Safety Assured Leaving East of Medicetti

by Trish Mercer

  About Salem . . .

  It’s not socialism.

  It’s not communism.

  It’s not Marxism.

  It’s not any kind of -ism practiced in the world today, at least that I know of.

  But it used to be.

  People chose this lifestyle—willingly and openly. And there’s the key: choice.

  It cannot be imposed from the top down. It cannot be forced by any leadership or government. The choices cannot be made by someone elsewhere, and then the masses are compelled to follow. It cannot work that way, and actually work.

  That’s a dictatorship, no matter what happy label you slap on it.

  What I’m talking about is something much different.

  Anciently, it was a form of Utopianism. Plato and Sir Thomas Moore both wrote about the idea.

  Perhaps you’ve heard of Enoch’s Zion, the first known civilization to live like this, successfully for 365 years.

  It wasn’t the only one, either. King Melchizedek, to whom Abraham paid his tithes, ruled over Salem (the forerunner to Jerusalem, from where I took the name). They also lived this way for many years.

  As did Peter, James, and John after Christ’s resurrection, and all the disciples and Christians who followed them.

  As did a group of several thousands in the Americas, called Nephites. They lived this way for more than three generations after the resurrection of Christ, and never was there a happier people, according to their accounts.

  And they all did so by choice. I can’t overemphasize that. Choices, always.

  Many other groups have attempted this collective sharing and cooperation, with varying approaches to family and communal life. (In this book I depicted what I think is ideal: the family unit as the basis for the community—father, mother, children, and extended family as the fundamental building stones of society.)

  Some more recent examples of cooperative groups are the Transcendentalists, Shakers, the Jewish kibbutzim, and smaller groups of Mormons, who tried to live the United Order in the 19th century, but failed because of the same reasons most attempts eventually fail: envy and pride.

  The notion of a Salem-like life is widely appealing, I think, along with seeing everyone as equal. The problem, to paraphrase George Orwell, is that many of us want to be “more equal” than everyone else. Yes, let’s share everything, but give me just a tad more because I deserve it.

  This cynicism doesn’t mean we should abandon the ideal.

  In fact, every generation has had a few clarion calls for a community that truly acts as a community, as a family. Gene Roddenberry created Star Trek as a utopian-style society, where no money is exchanged, where everyone’s needs provided for, and where the purpose of life is to explore (except when those pesky Romulans invade the neutral zone).

  My writing this series is also a call for another try. An attempt to plant in your mind the idea that this has worked in the past, and it can work in the future, and can work even today.

  I reject the skepticism of the argument that while this worked in the past, and could possibly work in the future, it certainly can’t work today. I dismiss that because I know of a few people who already live as if they were in Zion/Salem. They willingly live with less in order to give more. I know of people who donate up to half, or more, of their incomes to those in need, and I’m sure there are many more out there who do so, but one of the most remarkable traits of such people is that they donate anonymously. They never call attention to their philanthropy, nor do they boast of their generosity.

  They have no pride, and no envy.

  The only reason I know about such people is because as I’ve researched this Zion-like lifestyle, I’ve been blessed to encounter those who live this way, who quietly choose to donate, or consecrate, all that they don’t need (and what they’ve decided they don’t “need” is truly inspiring and humbling).

  This has been their choice.

  They take to heart Christ’s admonition to not let the left hand know what the right hand is doing. They’re not the kind to want stadiums or university buildings named after them, because they don’t donate where their beneficiaries will ever know who they are; they donate to those who can never give them anything back.

  They live modestly, wearing untrendy clothing and driving old cars and not worrying about remodeling their homes (an attitude I greatly admire since I covet a new kitchen), because the majority of their incomes go to provide for those who struggle to pay hospital bills, or are out of work, or are rebuilding after a catastrophe.

  Occasionally you hear about them in the news, after they’ve died. The unknown millionaires in the small houses who lived unassuming lives and never did anything extravagant, but then willed their astonishing fortunes to something like an orphanage in a third-world country. (The only reason we know about it is because there are those relatives who are contesting the will because they want the money.)

  There are people among us now who live Salem-like lives, and they are my heroes. I personally can’t do this yet, because we’re still trying to become stable, and to pay off a massive student loan debt.

  But I’m trying to cultivate a Salem-like heart, which I think is the first step. And there are little things I can do, such as offer my books for free. Occasionally I do make a few dollars off of them, because of various promotions run by those who distribute my series, but then I donate every last penny to a humanitarian fund. I’ve been told that a few American bucks go a long way in India.

  This life can be lived. This community can be built. Many are already trying. Many have chosen to live for others, rather than for just themselves.

  I would love to see a real-life community of Salem/Zion, and I sincerely believe someday it will happen. I hope you choose to meet me there.

  To read more, noted scholar Hugh Nibley lectured extensively on the subjects of Zion, stewardships, and consecration. His speeches, which I borrowed liberally from, can be accessed here (for free, of course):

  https://publications.mi.byu.edu/book/approaching-zion/