Moroni 1 - 6

 . . . . the process of creating order and meaning out of a text--especially when we recognize that we are doing it, and doing it thoughtfully--is one of the ways that the Spirit can teach us as we meet together in the words of scripture. Engaging with scripture is an active, creative process, and collaborative thinking with a text is itself a sacred work. 

Rosalynde Welch - "Sharing the Sacrament with Moroni at the End of Time." Maxwell Institute Blog. https://mi.byu.edu/news-blog-section/moroni-1-6-sharing-the-sacrament-with-moroni-at-the-end-of-time

Despite its disparate elements, Moroni’s book has a unifying theme: how to find peace in the midst of social disintegration. This was a challenge Moroni himself had faced as he saw his civilization collapse, and he believes the lessons he learned from history, his father, and his own revelations will someday be useful to the descendants of the Lamanites. His first answer is to become part of a well-regulated religious community that conducts its affairs according to Christ’s teachings and the power of the Holy Ghost (chs. 2–6). Grant Hardy, The Annotated Book of Mormon. 

The first two theological declarations of the book of Moroni intertwine in its opening verses: Jesus is the Christ, and uncertainty is an unavoidable part of our existence in this mortal world. The uncertainty affects even the most devoted disciples at even their most urgent moments of need. The sustaining gifts of faith in Christ are the necessary complement to that uncertainty, and those gifts come not only despite our inadequacies but also sometimes through them. A prophet on the lam—troubled by the specter of his mistakes, inclined to worry and self-doubt in a world falling apart around him, and determined to hold on to his faith—shows these things to be true as he composes the final chapters of an epic book.

David F. Holland, Moroni.

. . . even as these opening passages on ordination and authorization point to the official structures of a Christian community, Moroni’s history of Christ’s visit simultaneously reminds us that the authority of office is not the same thing as divine power. Indeed, these chapters seem to insist on driving home a distinction between the two. The act of ordaining may convey a role of particular responsibility within the church, but the power of God is something other than that. It is bigger in its capacity and more universal in its distribution than a narrow fixation on ordination could possibly accommodate.

Note that, in chapter 2, even though Christ gave his twelve disciples the assignment and the authority to confer the gift of the Holy Ghost, the apostles would not have the “power” to accomplish this thing until “after” they had sought the Lord in “mighty prayer” (Moro. 2:2). In other words, the power came not through ordination but through prayer; it was then to be used in a specific way to meet the ordained responsibilities of a particular office.    

David F. Holland, Moroni.

To put this concept in the language of current Church usage, priesthood office carries the authority of specific community roles, but priesthood power is within the reach of every Saint.

David F. Holland, Moroni.

Moroni 3:4 I should not lose confidence in it because it was brought to me by a fellow fallen creature. In other words, when I am the giver, I should strive to meet the highest standards of spiritual power; when I am the receiver, I should not devalue the offering by the imperfect vehicle that bears it. 

David F. Holland, Moroni.

To go through the motions of the sacrament, without consciously tuning its repetitive actions toward the formation of a new self, is to miss its purpose. Put simply, sacramental habit can be powerfully transformative, but only if it does not descend into thoughtlessness. I have to be intentional about my quest for holiness when I place that bread on my tongue and bring the water to my lips over and over again. Otherwise, I squander the gift. I have “lost power.”

David F. Holland, Moroni.

The prayers are a reminder of the point made repeatedly in scripture—from the spit and dirt with which Jesus heals blindness in John 9, to the stones that become instruments of light in Ether 3, to the imperfect disciples who are made special witnesses throughout the standard works—that God can take the most mundane of materials and turn them into miraculous instruments of redemption. He is the Sanctifier of previously unhallowed elements. He changes things.

David F. Holland, Moroni.

Dr. Saba Mahmoud observing Muslim women in their devotion to the Islamic practice of daily prayer rituals:

Dr. Saba Mahmood notes that the rituals are usually seen by their practitioners as a substantive way to connect with the divine while they are usually seen by academic observers as symbolic expressions of identity and an affirmation of group cohesion. In close observation of her subjects, however, Mahmood noticed a third implication of their ritual lives. She recognized that the women approached their prayer rituals as repeatable acts of spiritual training, disciplines whose repetition over time would facilitate a gradual internal transformation. They did them less as professions of faith and more as avenues toward faith.

They did not observe their prayer practices because they self-identified as part of a righteous people; they observed them in the hope of developing into righteous people. Their rituals were about the diligent, repetitive work of forming a new self. They were not static symbols so much as active exercises. Mahmood’s women did these things in order to become.

The ordinances are therefore not the culmination of my righteousness; rather, they are a foundational exercise that allows me to develop righteousness.

David F. Holland, Moroni.

A moment of reverence can often open new doors, provide new pathways which might have otherwise been left unexplored. 

Alan Bradley, The Golden Tresses of the Dead.

. . . Moroni did have a choice. There were societies he could join—secret combinations and warring tribes—if he were willing to betray both his better nature and his testimony of the Christ. As agonizing as prolonged solitude is to souls wired for connection, Moroni concluded that there is in fact something worse: a community in which inclusion comes at the price of core convictions. And so he walks on, alone with his faith in Jesus, maintaining his mentally projected sense of place among a community of righteous writers and reflecting on what a well-ordered, Christ-centered people once looked like. For him, that reflection begins with the ordinances.

David F. Holland, Moroni.