A Future for Brigham Young University's Neal A. Maxwell Institute!

Elder John A. Widtsoe, a modern John the Beloved, dreamed dreams about Brigham Young University. And by dreams he meant tasks: BYU must become a center for the study of just government, for the study of happy family life, for the promotion of the Lord's law of health, and for an evidentiary study of the Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ. (Mormonism produced the book, after all, and builds its foundations on its testimony.) So runs the short list--the vital things--but "Following the revealed word of God it could and must win prominence and assume leadership in many distinctive fields which lie embedded in the Gospel of Jesus Christ."

Such aspirations bespeak love, and his love for the university blossomed during the briefest stay as a visiting professor. Dr. Widtsoe, who had established himself at Utah State University, suddenly found himself without a job (and the firing was unjust) too late in the year to seek another place. In the midst of the crisis--and I know that very crisis--an old teacher counseled Brother Widtsoe "to stay sweet." Then Brigham Young University came to the rescue. . .

BYU weaves a spell about those who find safe haven there.

And note the unique tie between BYU and the Gospel. BYU "could and must win prominence and assume leadership." In what? "In many distinctive fields," he says. But do not all universities seek the same? No. In the case of BYU there is a strict limitation and focus: "in many distinctive fields which lie embedded in the Gospel of Jesus Christ." Much else may be studied for profit and learning, but leadership and prominence is reserved for those specific areas of study that channel saving Gospel principles to a thirsting world: "it must emphasize, for all the world to see, that peace and prosperity, for which the world hungers, may be produced only from adherence to gospel principles."

Let's roll up our sleeves, he says:

"[And] set up academic units to study, assemble, investigate, teach and publish the gospel message as it pertains to the following fields which are especially prominent in the Restored Gospel of Jesus Christ:

(1) wise and successful government, both national and international;

(2) happy family life built around our understanding of the eternity of family relations;

(3) health producing nutrition, embodying the principles of the inspired Word of Wisdom;

(4) American archaeology to substantiate the claims of the Book of Mormon.

The four enumerated are of especial importance. It must also pass on a well-rounded cultural education. Based on latter-day revelations these four items have the right to be heard and taught in terms of man's accumulated knowledge and the Lord's revelations. The world is pleading for such guidance in these and other matters within the possession of the Church.

Such deliberate organization and effort would enable the B.Y.U. to give service of tremendous value to mankind. Gradually, fearless, intelligent, well-organized teaching of these subjects will not only win general academic acclaim but also the respect and praise from people everywhere of any faith, land or station. The consequent blessing to our own people would be incalculable.

As the conserver and preserver of existing knowledge the B.Y.U. must bravely recognize its great responsibility and accept its magnificent opportunity. Unless it does so it will remain one of the tread-mill workers in the educational fraternity--a little better than the others because of the practice of gospel principles on its campus.

The B.Y.U. must look up to the skies; it must have the courage to challenge, if needs be, the whole world."

As I have pondered, over the years, this charge of Elder Widtsoe, my heart has soared. I was a student once--and I cannot get the place and the goals out of my heart. I don't teach there now; but one bright semester, years ago, I got to teach two classes--and I still dream of BYU.

I don't know much about world government, but I deeply wish to drink from the teaching BYU will afford us as we move closer to millennial peace. I do know something about efforts to establish centers of study for the Book of Mormon--after all, Elder Widtsoe recruited Hugh Nibley to BYU, and how we all loved to hear him teach from an open copy of that cornerstone Scripture.

There once was an institute of Book of Mormon archaeology at BYU: it fell into ruins. Marvelous work in Mesoamerican archaeology and linguistics and the Popol Vuh has come out of the Y, and I rejoice in much light shed on the Holy Word of God, though the little institute itself become a silent tell.

Great dreams continue to be dreamed, and from such dreams there came so-called FARMS, the Foundation for Ancient Research and Mormon Studies, whose mission was to publish on all things Egyptian and Hebrew and Mayan and Arabic and Greek, as such might pertain to the Book of Mormon and Pearl of Great Price. A journal was bravely launched; the title was simple and to the point: The Journal of the Book of Mormon.

And, in time, the institute become an official part of Brigham Young University. The Prophet himself issued the invitation. Then--to my shock (not feeling it worthy)--there came to grace the program the sacred name of another apostle, Elder Neal A. Maxwell. Though shocked (and it cost me much to see the popular but fledgling institute assume the name), I came to accept that there remained but one honorable outcome: The institute would simply have to prove worthy of the name. The Prophet said "I think we will not see [Elder Maxwell's] like again"--but, somehow, however long and hard the road, The Neal A. Maxwell Institute of Religious Scholarship would have to live up to its name. And it would have to live up to the name of exemplary Brigham Young.

Has it? No. (What organization could?)

And has the Maxwell Institute that now houses FARMS lived up to Elder Widtsoe's dreams? No. On the other hand, I was startled to find a Neal A. Maxwell Presidential Endowed Chair at the University of Utah's Department of Political Science. Somehow its honorees rise to the assigned task. . .

Yet much good has been done! And I'm convinced the dream will unfold in a wonderful way.

How?

By rolling up sleeves--and counting the cost.

The Maxwell Institute alone publishes three journals and one newsletter. Now count, if you will, the many overlapping institutes, programs, journals, centers, departments, colloquia, and symposia BYU now sponsors (not to mention the Church History Library!) all of which, in divers ways, do the work that ought to belong to a Maxwell Institute of Ancient Near Eastern, American, and Book of Mormon Studies. The number will blow your mind! Think of the cost. (Imagine the bewildered students.)

Second, consider how many gifted BYU professors, as peer reviewers, writers, editors, contribute to several journals, symposia, Web sites, and organizations all of which publish on the Book of Mormon--all of which lie outside the university itself. Again, we find overlap. Look at one such: FAIR. FAIR's symposia and publications, often praiseworthy, first rivaled, then overshadowed FARMS itself. Yet it's mostly just the same stuff--and the same staff. I wonder just how it is that the Church's flagship university allows wee organizations, bursting with zeal, to eclipse a well-known institute set up by and named after living apostles--and effectively to do the eclipsing within their own lifetimes?

Specific BYU institutes set up for specific gospel-related tasks ought, by all rights, to eclipse all rivals, however worthy, whether within or without the university walls. The world may be our campus--but let us at least have a campus. Let there be at least a friendly competition. And let's win one for the Cougars!

We learn and grow from vigorous competition--survival of the fittest--and we will yet join forces. Judah will not envy Ephraim, and the Kennedy Center will not do the work of the Maxwell Institute, nor will the Religious Educator and its wee Religious Studies Center sap strength from the Journal of the Book of Mormon. Religious Studies Center? The Book of Mormon contains "the fulness of the Gospel of Jesus Christ" (Doctrine and Covenants 20:9).

Competition?

