The Sacred Paradox: Girard, Violence, and the Book of Mormon

We wrestle daily with the tension inherent in mortality: the opposition Lehi so plainly declared (2 Nephi 2:11). The prophets have warned us repeatedly against the dangers of creeping corruption, the subtle seductions of the natural man. Yet, even in our striving for righteousness, the echoes of primal patterns reverberate. How readily do we fall into cycles of rivalry, competition, and ultimately, violence?

Alan Goff’s *A Stop to the Shedding of Blood* provides a framework for understanding these cycles, drawing upon the insights of René Girard. Kevin Christensen’s recent Interpreter Foundation podcast offers a compelling review of Goff’s work, tracing Girard’s theories and their application to Latter-day Saint scripture.

Girard’s core observation, as Christensen details, is that human desire is not autonomous; it is mimetic – we desire what others desire. This mimetic desire inevitably leads to rivalry, and rivalry, unchecked, escalates into violent conflict. Societies, desperate to quell this violence, resort to scapegoating – identifying an individual or group as the source of the problem and directing collective anger upon them, thereby temporarily restoring social order. The tragic irony, Girard argues, is that the scapegoat is often innocent.

The contrast Girard noted between ancient myths and biblical accounts is particularly striking. Myths routinely portray the scapegoat as demonstrably guilty, reinforcing the lie that their suffering resolved a genuine transgression. The Bible, however, increasingly exposes this deception, revealing the innocence of figures like Joseph and, most profoundly, Jesus Christ. This recognition, Girard believed, was central to his own conversion.

What makes Goff’s work so valuable is his nuanced engagement with Girard’s theories. He doesn’t blindly accept Girard’s framework as an absolute truth, recognizing its limitations and the need for careful application. This mirrors the very spirit of inquiry Joseph Smith championed—proving contrarieties to reveal truth. As Christensen points out, Goff’s approach aligns with the Prophet's insistence that we test all things, and hold fast to that which is good (1 Thessalonians 5:20).

Applying Girard’s lens to the Book of Mormon reveals a complex tapestry of mimetic rivalry and fleeting resolutions. Consider the disputes among Nehor’s followers, the conflict between Laman and Lemuel and Nephi, even the tensions within the Zoramite society. These narratives aren't simply historical accounts; they are allegorical portrayals of the universal human struggle against primal impulses.

However, it's crucial to remember that Girard's theories are tools, not pronouncements. To treat them as a rigid dogma would be to fall into the very trap of creeds Joseph Smith warned against. The Restoration offers a path beyond the cycle of violence, a covenant that transcends the scapegoat mechanism. The temple, the priesthood, the Atonement—these are the means by which we can break free from the inherited patterns of destruction and embrace a higher law.

Goff’s work, and Christensen’s review, invite us to grapple with uncomfortable truths. It challenges us to examine our own mimetic desires, to recognize the potential for violence within ourselves and our communities, and to actively seek the covenant path that leads to peace.

Consider this: where do you see echoes of mimetic rivalry in your own life, within your family, or within the ward?