Hearts of the Zoramites

by Autumn Dickson

In the chapters for this week, we read an interesting account about some Nephite dissenters known as Zoramites. These Zoramites had stopped following the Law of Moses and taken to a new form of worship that astonished Alma and the other missionaries. Once a week, on the “day of the Lord,” the Zoramites would gather at the synagogues they had erected. Then, they would all take turns standing up and reciting the same prayer. After this worship experience, they would head home, never speaking of their worship again until the next time they gathered in the synagogues. Here is some of the prayer they would recite:

Alma 31:16-17

16 Holy God, we believe that thou hast separated us from our brethren; and we do not believe in the tradition of our brethren, which was handed down to them by the childishness of their fathers; but we believe that thou hast elected us to be thy holy children; and also thou hast made it known unto us that there shall be no Christ.

17 But thou art the same yesterday, today, and forever; and thou hast elected us that we shall be saved, whilst all around us are elected to be cast by thy wrath down to hell; for the which holiness, O God, we thank thee; and we also thank thee that thou hast elected us, that we may not be led away after the foolish traditions of our brethren, which doth bind them down to a belief of Christ, which doth lead their hearts to wander far from thee, our God.

Many of us scoff at the idea of the Rameumpton, this great standing place where each of the Zoramites would offer the same prayers. And yet, are we really so different? Observe some of the actual problems these Zoramites were dealing with. The concept of rote prayers was not actually the problem; we have plenty of ordinances and ceremonies that are to be performed with the same words over and over.

No, the actual problems of the Zoramites were found within their hearts. For example, they only thought about God once a week. Their hearts were set on money. They didn’t believe in Christ. They believed they were special, better than others because they believed they had the truth.

All of us are guilty of these issues to one extent or another, and if you think you’re not, then you should probably pray for the Lord to open your eyes. Do we keep Heavenly Father in our minds, allowing Him to participate with us throughout the week? Do we set our hearts too heavily on things that can’t fulfill us? Do we believe in Christ to the fullest extent in which it influences all of our actions, uplifts all of our worries, and turns our hearts towards others?

And then, of course, there’s the last one. The Zoramites believed they were better because they believed they had the truth. Hmmm. This is the one we’re going to talk about today. We believe we have the truth. Our doctrine is pretty straightforward and frequently taught. We believe that the Lord restored the true gospel and true authority through Joseph Smith. We believe we belong to Christ’s church.

Do we also believe we’re better because of it? Our jerk reaction may be to say no! Logically, we may understand that we’re not better, but has that understanding penetrated our hearts to the extent that we see others clearly?

There are many ways that this particular attitude can manifest. It can manifest in how we treat others who belong to other systems of belief, in how we approach missionary work. It can manifest in our attitudes regarding whether we can learn from other belief systems and whether we recognize the Christlike attributes of those who do not yet know Christ.

Interestingly enough, it can also manifest within our own system of belief. Sometimes we believe we have more truth, more understanding, and more obedience than those who share our same faith. “More” is a relative term that can cause lots of problems. It can be difficult to measure “more,” not to mention, there are millions of different experiences that offer new perspectives and require varying levels of strength. Let’s talk about it.

Inside the church

Sometimes, we think we’re better because we see ourselves as living the gospel more accurately than others. Even if this is true in regards to observing the outward performances and standards of the church, our hearts are going to be what’s judged at the last day. And if we’re harboring and inadvertently nurturing thoughts that we’re better (rather than actively fighting against and rooting out those beliefs), then we’re going to be the ones with a problem.

There was a point in my mission where some of my mission leaders weren’t being exactly obedient. None of us are perfectly obedient; I understand that concept. However, I had noticed the issues and I also saw that some of the other non-leader missionaries had noticed the issues. I remember it being difficult. Some of these missionaries were trying to be really obedient and were meeting minimal “success.” They watched their leaders baptizing often enough and training them in our frequent meetings, but they also watched their leaders doing things we had been asked not to do.

I remember taking this problem to the Lord. I was angry. These non-leader missionaries were righteous missionaries who felt like they were being swept aside even though they were trying hard to do what’s right. These were righteous missionaries who had started asking, “Why bother?” when their leaders weren’t even following the rules and seemed to be met with success.

This was actually a huge turning point in my life. I was filled with what I believed to be righteous indignation towards these leaders who were being bad examples. As I opened the scriptures for my personal study, I found that I was about to read the story of the stripling warriors. I was a little excited because I felt justified in my anger as I thought about the exact obedience of these young soldiers.