Elder Maxwell was "touched by the combination of world-class scholarship and world-class testimony" on BYU's three campuses. Yet, as he reminds us--and here we see the experienced administrator and the true Christian--"There will always be a need for civility and trust throughout the large BYU faculty, harnessed as we are together." (As if, once yoked in Christ, we could ever become unharnessed!)

With that gentle but laser-like foresight apostles have, he then quotes President John Taylor, who also "being dead yet speaketh":

Many of us are tried and tempted, and we get harsh and hard feelings against one another. And it reminds me of your teams when going down hill with a heavy load. When the load begins to crowd on to the horses, you will frequently see one snap at his mate, and the other will prick up his ears and snap back again. And why? A little while before, perhaps, and they were playing with each other. Because the load crowds on them. Well, when the load begins to crowd, do not snap at your brethren, but let them feel that you are their friends, and pull together (Journal of Discourses 21:214-15; Elder Neal A. Maxwell, "Out of the Best Faculty," BYU Annual University Conference, August 26, 1993).

Go team!

BYU weaves a spell about those who find safe haven there.

We start with competition--we all need a starting point to do great work. Then with "deliberate organization and effort," we come together in a glorious cause, "Proving to the world that the holy scriptures are true" (Doctrine and Covenants 20:11). Elder Widtsoe dreamt; we must wake. Now is the time. Friendship will flourish. God's work will be done.

"So ran my thoughts during the valued interlude at the Brigham Young University, and so run my thoughts and prayers today, after these many years. The B.Y.U. must become earth's greatest university."



Notes

The chapter from which I quote (introducing slight editing) is entitled "An Interlude at B.Y.U." It appears In a Sunlit Land. The Autobiography of John A. Widtsoe, 88-97 (1952 Salt Lake City).

I honor anyone who publishes good tidings from the Book of Mormon, no matter how or where. And I honor BYU's Maxwell Institute, its friends and employees, and marvel at how far it has come in fulfilling prophecy. I know it will always have a bright future.

Latter-day Saint Scholars Versus Lay Members: A New Priestcraft (3 Nephi 6:12)

It startles the honest reader to learn of a new dichotomy, now much drummed as if decree, separating Latter-day Saint "scholars" from "lay members," "lay readers," and the like. A word to the wise: We are all students, from Kindergarten up. 

FARMS first snorted that whiff of nonsense: "The new format will serve two audiences. The first is scholars presenting their findings to fellow scholars." There do exist "tens of thousands of intelligent nonspecialist readers" (we're breaking it gently), and, for their amusement, "We plan to use superior contemporary design and attractive illustrations" ("The Editor's Notebook," Journal of Book of Mormon Studies 7.1, 1998). 

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints does enjoy a lay ministry. And, following the logic of such an organization, Christians who do not hold high office may, perchance, boast of being rank-and-file or ordinary members. But every candid soul must object to a dichotomy slicing "lay members" from "scholars." 

Nephi would object: "And the people began to be distinguished by ranks, according to their riches and their chances for learning; yea, some were ignorant because of their poverty, and others did receive great learning because of their riches" (3 Nephi 6:12). 

Should we liken the scripture unto ourselves, there's precious little mutatis to mutandis.

Fools before God (2 Nephi 9:42). Let the scholar beware! He may soon appear a fool before God, for even run-of-the-mill Saints receive the promise: "God shall give unto you knowledge by his Holy Spirit, yea, by the unspeakable gift of the Holy Ghost, that has not been revealed since the world was until now" (Doctrine and Covenants 121:26). "As well might man stretch forth his puny arm to stop the Missouri river in its decreed course, or to turn it up stream, as to hinder the Almighty from pouring down knowledge from heaven upon the heads of the Latter-day Saints" (v.33). Those that "aspire to the honors of men," the called but not chosen, "do not learn [even] one lesson" (vs.34-5)! Besides, the Lord "[reasons] in plainness and simplicity--to prepare the weak [for] the day when the weak shall confound the wise" (133:58). Thus even "the weak and the weakest of all saints, who are or can be called saints. . .shall find wisdom and great treasures of knowledge, even hidden treasures" (89: 3; 19). Don't debate the Saints!

What, if anything, have graduate degrees or expectations of graduate degrees in 2015 or 2017 to do with scholarship anyhow? There has to be some limit to careening arrogance. It's enough to make one seasick--scholars soaring on one deck; everybody else at the oars!

You Must Study It Out in Your MInd: The Urim and Thummim and Inspired Translation

"A precisely determined text"?

Argument: "Joseph Smith was literally reading off an already composed English-language text" (Interview, Royal Skousen, "Times and Seasons" Web page, with reader comments, 13 October 2004).

"Or, Pure Intelligence flowing into the mind"?

Argument: Doctrine and Covenants Section 9 best describes how the Prophet Joseph translated the Book of Mormon. For discussion, the first place to look is Stephen Ricks, "Notes and Communications: Translation of the Book of Mormon: Interpreting the Evidence," Journal of the Book of Mormon (1993). We may summarize Professor Ricks's thoughts, published some twenty years ago, as follows: Joseph Smith was not "automatically" given the translation. He gradually saw the English words in the Interpreters (or Urim and Thummim) as he struggled to put Nephite words into English. Doctrine and Covenants Section 9 shows us this. Accounts by associates are incomplete, contradictory, or even hearsay.

I agree with Professor Ricks. What is new are not perhaps the ideas he puts forth--and he makes no claim to originality--but his clarity and common sense. Having taken a fresh though brief look at some of the evidence, I now add a few thoughts of my own, while, at once, ever keeping in mind the counsel of Elder Quentin L. Cook: "Obsessive focus on things not yet fully revealed [such as] exactly how Joseph Smith translated our scriptures, will not be efficacious or yield spiritual progress. These are matters of faith" (General Conference, April 2012).

I certainly do not intend to sum up--or even to read--all the secondary "literature" on the subject of Book of Mormon translation. To the making of much bibliography there cannot even be a beginning. Bibliography works the Hellenistic slumber, grounds the living fire of the mind. The quintessence of studies in Mormonism is: Everybody do their own thinking and pen their own conclusions. In other words, Keep a saving distance. Pass by most of the secondary material. Pick up the classics instead.

According to Professor Royal Skousen, the translation of the Book of Mormon came simple gifts, as if dictation, errors and all. (What a gift!) But an automatically given translation--one that perforce reflects even original scribal error--does not fit the Prophet's own record. Doctrine and Covenants Section 9 shows how the Lord wished Oliver Cowdery to attempt translation from the gold plates; He wished Oliver to take thought--get his bearings--then to study whether the reading "be right." The many errors in the Prophet's English, as found in the manuscripts and printed editions, should make it clear that inspired translation never comes automatically. What revelation does? Even Nephi had to choose whether to look, and how intently, says Elder David A. Bednar, when the angel said "Look!" The Book of Mormon translation evinces many a Jacob's wrestle.

