Decoding "I Believe" from the Musical "The Book of Mormon"

This particular entry is less a story and more a service project directed at you non-Mormon lovers of musical theatre. Mormons are big (one might say immense) on performing service. For my act of service, I'll decode the song "I Believe" from The Book of Mormon.

The Tony Awards were presented last night, and The Book of Mormon won a slew of awards, including the one for best new musical. Since there is so much profanity in The Book of Mormon, there was a lot of guessing before the awards about which number from the show would be presented as the showcase song during the televised ceremony. It turned out to be "I Believe," a touchingly funny song sung by Elder Price after he reclaims his faith and recommits himself to his missionary work. As is true for many things in the musical, this particular number is a lot more enjoyable (and a lot funnier) if you understand the references. The creators of the show (who are not themselves Mormon) clearly did their homework, and in this particular entry I'll do yours for you (think of it as reciprocal service - yours to me can be sharing this post). Below are some of the more inaccessible lyrics from "I Believe," with explanations (and explications) straight from Sunday school (yes, Mormons have Sunday school as part of their three-hour block of meetings on Sundays).

I believe that the Lord God created the universe.
I believe that He sent His only Son to die for my sins.
And I believe that ancient Jews built boats and sailed to America.
I am a Mormon, and a Mormon just believes.

The first two and last lines are pretty straightforward, but it's nonetheless worth noting that, whatever mainstream Christians may think about the soundness of Mormon doctrine, Latter-Day Saints do literally believe that God is the creator and that God sent his son, Jesus Christ, who took upon him the sins of the world and atoned for the sins of all mankind. But it's surely the third line that catches the attention of most folks. That third line is a reference to The Book of Mormon (the book), which purports to be a record of ancient Israelites who, guided by God, crossed the ocean and landed in the Americas. The book opens around 600 B.C. with a prophet by the name of Lehi (pronounced Lee-hi) who, inspired by God, leads his family out of Jerusalem to the Promised Land (that's what America is, after all). According to Mormon belief, Native Americans are in part descendents of these Israelites. Incidentally, the name of this blog you are reading comes from an L.D.S. children's song called "Book of Mormon Stories" that talks about these ancient Isrealites crossing the sea. It is sung to the beat of a pseudo-Indian (that is, Native American) drum rhythm. In retrospect, the actions that we were taught to do as we sang the lyrics when I was a child were a bit offensive. We patted our mouths quickly with one hand and held two fingers up behind our heads like feathers whenever the word "Lamanites" (prounounced "Lay-mun-ites," with the stress on the first syllable) came up in the song. Laman (Lay-mun) was a son of Lehi, and Mormons believe his tribe is the one from which Native Americans are descended.

I believe that God has a plan for all of us.
I believe that plan involves me getting my own planet.
And I believe that the current president of the church, Thomas Monson, speaks directly to God.
I am a Mormon, and a Mormon just believes.

The plan of which Elder Price sings is the "Plan of Salvation," a central component of Mormon theology and a mainstay of the "discussions," or lessons, that Mormon missionaries present to "investigators," or those interested in hearing about the church. The Plan of Salvation maps out where humankind was before the creation of the earth, why we come to earth, and where we might go after death. In short, there was a war in heaven, and everyone who is born on this earth chose the side of Jesus over the side of Satan (who revolted against God and his firstborn son, Jesus). Because we chose the side we did, we are born and gain bodies. We are tested here on earth by having our memories of the preexistence removed from us. If we live by faith and do our best, then we may, because of Jesus's sacrifice, have our sins atoned for us and, in a resurrected state, return to God. There are different levels of glory after this life, and the best of the best (those who end up in the highest level of glory, called the Celestial Kingdom) may continue to progress throughout eternity, until they reach Exaltation. That is, they may at some point be exalted to become gods and goddesses themselves. Mormons believe that marriage between a man and a woman is so important because only through eternal couplehood is Exaltation possible. God, a loving father, wants his children to have all that he has. Since he has created worlds (including the one we happen to live on), the most faithful of his children might, at some point in the eternities, have that opportunity as well. If exalted, Elder Price (along with his eternal companion, his wife) would in fact get more than just his own planet; he would create his own worlds, his own humankind, and his own Plan of Salvation. Mormons know about all of this because there are, since the restoration of the true church by Joseph Smith, living prophets who continue to speak to and for God. Thomas S. Monson (Mormons are big on including middle initials or middle names when referring to church leaders) is the current mouthpiece of the heavens.