But boy was I in for a different lesson than I was expecting.

As I read the story about these young men, the Spirit rather forcefully whispered to me that if these missionary leaders had been in the position of the stripling warriors, we would be reading the same story. They would have been exactly obedient. My eyes filled with tears as the Spirit also whispered that I had no idea what some of these missionaries had sacrificed to go on a mission. I was floored.

Who was I to think I was better? I had happily married parents (which actually makes all the difference in the world). I had been actively taught the gospel and protected from nefarious influences as I was growing up. I didn’t have much trauma. I wasn’t worried about my family back home and whether they were okay. I had never struggled to overcome serious sin because I hadn’t even really had an opportunity to commit serious sin. The gospel was handed to me on a silver platter. I was given a lovely environment to learn about it and love it. A huge majority of my experiences with the gospel were positive.

What these missionary leaders had chosen to do of their own accord with minimal support was awe-inspiring. They had pushed much harder and farther than I had ever had to push. They had to build up a strength that had never been required of me.

And this happens all the time. When a youth has a difficult time being reverent, when an adult is rough around the edges, we can be guilty of this. We think they should know better. We scoff that they can’t get it together. And yet, we never stop to consider how we would be acting if we had grown up in their shoes with their perspectives and experiences.

This doesn’t mean we treat them kindly and then feel proud of ourselves for being charitable to people who we’re actually viewing as lesser. No. This means we pray for eyes to see them clearly and step back as the Lord shows us what we couldn’t see on our own.

The tricky part

Now this is all a little bit tricky. We’re taught to share our light, to love those who need support, and to share the message of repentance. All of these messages can intrinsically hold some measure of, “I’m better than you and need to share all of my righteousness with you.” This is exactly the attitude that turns so many people off.

So how do we accurately apply these principles of sharing our own light while simultaneously sloughing off attitudes that we’re so great?

I have 1000% been guilty of this sin. I have worked to reach out to those who weren’t as “strong” and been proud of myself for being compassionate and giving them all of this fantastic advice about being more righteous. There has been one understanding that has really helped me work towards casting out this inaccurate attitude.

This understanding can easily be defined as, “I don’t really know. Maybe I think I know, but I don’t really know.”

In a more concrete analogy, this would be like looking at someone next to me at the gym and assuming I’m stronger because I’ve done more reps. It would be me arrogantly walking over to encourage them that they can do more reps, faster reps, and still have plenty of energy like me. Awakening to a proper understanding of the world around me would look like the realization that this person I was trying to bless is actually lifting five times the weight that I’ve been lifting.

There are times when it’s appropriate to correct. Even when someone is lifting ten times your body weight, it can still be helpful to tell them that locking their knees isn’t going to help. However, the delivery feels so different when you simultaneously have the realization and respect that’s due for what they’re carrying. I think it’s also helpful to recognize that sometimes the most helpful thing you can do is realize and respect what they’re carrying.

I had another mission leader who used to do exchanges with us. At the end of exchanges, you’re supposed to tell the missionary what they’re doing wrong and then also encourage them a ton in what they’re doing right. This sister missionary was likely very wise when she taught me that she rarely told people what they were doing wrong. In her words, “People already know what they’re doing wrong. You don’t usually have to tell them.”

I have found this to be true. There will be times when you’re encouraged by the Spirit to correct. However, I believe that a grand majority of the time, you’re going to find you’re more effective at helping someone when you genuinely seek out their friendship with a deep and abiding knowledge that they’re children of God, regardless of whether they’re different from you. Not only are you more effectively helping them, but you’ll find that your life is much more blessed and full for having known them and learning from their example too. I have found that if I’m applying this principle correctly, I feel like I’m the one who’s blessed for knowing them and not the other way around.

I believe in a Savior who loves us. I believe in a Savior who judges perfectly according to our experiences and gifts. I believe that if we can recognize and cast out our own attitudes that reflect the Zoramites, we’re going to find a much fuller life because we’re going to be blessed by people we didn’t know we could be blessed by.

Autumn Dickson was born and raised in a small town in Texas. She served a mission in the Indianapolis Indiana mission. She studied elementary education but has found a particular passion in teaching the gospel. Her desire for her content is to inspire people to feel confident, peaceful, and joyful about their relationship with Jesus Christ and to allow that relationship to touch every aspect of their lives.

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