Such a "transcription theory" does not come from the records left by Joseph Smith himself, but from the all-too-clear accounts of eager friends: Joseph Knight, Harris, Cowdery, Whitmer. Of these, only Cowdery attempted translation, and failed to bitterness (Richard L. Bushman, Joseph Smith, 71-3). The accounts are therefore hearsay (cf. S. Ricks, "Translation," Journal of the Book of Mormon). Similarly, contemporary accounts of the Prophet dictating revelations or seeing visions somehow also miss the inner quickenings of the spirit, that is, of the mind.

Joseph did write in 1832: "The Lord had prepared spectacles for to read the book" (Bushman, 72). The verb gives it away--to read is an action of the mind, not the eyes. The spectacles serve for light or eyes, the mind does the work. It's a real work-out: Joseph's gift is that of "sufficient strength" just to keep up. "Sight and power to translate" like Urim and Thummim, faith and works, or baptism by water and by fire always go together (Doctrine and Covenants 3:12; 9:2, 12; Elder Bednar, "Clean Hands and a Pure Heart," October 2007 General Conference).

Brother Cowdery remembered: "These were days never to be forgotten. To sit under the sound of a voice dictated by the inspiration of heaven, awakened the utmost gratitude of this bosom!" (Bushman, 73). Dictated? No. "Dictated by the inspiration of heaven"--the inner workings of the mind. Oliver, as would-be translator, faces divine rebuke: "You have not understood"; "You have supposed"; "You must study it out in your mind"; "If you had known this you could have translated"--and the telling, "You feared" (Doctrine and Covenants 9:5, 8, 10, 11). If not even Oliver had understood, what then shall we say of Martin or of David?

Professor Skousen also sees the Book of Mormon's presumed early modern English idiom, an idiom not necessarily King James's, as evidence for a dictated gifts translation. That is to say, Joseph Smith received the translation word-for-word in an idiom centuries removed from his own New England dialect. The Prophet could not have learned archaic English in 19th century New England--not even from the Bible--Skousen says. But Puritan speech-ways might well have included an odd, old word or phrase or two of which we cannot possibly be aware. And, as Skousen himself notes, some of the archaic English words in the Book of Mormon do show up somewhere in either the King James Version or the Puritan's own Geneva Bible. Early modern English in the Book of Mormon is well-spotted--all words merit study. Yet a sprinkling of archaisms contests but beggarly for a supplied translation--in pre-packaged 16th century English no less! The Prophet, as readers both see and appreciate, translated into his own native idiom reader, which was in part also the language of the Bible--but the Urim and Thummim also charged his mind with hidden knowledge. Whole Bibles were at the disposal of the Prophet's mind, not to mention the intellectual treasury of Nephite language and culture. Nothing could be hid (see Mosiah 8:17).

The English Book of Mormon is a compound of Joseph Smith's Puritan speech-ways, including the language of scripture (both Geneva Bible and KJV) and, inevitably, of Bunyan, the idiom of the Nephites, and things unguessed at. But let us be clear: the Book of Mormon did not swim into ken in a purely 15th and 16th century English nor did its reformed Egyptian reflect merely Biblical Hebrew, whatever that fragment of ancient Hebrew termed Biblical Hebrew really might be anyhow. (The book to read is Angel Saenz-Badillos, A History of the Hebrew Language). And must we resort to the game of emendation to fill up the lists of archaisms? or for any other reason? Better to take a second look at words as they stand.

Whole dictionaries have been compiled showing oddities of vocabulary in Bible translation; so it should not surprise us to find the odd word, here and there, in the Book of Mormon. It is a far different matter to evoke an early modern English "voice" that dictates, word-for-word, the Book of Mormon to the sight of a passive translator. There was no such "voice." If the prophetic mind can reach into eternity, it can grapple with English, it can wrestle with Nephite.

"I can see anything," says Joseph of the Urim and Thummim (so Joseph Knight reports, Bushman, Joseph Smith, 60). And, when working with the Interpreters, the prophetic mind--whether it's Joseph we speak of now, or Alma, or Moroni--grasped something of Calvin, something of Bunyan, something of Jewish commentary, something of idiom and difficulties and questionings of centuries. The Book of Mormon something shows that trace of struggle and grasp and understanding. The ancient American prophets, who saw our day, somehow knew just what to add and what to leave out; they knew the questions of Christendom. And both author and translator very much wish to address all Christendom, all Jewry, even all the world. The purpose of both author and translator, attacking questions and working with evidence of every kind, is "to the convincing of the Jew and Gentile that JESUS is the CHRIST, the ETERNAL GOD, manifesting himself unto all nations" (Title page of the Book of Mormon).

Moroni's first visit in 1823 only marked the beginning of Joseph's exhaustive learning about the peoples of the Book of Mormon. We know this because his mother tells us how Joseph, on special occasions, would talk for hours about the dress, travel, animal husbandry, cities, buildings, arts of war, and religious observances of that people--"in every particular" and "as though he had spent his life with them" (Lucy's Book, chapter 3, ed., Lavina F. Andersen). (We glimpse the returned missionary tumbling off "An easy morning's ride" and regaling the wrapt family with "the mail from Tunis, probably.") And what possible reason could there be to learn so much about Nephite or Jaredite folkways, if not as a help in translation? The Prophet himself never spoke of these things, or of how he came to know them, on record. He deemed the Book of Mormon sufficient to speak for him. (Do you see how Oliver Cowdery, by contrast--no matter his yearnings to translate--would have labored at a disadvantage?)

Only Joseph could have done the work, only he could "take the voltage," and so summon up the "sufficient strength" of which the Lord speaks, that is, both the sufficient intellectual and the sufficient spiritual strength (see Hugh Nibley, "Exemplary Manhood"). Even Oliver Cowdery, after that first try, was only promised by God a power to "assist" in translating "other records" (9:2). Observers describe the light and power that filled the translating room and which also emanated from the countenances of the brethren. They also note the translator's weariness--long breaks were taken.

The Prophet did not necessarily study the language or the reformed Egyptian script of the Book of Mormon, nor did he need to render its Isaian passages or the Savior's Sermon to the Nephites with the help of a Bible opened on the table. (He did later study Hebrew, German, Greek--and even the hieroglyphs.) When working as a Seer, an encyclopaedic understanding might flow into him; it then remained to him how he might marshal his thoughts and frame conclusions--his translations.

How can it be explained? How did he translate so as to retain both ancient Afroasiatic idiom and also each prophet's individual style--and, at once, express a sacred message in simple scriptural language? And how could all happen with such speed--a world of message poured into a sliver of moment? It is a miracle. (Forget theory.) The seeric translator somehow works outside of time--for "this is revelation," as President Boyd K. Packer says. No wonder Hugh Nibley claimed the Prophet's use of Urim and Thummim--and we have no idea how such an instrument works in tandem with the mind--called for far more intellectual horsepower than the use of dictionary and grammar (see Hugh Nibley, The Message of the Joseph Smith Papyri: An Egyptian Endowment).