I believe that in 1978 God changed his mind about black people.
You can be a Mormon, a Mormon who just believes.

In fact, people of African descent could be Mormons before 1978, so Elder Price's line to the African warlord about his ability to be a Mormon would have been true even in 1977. Before 1978 black people could be baptized into the church and attend Sunday services. But until an official church proclamation in 1978, black men could not hold the priesthood (which is a lay priesthood, meaning all worthy male members hold some office of it), and black people could not enter the temple (the place Mormons go for the most holy rituals, such as eternal marriage). In other words, those of African descent had second-class status in the eyes of the church, and the greatest promise of all, Exaltation, was not available to them. The proclamation that did away with this inequity was issued by Spencer W. Kimball (note the middle initial), who was the president (and prophet) of the church in 1978. His proclamation is included in all post-1978 editions of Doctrine and Convenants, the book that contains modern-day (or latter-day) revelations (Joseph Smith's revelations make up the vast majority of that book). Black folks were singled out because they were believed to be the cursed descendents of Cain. Other peoples of color were not singled out. In fact, Native Americans and Latin Americans have historically been sought out by Mormons, since it is believed that these groups have the diluted but real blood of Israel in them (see above).

I believe that God lives on a planet called Kolob.
I believe that Jesus has his own planet as well.
And I believe that the Garden of Eden was in Jackson County, Missouri.
If you believe the Lord will reveal it.
And you'll know it's all true; you'll just feel it.

Joseph Smith did teach that God, who is an exalted man, has a physical presence (one we mortals can neither see nor truly comprehend), and that the closest planet to him is one called Kolob (pronounced Coe-lob, with the stress on the first syllable). For the more precise of you out there, you should note that Joseph Smith never taught that God lives on Kolob itself. Incidentally, there's a really beautiful part of Zion National Park (in Southern Utah) that is called Kolob Canyon. If that's what heaven looks like, sign me up for some Celestial glory (but don't make me take a wife!). As for the bit about Jesus having his own planet as well, I have to admit that that particular line confounds even me. Either these non-Mormon writers know something I don't, or they just went a little overboard. I will say that Mormons believe that God created many worlds (and many universes), and that Jesus is a co-creator. So maybe it's something to do with that. And now for the really interesting part: Missouri. Yes, Joseph Smith did teach that the Garden of Eden was in present-day Jackson County, Missouri, specifically in and around the town of Independence. (Obviously the flood that Noah survived moved things around a bit, and postdiluvian Old Testament events happened in ancient Israel. So Lehi and his family were really just getting back to their roots by crossing the ocean to the Americas.) When Adam and Eve were expelled from the garden they ended up in a place Joseph Smith called "Adam-Ondi-Ahman," which is in Daviess County (a few counties over). This area, which is today owned by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, is rolling farmland with a river running through it. I went there on a church history trip as a teenager, and it was there that I first saw fireflies (there are no fireflies in Utah), so it's a pretty magical place in my memory. The name "Adam-Ondi-Ahman" is supposedly from the ancient "Adamic" language (that is, the language that Adam spoke), and its meaning is usually given as something like "the place where Adam dwelt with God." Both Independence and Adam-Ondi-Ahman were gathering spots for Mormons in the early days of the church (they were forced from place to place a lot; Missouri was particularly unkind to the Mormons, with the governor of that state declaring war on them). Mormons believe that the Saints (that is, members of the church) will again gather in Missouri when Christ returns. Independence, in Jackson County, will be the New Jerusalem (this in addition to already being the childhood home of Harry Truman). And how, might you ask, can Mormons believe all this? Well, Elder Price gives a solid missionary answer. Mormons believe that you can pray to God and ask whether these teachings are true. He'll reveal it to you through a warm feeling, and when he does you'll know that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God and that his teachings are true. You'll know that the book of scripture he brought forward, The Book of Mormon, is the word of God. You'll want to join the church he established. And if you want to go hardcore (converts are always the worst...), you'll probably want to prepare for the Second Coming (of Jesus) by purchasing land in Missouri, which could offer an incredible return on your investment: a whole planet of your own!

If They Don't Drink Coffee, How Do They Wake Up?

Mormons don't drink coffee. The reason they don't is something called the "Word of Wisdom," which is the name given to the 89th section of Doctrine and Covenants, which also requires some explanation. Doctrine and Covenants is a book of teachings and revelations received and written down by Joseph Smith (with a few notable exceptions at the end that have come from Latter-Day Saint prophets after Joseph Smith and have been added to the collection in subsequent editions). Yes, besides translating ancient scriptures from gold plates buried in the ground near his childhood home, Joseph Smith also wrote brand new scripture from scratch. His teachings and the revelations he received from God are compiled in Doctrine and Covenants and treated as modern scripture by Mormons, who proudly note that God is still speaking to man.

