This is a compelling story about the experiences of a fictional representation of the very real brother of Nephi, Laman. In the first three installments, Laman expresses his opinion about the compelling need for his father, Lehi, to spread the beliefs that he thinks come from God. Below is the beginning.
Admiration for Father and the Days of Saul
I, Laman, have the dearest admiration for our father, Lehi. He and Mother have earnestly sought after our welfare all the days of our lives. Father attends the sacrifices at the temple faithfully and speaks of the great beauty of the House of Israel, of Zion’s glory, and of the blessings bestowed upon our people as God’s chosen. I understood Father then, as he spoke of the glory of Zion and the eventual conquest of Judah over all its foes.I took great satisfaction in the thought that one day our people would be wealthy and wise as in the days of Saul, the greatest and most favored servant of God. Saul was too holy to have another of his line take his throne, so it was handed to David. Father would argue that God rejected Saul, but I, Laman, do not see the logic in this—seeing that Saul, a great man of God, offered sacrifice to God himself. To me, it seems honorable to remember Saul as the great leader he was and as the shining example of our kingdom at its greatest.
My lack of interest in the history of Father’s religious interpretations changed one night when he confided in me a vision he had experienced. That vision I will relate hereafter, but first, I proceed with my sayings.
A Prophet in the Courtyard
I was about with my brothers, Lemuel, Sam, and Nephi, with the sons of Ishmael, Joshua and Zenos, attending some festival at the temple. Rumors of strange men and women frequenting the temple gates to prophesy and warn the people of some great travesty of God in Israel flooded the streets of Jerusalem like sandstorms during the dry seasons.
As we stood in the courtyard waiting for the priest to reappear, a group of these so-called holy people entered the gate and stood lamenting about the destruction of the temple and the captivity of the people of Jerusalem.
All went quiet as one of those people spoke, a prophet of some repute—Jeremiah. Nephi, bold and headstrong as ever, was the first of our group to speak. He seemed to want to gain our admiration since he was the youngest of our company.
His whisper to us hissed across the court: “But Father has said that Israel would be redeemed and free of its oppressors.”
I yanked his arm roughly. That type of speech was not looked upon lightly in those days of war between Egypt and Babylon. Any such words could be judged treason and bring death upon the house of our father. As the eldest son and executor of the estate, I had to protect the legacy of the house. Saying such things outside the privacy of our home placed us in jeopardy.
I am certain Nephi did not take the hint, for as the eyes of the people—including Jeremiah’s—scanned the murmuring crowd to see who spoke, he spoke again, this time directly to Jeremiah.
“Why do you say such things, and by what authority do you speak?”
I nearly lost my senses with the lad.
“Sir, I know your face,” Jeremiah said, squinting as the mid-morning sun struck his eyes while he strained to see my brother. “What quorum of elders do you represent?”
“Holy messenger,” I said quickly, realizing that a group was slowly forming around us as Jeremiah mistook Nephi for something more than he was, “he is but a lad, young and unlearned, and he knows not his place to speak to a teacher as you. Please forgive his impunity.”
The people murmured more. I could feel the heat rising in my chest. I wanted then to give that child Nephi lashes! He looked to me with an apologetic smile as Jeremiah nodded and continued to speak, lamenting to the crowd. The crowd soon forgot our part and turned again to jeering or supporting the messengers of the Lord.
I smote Nephi upon his arm as we weaved through the murmuring crowd toward another exit from the inner court to the outer court of the people where the gentiles were allowed. Yet when I smote Nephi it did not seem to bother him. For someone so young he had grown into such a strapping beardless man. So I smote him again, just for good measure.
“Why would you bring such attention to us in this place, knowing that any talk good or bad on this matter could bring imprisonment or, worse yet, death for the entire family?” I hissed to Nephi.
“My father has spoken of Jerusalem as a place for a grand affair, yet this prophet speaks of destruction. Does it not bother you, Eldest Brother?”
“Nephi, this Jeremiah is the High Prophet of all in the land. We do not dispute with him. The social implications alone are enough to warrant silence when such men speak. You speak as if Father knows better, or has said otherwise, than the prophet of the very God of Israel.”
“Laman, that was not my—”
“Nephi,” Lemuel curtly interrupted, “I would remind you that our father is a man of principle and business. He has said little of these teachings. He only concerns himself with the business of this family, which Laman will soon completely oversee.”
“I notice that Joshua and Zenos quietly slipped away from us four brothers,” Sam said, snatching my attention away from Nephi for a moment. “That was a wise choice.”
Brothers, Business, and Belief
Nephi, being the youngest, never experienced the struggle that Lemuel, Sam, and I did as we built the family fortune together through trade and scribal work. Father taught us to write for him as he copied scrolls for noblemen from Egypt and Jerusalem. With his blessing, I had begun the same business in Babylon as we expanded our enterprise. I never delighted in reading and bookwork as did Lemuel and Nephi, but I could speak the tongues of the sea and the regions near and far—or at least a few curses in each if nothing more.
“I believe Nephi was excited about the prospect of finally meeting one of these prophets and could not contain his zeal,” Sam offered, always to Nephi’s defense.
“Sam, you will defend his every embarrassment,” I chuckled, letting the startle of the situation pass, seeing that no real harm had been done—or so I thought.
I embraced Nephi and kissed him to let him know that I am his dear brother and thought to settle the matter. We had a family to protect and a business to run. I did not want disunity to cause us to suffer as many of our past kings. Jealousy over power and leadership would not occur, for I would let all the family know that I would not sell my birthright of leading the family. I would not be the weak link in our lineage.
A few of my business associates glanced at me and smiled as we walked about. I hoped that no one would hold against us Nephi’s words about such a hotly debated political issue, when in truth our business depended on both schools of thought for profit.
It was not desirable to take a position, either for or against Jerusalem’s success or destruction. Personally, I thought all would be well. I wanted only to keep the family enterprise stable for my posterity as the firstborn, to carry Father’s name for the House of Israel.
I should have known that Nephi would be the source of intrigue from that moment on. I, his eldest brother, took him under my wing to provide instruction for him once he reached the age of manhood. He often attended to my duties with me, learning boldness from me. Father was not a bold man outside of business. Though he was on the council of elders, he did not speak of holy things except at home and among our friends.
Nephi would listen to me for long periods, interpreting Father’s ranting about unimportant things with wide eyes. He respected me as his teacher and ruler, the eldest, and honored my sayings—even those with which he disagreed. I loved Nephi. I still love him.
After the incident in the courtyard, things became strange. It was as if there was an omen in Nephi’s actions. Having traveled all the land, I had an unrestricted view of religion and perspective that most in Jerusalem did not. To me, religion was a matter of preference and tradition. I chose to associate with Adonai, but I thought to teach my children of all the gods I had come to know, that they might have choice, unlike Father. I offered supplication to the Egyptian goddess Renenet for prosperity and wealth, in addition to my prayers to Adonai, since most of our dealings occurred with Egypt. Why not pay homage to her gods occasionally?
Men fared according to their strengths and weaknesses. Religion seemed to give us a common purpose to work together for the good of the community. That was good. But I did not let religion govern my business. Wealth cannot be earned from an invisible idol—or from the many I purchased during my travels.
Father said we worshiped the true God. I accepted it as my heritage, but I found comfort in gods I could see and worship in their presence. Out of honor for Father, I never brought my sacred idols to his attention. I had to keep the family stable. It would appear strange for the eldest son to dishonor his father by taking up another belief while he yet lived. Yes, such an act was punishable by death. I would never betray our family so long as my father lived to see it.