Joseph Smith himself, by way of translation--and thus in stunning second-hand humility--leaves us with a few kingly sayings to ponder in our hearts. King Mosiah, with sacred interpreters, translated the twenty-four pure gold plates left by an archaic people. How did he do it? "One Ammon," though not a seer, yet spoke with insight: "Blind and impenetrable are the understandings of the children of men," but Mosiah as seer could "know of things which are past"; for thus "shall secret things be made manifest, and hidden things shall come to light." And shall we suppose that such an one having "this high gift" would have received the Jaredite record simple gifts? or as also dictated in a fixed archaic Nephite idiom? Remember, said Ammon, "a gift which is greater can no man have, except he should possess the power of God" (Mosiah 8; also Mosiah 7:3).

The understanding of the Seer is not a blind but a seeing understanding. It is not impenetrable: a fullness of light shines through it until, with quickened mind, the spiritual mind, he can comprehend all truth necessary for translation or prophecy. Working by the Urim and Thummim qualifies a seer, for the set purposes at hand, to be "glorified in truth and [know] all things" (see Doctrine and Covenants 93).

Notes

Sound insights--not theory--on inspired translation can also come from reading Hugh Nibley. For more thoughts on the subject, please see an earlier post (9-24-2011), "'One in Mine Hand': The Constellative Purpose of the Book of Mormon, the Books of Abraham, Joseph, and Others Yet To Come."

Every Latter-day Saint benefits from the detective work done by students of the Book of Mormon manuscripts. We all owe much to Royal Skousen and his team; we also owe a debt to Brother Richard Bushman for his biography of Joseph Smith. Although we cannot all accept every thesis these students lay down, may we ever "prove contraries," i.e., weigh arguments, with the kindly prudence of Benjamin Franklin. Truth can be manifest through the testing, assessing, weighing, or "proving" of contrary or opposing arguments or systems of belief. Such "proving contraries" need have nothing to do with paradox or the irresolvable--truth can be made manifest (see 5 June 1844 letter of Joseph Smith to L. Daniel Rupp, in which the Prophet cites a proverb about finding Truth--absolute Truth--by assessing contrary propositions, History of the Church V:428).

And with Franklin well in mind comes a word to the wise: We are all students, from Kindergarten up. It therefore startles the honest reader to learn a new dichotomy, now much drummed as if law, separating Latter-day Saint "scholars" from "lay members," "lay readers," and the like. We do have a lay ministry in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints does have a lay ministry. And, following the logic of such an organization, members of the Church who do not hold high offices may, perchance, boast themselves "rank-and-file" or "ordinary members." But every candid soul must object to a dichotomy separating "lay members" from "scholars." What, if anything, have graduate degrees or expectations of graduate degrees in 2015 or 2016 to do with scholarship anyhow? There has to be some limit to boundless arrogance! It's enough to make one seasick--scholars soaring on one "ship", everybody else at the oars!

Joseph Smith Translation Hosea 8:11: My Mercies (Part One)

The King James Version of the Holy Bible is not without its moments of dark incoherence.

Consider the following place (Hosea 11:8): "My heart is turned within, my repentings are kindled together."

"My repentings are kindled together?" Put that sentence into simple English without the aid of anything except a collegiate dictionary!

Things are much turned about in the Joseph Smith Translation of the verse (note: my not mine in the edition of the KJV used by the Prophet), as a comparison of the two versions shows.

KJV

How shall I give thee up, Ephraim? how shall I deliver thee, Israel?

how shall I make thee as Admah? how shall I set thee as Zeboim?

mine heart is turned within me, my repentings are kindled together.

JST

my heart is turned toward thee, and my mercies are extended to gather thee.

(Scott H. Faulring, Kent P. Jackson, Robert J. Matthews, Joseph Smith's New Translation of the Bible: Original Manuscripts [Provo, 2004], Old Testament Manuscript 2, 844-5).

Karl Elliger, the editor of Hosea for Biblia Hebraica (1970), takes the Hebrew word nixumay, rendered in KJV as my repentings, as a possible error for raxamay, my compassion or my mercies. Whether the editor is correct in so emending nixumay into raxamay, the emended reading is a dead ringer for that given by the Prophet Joseph: "My mercies"!

But the Prophet's translation of mercies stands whether we are to accept Professor Elliger's emendation of Hosea 11:8 or not. The editors of the Anchor Bible edition of Hosea say the following:

"emotions. The word nixumim [Hosea 11:8 has the plural form with possessive ending: nixumay] occurs only here, in Isa 57:18, and in Zech 1:13. The emotion is one of compassion and pity; it describes the desire to bring consolation. As such it is close in meaning to raxamim; the proposed emendation to raxamay is fatuous" (Francis I. Andersen, David Noel Freedman, Hosea, The Anchor Bible [New York, 1980], 589).

My mercies thus answers to nixumay so surely as it does to raxamay. Indeed both the Targum (Aramaic Bible) and the Peshitta (Syriac) translate nixumay with the root r-x-m (see Comprehensive Aramaic Lexicon database and Biblia Hebraica).

Elsewhere, the King James translators do not translate nixumim as repentings: repentings in KJV Hosea 11:8 is fatuous and incoherent--it "leadeth not," "comforteth not" unto salvation (Isaiah 57:18: I will lead him also, and restore comforts unto him; Zechariah 1:13: "And the Lord answered the angel that talked with me with good words and comfortable words"). The Prophet, by the way, at the time of translation, had not yet begun his Hebrew studies; he, therefore, would not have been aware of the two other instances of nixumim in the Hebrew Bible. Still, ought the Prophet Joseph to have rendered: "my comforts are kindled together"? Not so. Mercies is just the word.

Of all Bible translations, Martin Luther's alone renders nixumay as meine Barmherzigkeit (my mercy) instead of "my repentaunce" (Wycliffe), paenitudo mea (Vulgate), or metameleia mou (LXX). When Joseph the Seer, a good decade after making his own translation, encountered Luther's Bible, he took pains to learn the language, then pronounced it to be the version best attesting his own revelation. The doctrine of mercy shines brightly everywhere in the scriptures revealed through Joseph Smith, and especially the Book of Mormon, as the very essence of Christ's salvation. Thus nothing in Luther's Bible so attests the inspiration given to the Prophet about the mission of Christ as does this word Barmherzigkeit.

It takes some thinking to get at the root of these twinned Semitic verbs, r-x-m and n-x-m. R-x-m at its essence speaks to love; its place is the womb (rexem) of a loving mother; n-x-m conveys rest and calm (see, for example, the definitions in John Huehnergard's A Grammar of Akkadian). The bowels of n-x-m, its place, yearn to soothe, comfort, pacify. Not only do the verbs phonologically chime, their semantic fields overlap, and where they overlap, they blend in an expression of mercy.