Smith's writings contained in the 89th section of Doctrine and Covenants begin by identifying the section as a "word of wisdom," and through popular synecdoche those words have come to mean for Mormons all the teachings about food and drink contained in the section, along with the clarifications on those teachings that subsequent church leaders have given. The prohibitions include alcohol, tobacco, coffee, and tea. Actually, the section itself says that "hot drinks" are prohibited, but church leaders after Joseph Smith have made clear that "hot drinks" means coffee and tea. "Hot drinks" doesn't mean soup. (A friend of mine once told me that she met a Mormon who wouldn't touch soup because of the Word of Widsom; I had never, ever heard of such a thing before.) Coffee and tea are prohibited, regardless of the temperature at which a Mormon might wish to drink them. The color in which they come doesn't matter, either - green and white tea are still tea, so they're out. Herbal teas, which don't actually contain tea, are fine.

Coffee is the one that throws most folks for a loop when they hear about the Word of Wisdom for the first time. Inevitably someone will ask why. Mormons will try to come up with pseudo-scientific reasons, but I think the best answer to that question is simply that God (or at least Joseph Smith) said so. Another common question is, "What about decaf?" The answer to that one is, "Avoid even the appearance of evil." Besides, neither Joseph Smith nor the leaders of the church after him have ever officially said, "You can't have caffeine." You probably find this confusing, and so do Mormons. On church-owned properties, such as Brigham Young University or the Missionary Training Center, no caffeinated soft drinks are sold or dispensed. A lot of Mormons take that to mean that caffeine is a no-no. But it ain't necessarily so. You can, for instance, find hot chocolate (which contains some caffeine) on church-owned properties. A lot of Mormons won't drink caffeinated sodas, but plenty will, and there are no privileges of church membership lost by doing so. Indeed, there's a joke that "jack Mormons" (think of the term as the equivalent of secular Jews) and in-the-know non-Mormons love that drives this point home: "What's the difference between members and non-members? The temperature at which they drink their caffeine." Lots of Mormons drink Coke. There's even a rumor out there that the church owns a lot of stock in Coca-Cola. And in the rural valley where I grew up, plenty of Mormons drank Mountain Dew - especially the young men. Mountain Dew was, in a way, a sign of rural Mormon masculinity, much like driving a truck jacked up high over gigantic tires, complete with a gun rack in the back window. In fact, the can of Mountain Dew would finish the look by being placed in the truck's cup holder. In my house we weren't allowed to drink caffeinated sodas. Well, we weren't until I was a teenager, when somehow or another my mother discovered and became addicted to Diet Coke. Then we were allowed. I myself went through a serious Dr. Pepper phase in my teens. And I was still allowed to pass (and, later, bless) the sacrament.

Since Mormons aren't supposed to drink coffee, it can take on the same kind of forbidden coolness that cigarettes or alcohol can for other teenagers. In high school, I belonged to a somewhat rebellious crowd, and we'd signify our cool (if careful) rebellion by casually mentioning to our peers that we drank coffee. A favorite place to go was the Village Inn (or V.I., if we wanted to sound especially cool), a chain of diners down in the city below that were open late. You can hardly imagine the kind of responses that would be elicited by a bit of conversation that sounded like this: "What did I do last night? Oh, some friends and I went out for coffee at the V.I." The listener's eyes would grow wide and breath would be sucked in, and the edginess and cool factor associated with the speaker would rise considerably. Coffee was bad enough to make you cool, but not so bad that you were written off altogether as one who had gone hopelessly astray.

I myself threw out the claim of drinking coffee a good number of times in high school, but the truth is I never really developed a taste for the stuff, and I still don't drink it. My preferred poison back then (and even now) was iced tea. In an area that was at the time probably something like 99% Mormon, I managed to make friends with the one bona fide non-Mormon in my age group (she came out as a lesbian right after high school, so my seeking her out was probably inevitable for a number of reasons). She was of Catholic stock, although her family didn't seem to practice any kind of religion. Why she and her family ended up in Utah, let alone rural Utah, is still a bit of a mystery. But one glorious mystery they did reveal to me was the pleasure of iced tea. This family took a special sinners' delight in providing me my fix each time I went over to their house. Once, when I was grounded, my friend even sneaked a big plastic mug of the forbidden drink to me. I convulsed the whole time I sipped it alone in my room, but my shakes were probably due more to my fear of being caught than any caffeine deprivation I was experiencing.

