Come, Follow Me June 3-9: Mosiah 29-Alma 4
In 2024, the Maxwell Institute will offer a weekly series of short essays on the Book of Mormon, in support of the Church-wide Come, Follow Me study curriculum. Each week, the Maxwell Institute blog will feature a post by a member of the Institute faculty exploring an aspect of the week’s reading block. We hope these explorations will enrich your study and teaching of the Book of Mormon throughout the coming year.
The Ratatouille Principle: Or, Why Priestcraft Threatens Our Chances to Learn from Everyone
By J.B. Haws
There are many reasons to love the principle that the “preacher was no better than the hearer” (Alma 1:26). I want to speak in favor of one small such reason. I can’t stop thinking of it as “the Ratatouille Principle.”
The central thesis of the all-time great Pixar movie Ratatouille is “anyone can cook”—even a humble rat. But where the movie eventually ends up, in defining that thesis, is that “a great cook can come from anywhere.”
That, to me, seems to be one argument in support of the practice of the church in Alma’s day that all “left their labors” to hear from those who had been designated priests and teachers. That practice seems to be a manifestation of a deeply held belief that “a great teacher can come from anywhere”—from any field of labor, so to speak. And I think a similar belief animates—and should animate—our Church community.
This practice takes on even more meaning in Alma 1 because it is set in contrast to the arrangement that Nehor advocated. He wanted every priest and teacher “to become popular; and they ought not to labor with their hands, but that they ought to be supported by the people” (Alma 1:3). This approach has all kinds of implications, but one that seems to loom large is that it would limit the priestly and teaching roles to those people who were popular, which could be one way of saying that priests and teachers should only be those people whose gifts for teaching and leading were obvious or well cultivated or ingratiating—and on and on. This, Alma said to Nehor, was “the first time that priestcraft had been introduced among this people” (Alma 1:12).
What has been tugging at my mind is this priestcraft mindset that Nehor introduced more than any specific practice of this. This kind of priestcraft mindset could certainly prompt preachers to start to think that they are better than their hearers; they could become full of themselves. And that seems to be one key thing that Alma 1:26 speaks against. Yet one other perhaps more subtle danger of this priestcraft mindset is that it could flip the Alma 1:26 formulation on its head—it might lead hearers to esteem themselves better than some preachers, especially those preachers who seemed less worthy of support, who didn’t seem on face value likely to be “popular.”
It seems, then, that one key safeguard against falling into that mindset is holding to the Alma 1:26 model. The “leaving our labors” piece seems ever more important.
Alma 1:26 describes a church arrangement that is wonderfully familiar: “The priests left their labor to impart the word of God unto the people, the people also left their labors to hear the word of God. And when the priest had imparted unto them the word of God they all returned again diligently unto their labors.” This kind of part-time, volunteer, lay ministry is the lifeblood of our Church lives. I think it’s easy for all of us to feel deep gratitude for the scores of people in our lives who do this very thing, who set aside their day jobs to impart to us the word of God. What I want to ask myself is this, though: do I manifest my faith and gratitude by leaving my labors to really hear, so to speak?
A real faith in the “anyone can teach” principle is concretely demonstrated by how I, as a hearer, show up when it’s time to “hear the word of God.” I think it can be hard to put this precisely into words, but what I think we all might feel to some degree is that in today’s world of constant connectivity, “leaving our labors” can be more difficult—and can require much more intentional effort. Think of a Sunday School class, when we might be reading our scriptures on the same device we use to check our email or communicate with co-workers or check stock markets, etc. How can we better leave our labors behind for a time so that we are in a position to listen to what a Sunday School teacher or a sacrament speaker or a ministering sister or brother might have to impart to us? How might we be rewarded by showing our faith that a great teacher can come from anywhere, that we as learners truly do not esteem ourselves better—more informed, more sophisticated, more experienced, too busy, too sure that our time is more valuable—than the teachers who are set before us?
It might seem too simplistic to come to back to something like undivided attention as the answer, but that, in the end, feels like at least a good start. “Leaving our labors,” which in today’s world could include guarding against all kinds of workaday-type distractions, means that we give undivided attention to the preachers and teachers who are generously leaving their labors to give us their best, to witness their experience with the word of God. This is one way that we can manifest that we really do believe that the preacher is no better than the hearer, and vice versa, that we as hearers don’t give off signals that we think we are better than the preachers who are filling their callings and assignments.
The consequences of letting this slip are real. The contrast between the Alma 1 state of the church and the Alma 4 state of the church is sobering. Alma 4 is a wakeup call chapter. All kinds of problems beset the church because “the people of the church began to be lifted up in the pride of their eyes” (Alma 4:8). As troubling as anything was that the people of the church “began to be scornful, one towards another” (Alma 4:8). This line should stand out to us, it seems, because scornfulness starts as a mindset, a dismissiveness in the way we think about others and what they have to say, or what they have to contribute.
“Anyone can teach?!” Nehor might have us roll our eyes at the thought. Alma might say, ‘Leave your labors, really listen, and see what happens.’