Philology and semantics bring satisfaction, but the prophetic commission to reveal and to translate extends beyond academic pursuits. Said Elder Neal A. Maxwell: "The revelations of the Restoration confirm this cosmic fact: 'God so loved the world, that he gave his Only Begotten Son'" (John 3:16; October 2003, "How Choice a Seer!"). If semantics was the only thing at issue here, it would all be to small point. The replacement of the frustrating dark saying "my repentings" with "my mercies" becomes a translation--though so small in scope as the taking of a new breath--"especially responsive to the deepest human yearnings and puzzlements" (Elder Maxwell, "How Choice a Seer!"). And perhaps that single new breath of mercy, as his daily bread, suffices the Christian pilgrim to the top of yet one more hill.

"My mercies" signifies "My atoning mercies," "my pacifying and reconciling mercies"--and "all" "extended toward thee," "to gather thee," to bring thee Home. Hosea, at the very moment of justice, the moment in which Ephraim is about to be delivered up to the doom of the ancient Cities of the Plain, Admah and Zeboim, testifies of that Christ who, having "satisfied the demands of justice" and "having the bowels of mercy; being filled with compassion," now stands "betwixt them and justice" (see Mosiah 15:9, and note the complementary, as well as the contrasting, words; for Admah and Zeboim, see Hosea, The Anchor Bible, 588).

Not long before his martyrdom, the Prophet Joseph observed of a letter sent him by the governor of Illinois: "There is no mercy--there is no mercy here" (History of the Church 6:545). Yet he remained, with his long-suffering brethren, purposeful, poised, and "calm as a Summer's morning"! How many rescuing drops of mercy, grace, and saving kindness do we find in our own here and now?

The editors of the Anchor Bible, as they struggle over the riddling text, linger over the poetic portrayal of a God who seemingly vacillates in agony of indecision. Such--for today's thoughtful reader--may be the ambiguity of poetry, but God does not repent; he does not have an inward turning of heart, says Joseph, so much as a heart burning with mercies, a heart ever turning towards Thee. That change in translation, or in emphasis, or in intent, we submit, becomes for the thirsting soul who finds "no mercy here" a small but sufficient well of grace springing up into everlasting life. We respond affirmatively to the plea of Elder Neal A. Maxwell: "Brothers and sisters, we dare not hold back the restored gospel's declarations! We dare not hold back the reassuring revelations and truth-telling translations about 'things as they really are, and . . . things as they really will be.' These are so needed by those whose weary hands hang down because they suffer from doctrinal anemia, which can best be treated by the red blood cells of the Restoration" (Elder Maxwell, "How Choice a Seer!" Italics added).



Notes

An electronic edition of the Luther Bible, 1545, can be found at Biblegateway.com.

Trust No One To Be Your Teacher

A few years ago, I tuned into a BYU commencement address on the car radio:

"Some of you graduates will continue your educational studies. Keep up the good work! We’re proud of you! Most of you will not pursue more formal education but will embark on your chosen career. We’re grateful for you and wish you well.

Brothers and sisters, regardless of your choices for the future, you will continue to learn. As long as you live, you will learn. It is part of God’s plan for us. You will grow intellectually and spiritually. Just as Jesus the Christ 'increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man,' so may you.

To increase your wisdom and stature, you will exercise your agency. You will choose your teachers and your role models. Choose them wisely. Heed this counsel of Alma: 'Trust no one to be your teacher . . . , except he be a man of God, walking in his ways and keeping his commandments.'" (Elder Russell M. Nelson, 23 April 2009, BYU Web page).

Trust no one! I was startled. The idea seemed unrealistic. It was one of those "Who, then, can be saved?" moments, and I began to wonder. . . Trust no one? And just how many men of God will these new graduates find in the academy or the office? Or how about those teachers and ministers who pick the Bible to death, line upon line, precept upon precept? Who, then, can be your teacher? your role model? Elder Nelson's statement pours cold water on a good many dissertation advisors, department chairs, CEOs. But there you have it. Choose and Heed are in imperative mode. So is Trust no one.

The words quoted by Elder Nelson come from another speech, another commencement. Alma the Elder, addressing his new community--refugees from the oppressive rule of King Noah--refuses to be named king (Mosiah 23:7):

But he said unto them: Behold, it is not expedient that we should have a king; for thus saith the Lord: Ye shall not esteem one flesh above another, or one man shall not think himself above another; therefore I say unto you it is not expedient that ye should have a king.

Here, in a one-liner buried in the narrative, is one of the greatest revelations in all scripture:

Ye shall not esteem one flesh above another. Ye shall not esteem.

Then comes the corollary:

One man shall not think himself above another.

Alma continues:

13 And now as ye have been delivered by the power of God out of these bonds; yea, even out of the hands of king Noah and his people, and also from the bonds of iniquity, even so I desire that ye should stand fast in this liberty wherewith ye have been made free, and that ye trust no man to be a king over you.

14 And also trust no one to be your teacher nor your minister, except he be a man of God, walking in his ways and keeping his commandments.

Trust no king, and trust but few to teach and few to minister.

The wording of the 1830 Book of Mormon has been modified, yet the original sentence grammar does not offend the ear:

"and that ye trust no man to be a king over you;

and also trusting no one to be your teachers nor your ministers, except he be a man of God, walking in his ways and keeping his commandments" (Joseph Smith Begins His Work: Book of Mormon 1830 First Edition, Wilford C. Wood, ed., 203).

After hearing Elder Nelson, I felt glad I was not standing on the threshold of graduate mentoring. I inwardly imagined a few graduates finding mentors of sound religious faith and values--and such are yet many--and hoped that the rest might come to see their new Bishops and Stake Presidents as if their true dissertation advisors or business administrators.

Such glad safety is illusory. Every time I pick up a book, leaf through a newspaper, or watch the television commentator, I begin trusting someone to be my teacher. Latter-day Saints often use the idiom: "the author is not a Latter-day Saint, but it is still a good book." The questions ought to be, upon taking up a book: Is he a man of God? Does he or she live a godly life?

Are matters of morality so very delicate? They are. Trust no one.

Surely the counsel of Elder Nelson cannot apply so generally? It does. Choose Wisely. Trust No One. And the last might be restated: Read but Verify. That is, Read Wisely, read with the eyes open, read through the lens of gospel light.

The list becomes long.

"Trusting no one to be your teachers" becomes:

Trusting no one to be your historian;

Trusting no one to do your science;

Trusting no one to be your compiler of facts, your journalist, essayist, rhetorician, your literary critic, your biographer, your mathematician.

I read broadly, but my trust does not flow so broadly as the leaves I spread to read. As Robert Frost teaches in "Wild Grapes": "Nothing tells me/That I need learn to let go with the heart." ("And have no wish to with the heart. . . The mind--is not the heart").