So, if Mormons don't drink coffee (or tea), how do they wake up in the morning? Why, with family prayer and scripture reading, of course. That's how we did it in my house. We also had herbal tea or Postum. (Now off the market, Postum was a coffee-like instant warm drink make from wheat. It was a hit in my family, and my parents still have a stockpile of it in their basement fruit room.) And on those truly bad mornings, when the eyelids won't open even for scripture reading, there are Mormons who might just start the day with a can of Coke or Mountain Dew. They just hope that the scripture reading doesn't involve section 89 of Doctrine and Covenants – or, if it does, that their caffeinated soda is ice-cold.

Mormons and Musicals

There is a new musical on Broadway called The Book of Mormon, and it can best be described as the perfect show for agnostics who love songs written by Oscar and Hammerstein and jokes told by seventh-grade boys. My partner and I caught a performance a couple of weeks ago, and we thought it was entertaining. I'm an occasional watcher of Comedy Central's long-running cartoon series South Park, which a few years ago offered a very funny treatment of the Joseph Smith story (recounted when a disturbingly perfect Mormon family moves in to the town of South Park). Because the South Park creators wrote and directed The Book of Mormon, I had high hopes for the show's hilarity.

It was outrageously funny in places, mostly in the first act. The "Turn It Off" number, with some terrific tap dancing done in the dark, was about the need for Mormon elders to bury their doubts and earthly desires for their two-year stint as missionaries – and for one elder in particular to bury his homosexuality. For obvious reasons it was a particular favorite of mine. So was "I Believe," a song sung by a doubting elder who regains his faith and lists the more interesting aspects of Mormon theology that he dutifully believes in. "I Believe" in two places samples "I Have Confidence" from The Sound of Music, and there are references to other Oscar and Hammerstein shows in the numbers (the "Uncle Tom's Cabin" bit from The King and I is alluded to in a part where the Ugandan Mormons retell the Joseph Smith story). The songs overall were terrific: catchy and fun and sung with a kind of gee-willikers earnestness that is laughable but endearing – and definitely Mormon.

Halfway through the second act, however, the total lack of constraint on obscenities and on taboos began to seem more like a liability than an asset to the show, and I realized that part of the reason the South Park episode about Mormonism was so fun was because television (including cable television) imposes some limitations. By the end of The Book of Mormon it became clear that even a musical about how misguided and potentially harmful religious constraints are can nonetheless benefit from artistic constraints.

Tickets for the show are expensive and hard to come by, but it's safe to say that this show's success is definitely not due to a high turnout by Mormons converging on the Great White Way. Like Jews, to whom they are often compared, Mormons enjoy musicals, humor, and attention (although, to be sure, Mormons' preferences in all three areas tend to be much simpler and more conservative than those of American Jewry). But this musical comedy about Mormons is not for Mormons. And, although Mormons wouldn't find them to be faith-promoting, the show's humorously deprecating references to the Joseph Smith story or to the stories within The Book of Mormon (the book) are not the real problem here. Instead, it is the show’s blasphemy and scatology that Mormons cannot abide.

But even if you cut those elements, Mormons would still have their own preferred theatrical treatment of the story of The Book of Mormon (the book) for New York audiences. Each summer in upstate New York, near the boyhood home of Joseph Smith, the church puts on the Hill Cumorah Pageant. Named by Joseph Smith, the Hill Cumorah is the place he said he dug up golden plates, from which he claimed he translated The Book of Mormon. According to Smith, a man named Moroni (pronounced more-OH-nye) was the final prophet and writer on the plates (and, incidentally, the son of Mormon, the chief compiler of the records and the prophet in whose honor the book is named). Mormons believe that Moroni buried these golden plates around 421 A.D., and that he then appeared to Smith as an angel and in 1827 guided Smith to the place where the plates were buried. It was, conveniently, close to Joseph's boyhood home and, as later Mormons would discover, a good place for an outdoor pageant.

