many anachronistic beliefs, from the difficulties involved with the brass plates to its unchanging nineteenth-century Christian theology, every indication is that the Book of Mormon story is not ancient history.

Latter-day Saints often talk about the Book of Mormon as the keystone of our religion, that if we take the Book of Mormon out, the entire arch will crumble. If the Book of Mormon is not a historical text, does that then leave us with no religion? Does Mormonism depend on a historical Mormon, Moroni, and Nephi?

Imagine that question framed this way: Did Israelite religion depend on the truthfulness of the stories in Genesis through Deuteronomy? The Pentateuch, after all, gives the account of how Yahweh created the world and chose Israel from among all the nations. If that foundational story had turned out to be untrue, would that have negated the Israelite religion?

In modern times, we tend to judge religions based on the reliability of their truth-claims: if Mohammed spoke to God, then Islam must be true; if Jesus rose from the dead, then Christianity must be true. Israelite religion turns out to be based upon some shaky truth-claims. As we saw in chapters two and five, the evidence that Israel actually emerged from an Egyptian Exodus and conquered the Canaanites is problematic, to say the least, and the farther back before the Exodus we go, the more their history blends into myth and legend. But does that mean that the Israelites never experienced God’s presence in their lives? I think they would vehemently disagree, considering the hundreds upon hundreds of pages in the Old Testament that recount their religious experiences. Countless millions of believers in this tradition—Israelites, and later Jews and Christians—have experienced God, and no analysis of the Bible’s truth-claims will change that fact.

If the purpose of religion is to convey facts, then, yes, the reliability of a religion’s truth-claims is of utmost importance. But if the purpose of religion is something else, such as bringing people closer to God or binding communities together, then truth claims ultimately do not matter.

Does a non-historical Book of Mormon mean that Mormonism is untrue? I cannot deny the problems I see when I examine the Book of Mormon through the lens of biblical scholarship, but I also cannot deny the experiences of millions of Latter-day Saints as they experience God in their lives. What a non-historical Book of Mormon does mean, however, is that Latter-day Saints need to reevaluate how we think and talk about it. Maybe the value of our religion lies not in how many facts we have about God, but in how much good it prompts us to do in the world. Or maybe it lies in the comfort that the plan of salvation can bring to those who mourn, or in the way it brings us closer to God, or in the strength of the community we build together. In the King James Version of the New Testament, James describes “pure religion” as “to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world” (James 1:27). I may be in the minority of Latter-day Saints by holding this opinion, but I wonder if letting go of the historicity of the Book of Mormon may be exactly what is needed to more closely approach the “pure religion” spoken of by James.