Latter-day graduates who aspire to the honors of academia ought ever to remember: "The mind--is not the heart." And they ought to discover for themselves the little lingering note of wonder, the catch in the breath: The mind -- is not the heart.

There are teachers, and then there are teachers, but who qualifies as the False Teacher? To answer, we turn to Samuel the Lamanite, who gives us the following signs by which we may identify 1) the false teacher and 2) the phony reformer (Helaman 13:27-28):

27 But behold, if a man shall come among you and shall say: Do this, and there is no iniquity; do that and ye shall not suffer; yea, he will say: Walk after the pride of your own hearts; yea, walk after the pride of your eyes, and do whatsoever your heart desireth—and if a man shall come among you and say this, ye will receive him, and say that he is a prophet.

28 Yea, ye will lift him up, and ye will give unto him of your substance; ye will give unto him of your gold, and of your silver, and ye will clothe him with costly apparel; and because he speaketh flattering words unto you, and he saith that all is well, then ye will not find fault with him.

"If a man shall come among you" begins Samuel the Lamanite, and he does such and such, and then you do so and so, then you may know you are following a false teacher.

He shall say: "Do this" and "Do that" and even "Do whatsoever", that is to say, "Whatsoever your heart desireth." There is a point of subtlety here. The false teacher does not begin by saying "Do whatsoever your heart desireth." There comes first many a Do This, many a Do That, and then there follows quite a long journey: "Walk after the pride of your own hearts." Finally, he teaches: Now you are ready to go ahead with "whatsoever."

All must be soaked in smooth and "flattering words unto you." The false teacher is your friend, your guide, he cloaks you in the garment of praise.

In return, you are to fund the teacher "of your gold, and of your silver" and "lift him up," or promote him. You become his chief propagandist and fundraiser.

"And because he speaketh flattering words unto you, and he saith that all is well"--"you're doing great, making great progress," then--and this is a powerful conclusion--"ye will not find fault with him."

What do we see, then?

A man comes among us, flatters us with pretensions of friendship, praises us, and we instantly buy into it all; we fund him, roll out the red carpet, promote him, praise him to the stars, and--because he is our great and wonderful friend--we will not, would not, ever "find fault with him."

Even worse, says Samuel, should that same man not only preach but minister. He preaches and he editorializes: Do this, Do that, Change this, Change that "and ye shall not suffer." Change whatsoever.

As we make pace on our own Pilgrim's Progress, we now encounter not only the False Teacher but that near kin, the Reformer.

Susa Young Gates observed a breathtaking trait in her father, President Brigham Young (she is setting out a short laundry list of his weaknesses, and, as we all know he had a "strong" weakness or two, while yet "a man of God, walking in his ways and keeping his commandments"):

"Those who posed as reformers towards him and his people, who would destroy the Church and Kingdom of God, and especially if they were themselves 'whited sepulchres' he hated with a passion that often vented itself in violent speech. His family, who heard never an unrefined word from his lips, were nevertheless not shocked when he denounced or even cursed in the pulpit the renegades" who privately, and often also in public, cast aspersions on wives and children.

His children, you see, furrowed little brows over hearing themselves publicly described as bastards. Daddy would step up and defend his little ones, those who could hardly speak for themselves (compare Elder Dallin H. Oaks, "Protect the Children," General Conference, October 2012). All of which explains the use of childish language in so defending; for he was saying what both defenseless children and walked-on saints would have much liked to have said--and if he had not so spoken, the very rocks perforce would have come to speech. The man knew appeasement; he knew how to quiet a brooding crowd. Brigham Young was a carrier of an antique folk culture as much as of a gospel culture, and I like the way Brigham Young never held back.

Which aspersions? Oh, you are wonderful people, but how sad to see these "disadvantaged" (read: "illegitimate") children, these "poor" ("oppressed") wives. Oh, you have done such wonderful things in such a short time, but how sad to see the Priesthood taking the helm, rather than the judge, the governor. Don't you care what people might say of your children? Are you, good people, after all, un-American?

Protect the Children (or, Mr. Young, you talk strangely): "When our women and children were left on the banks of the Missouri, in a helpless condition, I said to one of the United States officers, who had been threatening those who were left behind--

'While I am gone to find a home for my family, if you meddle with them, or insult them in the least, by the Gods of Eternity I will be on your track.' 

And had their threats been executed, I would have slain them, even though I should have had to go into the heart of Washington city to do it.

Says he, 'Mr. Young, you talk strangely.'

'Well,' I said, 'let my family alone'; 

for they wanted to persuade them back to the other side of the river, to afflict them still more" (Journal of Discourses 1:363).

Not every uniformed officer or professed reformer is a "whited sepulchre"; Brigham Young said it required the gentle Spirit of God to see through a man while his lips poured forth words sweet as honey. President Young's day was a day of subtlety, of charmed rhetoric, of--to our roughened ears--undreamed-of sophistication and manner. It was a day of hats. It was all soaring Saruman calling on Gandalf Greyhame; Gondor visiting the Shire folk. For a caller to evoke the subtle duel by essaying in lofty counterpoint on the titles of "his excellency, the great governor, Brigham Young" called forth the barbaric pinpoint: " 'Brigham the Carpenter' will do":

"His daughter [Susa Young Gates] relates that when he was governor a traveler addressed him with all of his federal, military and religious titles, to which Brigham replied, 'Sir, you have omitted my most cherished titles: Carpenter, Painter and Glazier.'" He himself said he preferred "Brigham, how are you?" to "'Governor Young', 'Governor Young,' in a canting tone" (Leonard Arrington, Brigham Young, American Moses, 244-245; Journal of Discourses 1:363).

Despite such frank pinpoints, Brigham himself, as the famous Fitz Hugh Ludlow noted, was "mannerly to a degree astonishing," acting with "perfect deference to the feelings of others," although possessing power seemingly "the most despotic known to mankind." Ludlow professed great friendship, believed himself sincere in that friendship, liked Brigham Young as much as did everyone else who ever met him (excepting a certain officer), indeed found him to be absolutely sincere and endearing; at once, he also deemed his power, that is to say, his priesthood authority, "a crime against the Constitution" (Leonard Arrington, Brigham Young, American Moses, 326). How many visitors charmed, or mystified, by an audience with Abraham Lincoln, also came to see in him a despot and his actions crimes against Constitutional law? Even some of Lincoln's oldest friends finally so concluded. After the assassination, Brother Brigham mused over what his own meeting with Lincoln might have been like: they would trade story after story in humorous repartee.

Neither can we imagine the Nephites as children, ungiven to speech. No, the portrait Samuel the Lamanite paints suggests sophistication, detail by sarcastic detail. And Samuel is sarcastic, and he vents, and he curses. Tired of his threats--and doubtless disgusted--the people righteously throw rocks, sanctimoniously shoot arrows, and Samuel leaps from the city wall and flees for his life.