Pageants are to Mormons what passion plays were to European Christians a century or two ago, and Utah Mormons don't have to go east for their pageantry. In Utah there is the Mormon Miracle Pageant, which also features parts of the story of The Book of Mormon in a pageant that is performed right on the temple grounds in the small town of Manti (pronounced Man-tie). When I was very young, the young adults group in our ward (that's the Mormon word for congregation) organized a trip to the Manti Pageant (as we called it), and my sisters, who were young adults, took me along for the ride. Actually, it may be more accurate to say that they were made to make me along for the ride. My parents were big on sending me along as a very young chaperone on my sisters' outings and even on their dates. This one was just an outing, but there were also going to be plenty of young men heading to the pageant, which was a full three hours away going at full freeway speeds (and Manti wasn't even at the other end of the state; Utah is a big place). I remember being pretty amazed by the spectacle of the pageant – especially by battle scenes and by a death scene where they showed the spirit leaving the body. The special effects may not have looked as good to my older sisters, who seemed more interested in the various young men who were seated on blankets near us.

Mormon pageants are huge, outdoor productions, but Latter-Day Saints are also fans of good old fashioned American musical theatre. Every family I knew growing up loved Oscar and Hammerstein shows, and men loved musicals as much as women did. When I was in music class in middle school, the music and band teacher told us about a trip he and his family had taken to Salzburg, Austria, years back and the sites they had seen from the movie version of The Sound of Music. All of us – boys and girls – sat spellbound by his descriptions of these places we knew so well from the yearly screening of that film on television. Oscar and Hammerstein shows were so much a part of our lives that, strange as it might seem, no one had much to say to me when I was a young boy and would belt out "I'm Just a Girl Who Can't Say No" from Oklahoma. The only person who ever seemed particularly nervous about it was my mom, but she heard my rendition on constant rotation for about six months. Hearing a boy sing it once was one (minor) thing; hearing your own boy sing it day and night with saucy actions to the words was no doubt something else entirely.

When the high school did a production of an Oscars and Hammerstein musical, it was, far and away, the biggest (and, really, only) show in town. The entire middle school was brought to see it. So was the elementary school. My oldest siblings were in South Pacific, and my older siblings did Oklahoma. I saw both of those shows not only during evening performances with my family, but also during the school day when we took a cultural field trip across the street to the high school. I myself had a major role in Caroursel when I was in high school, and everyone at school and at church talked about it for weeks. The entire community showed up for the productions, and some standout performances are still discussed years later. Just as a winning play that sent the high school football team to state competition entered the town's lore, so too could a winning Ado Annie (my dream role, but, alas, because it had been done just a few years before, we couldn't do Oklahoma when I was in high school, and, even if we had, gender-blind casting was not allowed).

Oscar and Hammerstein shows are safe, but they aren't homegrown. So, as you might expect, industrious and devout Mormons have written their own musicals that incorporate Mormon themes and characters. My Turn on Earth and Saturday's Warrior are the two most well known and most popular, and both draw heavily on the Plan of Salvation. The Plan of Salvation is the Mormon teaching about the progression of each of us from a spiritual pre-existence with God to an earthly existence where we gain bodies and are tested (our memories of the pre-existence are taken from us, so it's not as simple a test as it might otherwise be!) and then to an afterlife where we are judged and, eventually, resurrected. It may not sound like the stuff musical comedies are made from, but Mormons love these shows. One of my sisters was obsessed with Saturday's Warrior, and she (and, therefore, I) could sing any of the songs from it by heart. They're not all cheerfully upbeat numbers, either; like any successful show, this one has trials and tribulations and dark numbers. For instance, Jimmy, the wayward teenager in Saturday's Warrior, starts hanging out with the wrong crowd, and of course there's a musical number about this. You might suspect that the song is about drinking and drugs and sex – you know, all the things teenagers might be tempted by. But in fact this very wrong crowd sings about something even more dangerous to a young man: a belief that overpopulation is real, and that it takes a serious toll on the earth and on humanity. I'm not making this up. It's unlikely if you live outside of Utah, Idaho, Arizona, or Nevada, but if Saturday's Warrior ever plays nears you, you must see this masterpiece. In the mean time, a staged film version was released a number of years ago.

The creators of the musical The Book of Mormon have said that they'd like to see their show play in Salt Lake City. I think that's more likely than a real Mormon musical (or pageant, for that matter) playing on Broadway. The Book of Mormon wouldn't have a long run in Salt Lake, but some people there would surely want to see it. Salt Lake now has a good number of non-Mormons and "Jack Mormons" (that's the term for inactive, non-practicing Mormons - you might think of the term as the Mormon equivalent of a secular Jew). But The Book of Mormon isn't a show that could be staged by high schools and seen by the entire community. And for the Mormon mainstream, whether in small towns or larger cities, if it doesn't pass the high school test, it isn't good entertainment.