Moroni and Loneliness

by Autumn Dickson

Moroni understood the concept of loneliness. Even before all of his people were wiped out, Moroni practiced his beliefs on his own except for his father. He likely found himself surrounded by his peers, unable to connect with them because of gaping differences in beliefs, desires, and values. People probably didn’t understand him, and though he loved his people, he probably still felt awfully alone.

And then came the genocide.

Moroni was the last Nephite prophet to live upon the land. He had the authority to lead the church on the earth, and yet, he was the last one in the church to lead. According to the institute manual, Moroni lived for 36 years after that last battle between the Nephites and Lamanites in which all of his loved ones were destroyed. He lived alone in the land except for the Lamanites who were trying to kill him because he wouldn’t deny the Christ.

Like I said before, Moroni knew the concept of loneliness. Let’s talk about a couple of things that might have been adjacent to this loneliness.

He thought he was done with the work

Moroni wrote a couple of things in his father’s book after his father died. He then abridged a record of the Jaredites. After completing this specific work, he thought he was done.

Moroni 1:4 Wherefore, I write a few more things, contrary to that which I had supposed; for I had supposed not to have written any more; but I write a few more things, that perhaps they may be of worth unto my brethren, the Lamanites, in some future day, according to the will of the Lord.

From previous writings, we know that Moroni didn’t feel like a very strong writer. It wasn’t his forte. Perhaps he was a great soldier, considering the fact that he outlived everyone else who was destroyed. He was a survivalist as he spent decades alone. Honestly, I’m the exact opposite. I can write, but I’m pretty sure I would have died within the first couple of weeks of being on my own trying to avoid getting killed. Moroni had his talents, and perhaps writing really wasn’t one of them.

It didn’t matter though. He was the last Nephite prophet, and because of that, the Lord had some work for him to do.

I wonder if Moroni wished he didn’t have to do it. I wonder if he looked at the records and knew that there was plenty of doctrine. Moroni saw our day, and he likely saw the restoration of the gospel. He chose to include some of the ordinance wording and instructions despite the fact that he knew these things could easily be restored through Joseph Smith. There were a great many ways that the teachings of Moroni could have reached us without him having to deal with it on top of everything else he was dealing with.

It wasn’t like he could just hide the plates in a compartment in his car and run off with them at the first sign of trouble. Moroni had to protect the plates, find time to “write” in them, and he did all of this on top of his grief. He fulfilled his prophetic role while simultaneously doing everything that was needed to simply survive.

The Lord doesn’t choose to give work according to what’s convenient. It’s simple enough for him to enable us throughout our circumstances. Rather, He gives us work that we need.

Though Moroni did not feel like a strong writer, and though he had plenty of other things weighing on his mind, I can only imagine how these extra responsibilities turned into a blessing rather than a hindrance. It might not have felt that way at first, but I imagine that this process made his 36 lonely years bearable.

Consider what Moroni had to abridge within the record of the Jaredites. The people completely destroy each other at the end, but there is one prophet left: Ether. Ether was left behind by the rest of the people so that he could witness what had happened and record it. Moroni recorded the last words of Ether:

Ether 15:34 Now the last words which are written by Ether are these: Whether the Lord will that I be translated, or that I suffer the will of the Lord in the flesh, it mattereth not, if it so be that I am saved in the kingdom of God. Amen.

Ether may not have been standing directly in front of him, but here was a deep connection between the two men. Both men knew what it was to watch their people destroy each other unnecessarily. They had watched their people drown in violence rather than heed simple warnings. They had both been left to observe it and record it for future generations.

Obviously, I’m pulling in details that may or may not have happened, but imagine Moroni for a moment. Imagine him trying to be strong, even as he is alone and drowning in grief. I imagine him asking the Lord, “So how do I die then? How long do I remain here and then what is the end? Why am I still here?” And then imagine him finding those last words in the records. “It mattereth not, if it so be that I am saved.”

Moroni knew what it meant to be saved. He knew the Savior. He was a strong and good man. But most of us know what it means to be saved. Most of us know the Savior and are strong and good people. However, how many times have we still needed those reminders in the midst of grief? How many times have we needed those tender mercies regardless of the knowledge that the Lord had already given?

Moroni didn’t want to write. He didn’t think it would necessarily help anyone because he didn’t believe he was a good writer anyway. He had other things on his mind, and yet, I can’t help but wonder if the writing saved him time and again as he was given opportunities to reflect on the Lord. I wonder if the responsibility to write and abridge records is what gave him the strength he needed to finish his work on the earth.

The sacrament

As I mentioned already, Moroni was a prophet to himself. He didn’t have a church to lead, but he still had the authority to perform ordinances even if they were just for himself. If he followed the pattern of weekly sacrament meetings, then Moroni took the sacrament alone approximately 1,872 times. Perhaps it wasn’t weekly, but we know that the church was the same in ancient times as it is now. Moroni took the sacrament often enough to renew his covenants.

The responsibility to write and abridge blessed him, but I also wonder if these regular ordinances strengthened him.

Every week, he was reminded of the Lord’s atonement. The Lord’s atonement is so broad and infinite, and yet, it was also individual and specific. The Lord knew Moroni’s loneliness. He knew Moroni’s fear. He knew what it was to lose a father, to lose your entire people to violence. Each week, or at least regularly, Moroni was given an opportunity to remember that he wasn’t truly alone. Regularly, Moroni was given an opportunity to remember that the deepest tragedies can be healed by the Savior. He was given opportunities to remember that he would be reunited with his father as well as other believing Saints. He would be given an opportunity to connect with Ether the prophet who so poignantly understood his pain.

The same goes for us.

Oftentimes, I believe that Satan likes to compound our mortal miseries with making the church feel like a burden. He likes to whisper in our ears that we’re too depressed, weary, lonely, and anxious to go and partake in regular worshiping activities. I know he’s whispered those things in my ear. Satan has most definitely tricked me into believing that life was too heavy, and he has definitely whispered that I didn’t need to participate every single time.

And to an extent, he’s right. He does love to give partial truths. Missing the sacrament one week doesn’t have to knock your entire eternal life off balance.

However, the real problem with his whisperings is the idea that these worship activities are burdens. The times in my life where worshiping has felt like a burden almost always point back to the fact that I’m “worshiping” wrong. I’m going through the motions. I’m fulfilling church duties. I’m doing it because I’m supposed to.

In other words, I’m not even truly worshiping; I didn’t make it about the Savior at all! The times that I have felt like “worshiping” is a burden are the times that I have taken the Savior out of the entire equation. When I actually keep the Savior in the ordinance or worship activity, they are always a blessing. When I actually remember Him, I remember all He has given and all He continues to give. I remember what He sacrificed and felt on my behalf. I remember the opportunities He has provided me with to become like Him. I remember that I’m not alone in my grief, and I remember that He has the capacity to provide happy endings.

So go to church. Take the sacrament. Go to the temple. Wear your garments. Read your scriptures. Speak to Him and listen for Him. And more importantly than anything else, include Him. If you truly include Him in those activities, you will find the same blessings Moroni felt in the midst of his grief, uncertainty, and loneliness.

I know these things to be true.

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. Autumn was the recipient of FAIR’s 2024 John Taylor Defender of the Faith Award.

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