But let's be serious: Who would reform into ineffectuality the Church and Kingdom of God? (How often we hear the claim that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, bereft of its first fire, blends into the crowd--just another protestant faith!) Not Thomas Kane, not Alexander Doniphan (these two being the paradigmatic friends in our history); not every man who comes among us. Consider the signs: promote him, give him money, find no fault with him. Do this, Do that. Don't do this. Don't do that--and words sweet as honey. None of these words describe either Kane or Doniphan, but they do describe others of Brother Brigham's day. Of course, it takes the Spirit of God to discern the matter--but it never hurts to start with the subtle yet sufficiently plain wording of the Book of Mormon, a significant role of which, says a modern Prophet, is to expose "the enemies of Christ." "God, with his infinite foreknowledge, so molded the Book of Mormon that we might see the error and know how to combat false educational, political, religious, and philosophical concepts of our time" (Ezra Taft Benson, "The Book of Mormon is the Word of God," Ensign, January 1988).

Trust no one. In coming days "humble followers of Christ" will doubtless shake hands with a few calling "reformers" and "flatterers," and we would do well to fortify ourselves against these professed friends with that same armor we put on to withstand what President Benson calls "the evil designs, strategies, and doctrines of the devil in our day"--though we need not vent, I suppose.

And we must never, never curse. Young college graduates! your professors and advisors may be present.

Neal A. Maxwell, Walter Jackson Bate, and Brigham Young: The Moral Purpose of Mormon Biography

Since childhood I continue to read with eager haste the biographical record of early Mormonism. The reading has built faith and, together with the Holy Scriptures and the teachings of living prophets, has helped convert my soul to the Lord. In these biographies, when good and true, I have found "the always heartening union of achievement with the familiar" (Walter Jackson Bate, John Keats, 2).

Advice to writers often suggests writing on what one knows best; the advice is good for readers also. And such reading serves a moral purpose. Of course, "We have a natural hunger to learn what qualities of mind or character, and what incidents in a man's life, encourage--or at least permit--an achievement so compelling when, at the same time, so little is apparently given at the start." "The interest is thus deeply human and moral, and in the most capacious sense of both of these words" (Walter Jackson Bate, 2).

Such hunger to learn--and the learning is a moral quest--has its pitfalls. According to the gifted Walter Jackson Bate, we approach greatness with two fears. First comes the fear that all that is great has already been accomplished in the world; then follows the thought of it being "utterly impossible to imitate" the hero "in any thing" (Bate citing Johnson, 35). Yet the very act of reading the right sort of biography can quell both fears such that "Whatever our usual preoccupations, in approaching such figures we become more open to what Johnson thought the first aim of biography--to find what can be 'put to use'" (Bate, 2).

And what can the young Latter-day Saint reader "put to use" from the lives of the prophets, patriarchs, and pioneers whose names he already knows so well? (There must be a few Latter-day Saint virtues.) Here I recall the way in which Preston Nibley chose to sum up his biography of the second modern prophet of our dispensation: "HE BELIEVED." Faith can always be "put to use"--and that makes of any biographer someone having almost endless capacity to do good: "I have been astounded by the strength of this man's faith; such faith I have never encountered in any other person" (Preston Nibley, Brigham Young: The Man and His Work, 539). We all recall Brigham Young's assertion: " 'Mormonism' has made me all that I am" (JD 8:162, Widstoe, Discourses of Brigham Young, 451). Whatever we are, we also can believe and become whatever Mormonism may make of us.

Any young reader hopes to share in the deeds of the great. Yet in the very moment of aspiration, deflation sets in: Who can match their deeds, their virtues? Here is where--and not a moment before--the words of Johnson fruitfully come to use. Confronting the "utterly impossible to imitate in any thing," "The sacred writers (he observed) related the vicious as well as the virtuous actions of men; which had this moral effect, that it kept mankind from despair" (Bates citing Johnson, 35).

Note it well: the very act of relating even the vicious is intended to produce a "moral effect" urging the reader forward in the paths of king or prophet, though none himself. Turning to the Bible, we find David, though exemplar of virtue, yet caught in the vicious. And Peter? Here is no king: the record relates a quite ordinary soul of impetuosity, temper, jealousy, and inconsistency. Indeed, the man possessed but a sole virtue: "He believed." And Christ then made of Peter the Apostle all that he was, that is to say, all that we wonder at in the Acts of the Apostles. Other scriptural greats somehow escape the taint of the vicious: John and Paul stand to perfection despite being sons of Boanerges; Joseph has no fault; Moses stands near perfect (though Aaron knows flaws). There are human moments but not a jot of vice. Appears, in lightning flash, one rather primal personality. Despairing Elijah, both troubler of Israel and the paradigmatic prophet of "like passions," is suddenly swept to heaven. (And, as I was always taught at home, Who would not gladly exchange their own reward in heaven for the throne of Elijah or the crown of Brigham Young?)

Commenting to his own biographer--who worked under instructions to be candid--Elder Neal A. Maxwell said: "It isn't that we're searching for weakness as much as we are for growth" (Bruce C. Hafen, A Disciple's Life: The Biography of Neal A. Maxwell, xv). The same apostle often related how Prophet and President Lorenzo Snow: "meekly but instructively, said of the Prophet's imperfections [Joseph Smith]: When I saw the weaknesses and imperfections in him I thanked God that He would put upon a man who had these imperfections the power and authority which he placed upon him. . . for I knew I myself had weakness and I thought there was a chance for me" (The Collected Works of Neal A. Maxwell, 6:1:118). "A chance for me"--Johnson could not have stated it better. Lorenzo Snow, says Elder Maxwell with an inimitable allusive grace, "viewed others graciously and charitably as if through the 'windows of heaven'" (3:2:89). While we might not with justification write hagiographically--whatever the word really means--perhaps we can write sainthood into our own souls.

As compelling as biography, and perhaps more so, is to have the privilege of knowing--or at least of seeing and hearing--the great men and women of our own day, faults or not. (We're talking prophetic faults here.) Elder Maxwell, in his turn, "meekly but instructively" approaches a contemporary prophet: "I found President Lee to be personally kind, and yet very tough-minded intellectually. Because he knew the gospel to be true, he was fearlessly confrontive. This also permitted him to deal with institutional and personal feedback from a position of security" (L. Brent Goates, ed., He Changed My Life, 239). Again: "In my relationship with him, I found him to be kind and to be an unusually perceptive listener, for what reasons I am not certain. Thus, when I was around him, I felt completely secure rather than anxious. Others, as reported, may have had a different experience" (239). And who would not rather listen to Neal Maxwell's creative and articulate speech than to some grumbling functionary or embittered soul?

