I am struck by the different images we’ve had recently of people in search of a homeland. In a crowded and territorial world, displacement and disinheritance are the too-common results of disaster. I feel sympathy for the many different kinds of refugees spread out across the globe, some made homeless by weather catastrophes, some forced into exile by warlords and henchmen. And their troubles evoke a beautiful story in my mind, one that I’m surprised we do not verbalize more frequently.
A long time ago in an unknown land, a handful of missionaries visited a wicked people.
By many mighty miracles, the people were converted to Christ . They repented of their wickedness and murders, and to show their commitment, they covenanted with God never to shed blood again.
Their promise was soon tested. Invaders from a nearby kingdom bore down on them in war, and the missionaries questioned what the converts would do. Not one soul was willing to raise a weapon in self-defense. They prostrated themselves before their attackers and one thousand and five of them were slaughtered.
Seeing their danger, the missionaries implored them to seek refuge with a nearby righteous people– a people who had recently been their enemies. But the converted people were ashamed of their past wickedness, and would not. But God commanded them to flee to safety, and so they did.
Arriving on the outskirts of the great, righteous city, the converts sent messengers to request aid and comfort. They were willing to serve as slaves to their new benefactors. Came the reply: Worry not. We have a land for you by the sea between two of our great cities. You may take it, and build your homes and raise your families there. If you will give us a part of your substance for support, we will defend you with our own children, though you refuse to defend yourselves.
The land was called Jershon. The word means “inheritance.” The wanderers were not to be tenants or refugees here. They were home.
This little tale combines the Good Samaritan, the Prodigal Son, The Extra Mile, Les Miserables, and a thousand other morality plays in one, throwing in new motifs of charity, adoption, forgiveness and Zion. In short, it’s beautiful. I find it particularly striking in contrast to the seething homelessness of so many people today, and our world’s inability to absorb them graciously.
If Zion is that state of pure sociality most difficult to attain, Jershon is a near second. It would appear that this good-hearted cession and offer of protection could only occur at the height of two peoples’ righteousness. Where’s the sense in giving large swaths of strategically important and presumably fertile land to one’s erstwhile enemies, recently re-aligned and down on their luck? Why protect them with our innocent lives, when they have all the means of protecting themselves, but are committed not to because of their own overzealous devotion?
Can you see how impossible this action would be to any modern people, even the very best of us? A few pragmatists armed with some very rational arguments could destroy the whole fragile eneavor.
In the end, it was not a strong leader or prophet that made the call. Just like the Anti-Nephi-Lehies’ decision to seek refuge with the Nephites, the Nephites made their decision by the voice of the people.
Let’s not miss the result.
And they were among the people of Nephi and also numbered among the people who were of the church of God. And they were also distinguished for their zeal towards God, and also towards men, for they were perfectly honest and upright in all things, and they were firm in the faith of Christ, even unto the end.
Is this zeal and righteousness a result of their powerful conversion? Yes, no doubt. But I like to think it was also made possible by the stability they gained when the received an inheritance of their own. The Nephites lived in a land that they had an indisputable, divine right to– it was their promised land. The people of Ammon had nothing. They had rejected their own heritage, finding it empty, but could not lay claim on the distant legacy of their original, righteous forebearers. They depended on the mercy of Zion, and Zion was good for it. The people of Ammon inherited a land not promised, but theirs to keep nonetheless.
Now, when I think about those poor souls from Louisiana, Gaza, and Israel, Kurds, Tutsis, a thousand others, I wonder how we could create more Jershons today. How nice it would be if everyone had an inheritance.
Ryan, thanks for you interesting and timely insights.
Perhaps an interesting application of this is when refugees from other countries that are members of the church come into your ward. How do we treat them, do we try and make every effort to integrate them as part of the ward and not simply as part of the culture in which we live? Do we give them callings in spite of the language and cultural barriers? Do we have activities where all members can feel that thy are part of the ward and not part of the cultural aspect of the ward?
Recently, we had about 25 Spanish speaking members move into our ward, it is now close to 50, and we have had to work hard to integrate them because with such cultural and language differences which always seem to come to the forefront it made it hard to, yet we finally understood that, in spite of these things they offer something to the ward community that we didn’t have before and since that time we have been able to call them to be ward mission leaders, SS teachers, primary presidency members, etc. I would have to admit that because of this hard work, the ward has flourished in this regard and the Lord can trust us to take care of anyone that comes our way. They have told us also that in spite of the language and cultural diffs, they have been able to feel that the ward is a place of refuge or their current community ‘Jershon!’
I don’t think crowded is a good description of this world; but territorial, certainly. Of course, in a world where so many are reluctant to open up their own private “lands”/homes to refugees, it seems that much harder to imagine that this could be done on an even larger basis.
The most recent attempt at Jershon was the State of Israel. However, rather than choose a very lightly populated locale (place escapes me now) they opted for a hostile, but ‘legendary’ homeland, similar to the folks who left the Nephites to try and reclaim “ancestral” lands.
Similarly, post Civil War, most freed Slaves didn’t return to Africa, and the created nation of “Liberia” for them.
Adrian, thanks for those thoughts. This is certainly one application of the Jershon ideal. The important thing to remember is that we don’t just welcome people in and let them hang around near us. We actually give them something to call their one– let them have real ownership in the ward and its administration. Anyone can host a guest every now and then. The Nephites were willing to give and inheritance. It would be interesting to think of ways to give an ‘inheritance’ to newcomers to the ward, especially those who are very different from the rest of the unit.
Lyle, I’ve always thought the Israelis’ emotional appeals to the need for a homeland were amazingly empty, given how willing they were to displace others with an equal claim thereto. No, I don’t think Jershon can come at the expense of someone else who already lives there (as the quote linked from the title of this post aptly illustrates, I think).
Ryan, great post. This has always been one of my favorite parts of the Book of Mormon. I think, though, that the Anti-Nephi-Lehis should be characterized more as faithful than overzealous. My reading is that their refusal to take up arms was motivated by desire to not revert to their former ways, which were extremely violent, more than by pacifism per se.
Allison, I wholeheartedly agree. I’m sorry if my post seemed to indicate otherwise. My use of the term overzealous was simply as an epithet that could likely be used by a hypothetical Nephite opponent of the Jershon idea. In reality, it’s hard to find anything to criticize about these very good people.