"I can truly say," wrote Brigham Young, "that I invariably found [Joseph Smith] to be all that any people could require a true prophet to be, and that a better man could not be, though he had his weaknesses; and what man has ever lived upon this earth who had none?" (Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Brigham Young, Brigham Young to David P. Smith, June 1, 1853, 343). President George Q. Cannon, another latter-day apostle, had the privilege of knowing well Brigham Young: "To describe my feelings upon the death of this man of God, whom I loved so much and who had always treated me with such kindness and affection, is impossible. He was in my eyes as perfect a man as I ever knew. I never desired to see his faults; I closed my eyes to them. To me he was a Prophet of God, the head of the dispensation on the earth, holding the keys under the Prophet Joseph, and in my mind there clustered about him, holding this position, everything holy and sacred and to be revered" (Davis Bitton, George Q. Cannon, 212). Davis Bitton had no need to include this gracious assessment of Brigham Young into an already overly long biography of Brother Cannon. That he chose to do so says a lot about Bitton's sense of the purpose and tradition of Mormon history as we have received it. There is more: "The thought that ever with me was: If I criticize, or find fault with, or judge Brother Brigham, how far shall I go?" (Bitton citing Cannon, 212). And even more: "And in contemplating that life, it seems to me perfect. In my eyes and to my feelings he was as perfect a man as could be in mortality" (210). What could Brother Bitton have been thinking? Yet his book will last.

Brigham Young's own daughter, Susa Young Gates, has left for the curious a short recital of papa's faults, faults that something call to mind Martin Luther or the endearing wizard, Gandalf:

He had some character-weaknesses": "He was easily prejudiced, and it was difficult to change his opinions when once they were formed. Then he could be sarcastic, but never spiteful. On provocation, he was sometimes very angry, but never with tempestuous explosion or rude haste." (It enraged Brother Brigham when his boys broke windows spraying glass into rooms where small children were at play.) Then: "Those who posed as reformers towards him and his people, who would destroy the Church and Kingdom of God, and especially if they were themselves 'whited sepulchres' he hated with a passion that often vented itself in violent speech." Note: "his family, who heard never an unrefined word from his lips, were nevertheless not shocked [!] when he denounced or even cursed in the pulpit the renegades who sometimes manifested their filthy bitterness to women and children not only in the streets, but a few times at least in their public addresses (Susa Young Gates and Leah D. Widtsoe, The Life Story of Brigham Young, New York MacMillan Co., 1931, 317).

Herein lies the substance of the errors at once overlooked by Brother Cannon. And we again call to mind what Elder Neal A. Maxwell says of President Harold B. Lee: "Because he knew the gospel to be true, he was fearlessly confrontive." ("I love to fight the devils, but I love to overcome them," Brigham Young, JD 3:224; "I will never cease to contend, inch by inch, until we gain the ground and possess the Kingdom," JD 8:166.) Besides, how many of Brother Brigham's public displays of tough words and acts might be seen as a going-out-on-a-limb for the Kingdom, rather than as personal failing and character flaw. Elijah was never polite to Ahab.

As for Brother Brigham's view of others' faults, or of his own:

He said little about his faults, or about other's faults. Once he rebuked his daughter for relating in detail one of her own character weaknesses. 'Don't do that,' he said. 'If you were holding a fort against an enemy, you wouldn't get up in a gap in the wall and shout, Here is a hole, climb in here!' (Gates and Widtsoe, 318).

Too many Latter-day Saints clamber up to the yelling gap today.

We have spoken of weakness--of prophets sharing 'like passions"--yet there are powerful virtues all too easy to overlook, including virtues "impossible" for me to reach.

I like the way in which Brigham Young simply moved on:

"Brigham Young went always on his calm, deliberate way. . ."

(Gates and Widtsoe, 316).

Church History Library
September 11, 2012

Mighty Prince Ammon and the Trophy Presentations at the Palace of King Khyan (Archaeological Discovery in Egypt Sheds Light on the Book of Mormon)

In what surely is one of the most dramatic moments in a book replete with dramatic moments, Book of Mormon prince and missionary Ammon withstands a band of plunderers with sword and sling (Alma 17:37-9):

37 But behold, every man that lifted his club to smite Ammon, he smote off their arms with his sword; for he did withstand their blows by smiting their arms with the edge of his sword, insomuch that they began to be astonished, and began to flee before him; yea, and they were not few in number; and he caused them to flee by the strength of his arm.

38 Now six of them had fallen by the sling, but he slew none save it were their leader with his sword; and he smote off as many of their arms as were lifted against him, and they were not a few.

39 And when he had driven them afar off, he returned and they watered their flocks and returned them to the pasture of the king, and then went in unto the king, bearing the arms which had been smitten off by the sword of Ammon, of those who sought to slay him; and they were carried in unto the king for a testimony of the things which they had done.

It is a marvelous story--but can there yet remain a "testimony of the things" which Ammon once did? A newly announced archaeological discovery in Hyksos Egypt--the first of its kind--recalls the presentation of the enemies' right arms to the Ismaelite king, Lamoni, and bespeaks the earnest ritual nature of such trophy presentations:

http://www.livescience.com/22267-severed-hands-ancient-egypt-palace.html

http://www.auaris.at/downloads/TD__Report_2011_ASAE.pdf

For a prior look at the same Book of Mormon episode in light of Ancient Near Eastern texts and iconography (but not archaeology), see John Welch and John Lundquist, "Ammon and Cutting Off the Arms of Enemies":

http://maxwellinstitute.byu.edu/publications/books/?bookid=71&chapid=817

Hugh Nibley, in his Book of Mormon classes, would also comment on "the Sebus sport":

http://maxwellinstitute.byu.edu/publications/books/?bookid=117&chapid=1371

"The games of chivalry were just as rough and deadly as the Sebus sport, and far more ancient. Sinuhe is a thousand years older than Achilles or David, and monuments from prehistoric Egypt show the first 'pharaohs' bashing the heads of rival rulers with the ceremonial mace. The famous scenes of the battles of Megiddo and Carchemish display the piles of severed hands and arms brought as trophies to the king. That's how you would prove that you had slain them; you would bring the right arms to the king and pile them up. This is Bible stuff, too, as well as Babylonian, and the Egyptians were in it, too. At Carchemish and Megiddo the king sat there with big piles of arms in front of him. Well, Ammon brought piles of arms to show his prowess to King Lamoni" (Teachings of the Book of Mormon, Lecture 51: Alma 17-19).

At Carchemish and Megiddo the trophies were laid before the king right on the spot--on the battlefront. But the evidence of sixteen hands now found in four burial pits (are these multiples of four significant?) near the palace of the Hyksos Pharaoh Khyan at Avaris even more closely recalls the statement in Alma about how the servants of the king carried the arms "in unto the king," that is, into his palace. "Two of the pits," we read, "[are] located in front of what is believed to be a throne room" (livescience.com).

Arma virumque cano--valorous deeds and glorious feats of arms are the province of the king, and the hands buried in front of Khyan's throne room serve as a lasting testimony of that fact.

Copyright 2012 by Val Sederholm