Friday, June 15, 2018

Is the book of Abraham "All Wrong"? Can the Critics be answered?

While the Saints may often find the knowledge and critique of those who represent the outsider viewpoint on Abraham or Moses satisfying, the academic world ultimately seeks so much more of us: we are now to yield up all our Scriptures, all our claims to prophetic dispensation, and all this nonsense about freedom to express belief at will.

Many are the voices that proclaim not only the downfall of the book of Abraham, but the imperative need for Latter-day Saints to surrender any scriptural merit they ascribe to it. What to do? How to answer? It's just a wee book, 14 brief pages. Or what to do with the cornucopia of seemingly genuine names, themes, customs, and language that simply pours from the paucity of pages? What to do? How to answer?

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, in the interests of sustaining the scriptural claims of the book of Abraham published an essay about the book and its reception on the Church's official Webpage. The Gospel Topics essay, "Translation and Historicity of the Book of Abraham," got wide coverage and summaries of it have become part of Church curriculum for youth and young adults, but any reader, young or old, must now also take into account the prompt response crafted by Professor Robert K. Ritner, professor of Egyptology at the University of Chicago. To begin with, all Latter-day Saints should be very grateful that Professor Ritner, in the form of several articles and one book, has joined in the debate over Abraham. That's what Saints love to see, and it shouldn't bother anyone in the least when his take on matters does not match that of Joseph Smith. The Scriptures were written for "the benefit of the world" and "to draw all men" to One, who "commandeth none that they shall not partake" (2 Nephi 26:24). Church members do not own the Scriptures they enfold to their hearts; all that the Saints possess in this ephemeral world are gift boxes containing the invitation a loving Savior sends to all men (see Alma 5). Abraham invites readers, and it's the open discussion that counts--so long as that discussion never dismisses any participant, argument, or evidence, with a wave of the hand. 

The Gospel Topics Essays have surprised, even dismayed, many a reader, Latter-day Saint or none. Given the sense of surprise, questions swirl. So has the Church herself now renounced or downgraded the book of Abraham? or any other part of her vast Scriptural heritage? That's the first question.

Ritner opens with a volley meant to stun: "Translation and Historicity" "represents new reflection on a document whose authenticity as verifiable history is now officially acknowledged to be in serious dispute." "Serious dispute" can reflect almost anything, but the volley overshoots. The title of the essay speaks to historicity; the essay makes claims based on historicity and backs the claims with evidence the reader is free to test. Much bibliography is provided. Ritner may disagree with the evidence so presented, and he may misread the intent of the Church in sponsoring the piece, well and good; but the claim of "official acknowledgment" and "[the Church's] discomfort with its own conclusions and reasoning" rings false.

While the essay does say--and the wording is awkward and unclear--matters of "veracity and value" "cannot be settled by scholarly debate [alone]," the same sentiment has always (not "newly") been made about the Book of Mormon--including its geography--the book of Moses, and even about the divinity of the history, visions, doctrines, and ordinances of the Latter-day Church. "Translation and Historicity," despite clumsy, even painful, syntax and wording and several unforced errors, is not rhetorically framed as a document of surrender; it tackles the questions swirling about the book of Abraham head on. Acknowledging the difficult, it proposes answers, not surrender.

Ritner's response--again, a must for all readers of the Gospel Topics essay--brings together everything he finds objectionable about the book of Abraham, including so very many things that Hugh Nibley, without flinching, addressed and answered thoroughly in 1968-1970, 1975, 1980, and 2013, in a long series of articles and hefty volumes. I cannot summarize all these objections in a fairly short review (Joseph Smith's attempts to deal with lacunae in the facsimiles--here, unfairly and obnoxiously labeled "forgeries"; the question of anachronisms; names: Zeptah not Egyptus, etc). But let it be understood that to invoke abstract ideas such as scholarship or Egyptology as opposed to apologists is merely a matter of being cute; it is no reasoned way to escape the hundreds of sentences, answers, arguments, evidences, insights, and pointed questions about both Abraham and the Egyptians generously put forth by Hugh Nibley (and others) over many decades. Read the "Conclusion" to his Abraham in Egypt. Here we find several dozen points of evidence for the antiquity of the book of Abraham; to review them here would take many pages. Does Professor Ritner address a single one? No. Neither does he think it necessary to do so. 

I want to see dialogue based on what books say rather than statements made on the authority of capital E "Egyptology" and "Egyptologists." Speaking Ex Cathedra stuns the hapless layman, yet just how often would like noble appeals to the authority of Egyptology and scholarship appear in the journals, monographs, and books published within the discipline? Never. It is to laugh. But Latter-day Saints also bear some fault for the fray. Dr. Ritner complains often, and justifiably, about his own articles and books not receiving due notice in discussions about the book of Abraham. From this point forward, may we all be willing, without neglect, prejudging, abuse, bullying, or ad hominem reference, and without reference to the university at which one may teach, or not teach, or to the books or articles one may have read or not read, to consider with quiet mind and heart the arguments made by every student. 

The book of Abraham belongs as much to Robert Ritner as it does to anybody else--it is certainly not the special province of the "educated" or of the "apologist." A duly credentialed Hugh Nibley, by the way, never called himself an "apologist." Not once. So why use that overworked and empty label, which properly belongs to other religious traditions within Christianity, to dismiss him?

Now Professor Ritner is quite correct to challenge the claim made in several Latter-day Saint publications that a Roman period magical papyrus from Egypt should somehow invoke what Joseph Smith explains about Abraham and the altar, or lion couch. The Demotic Magical Papyrus of London and Leiden gives us a picture of a lion couch in connection with a love charm--and Abraham is one of the various magical names written under the couch. But what of that? The vignettes don't look anything alike! Abraham, in the middle of another elaborated chain of invoked names, also appears next to Pupil of the Wedjat-Eye. Does that side-by-side occurrence, or link, automatically spell hypocephalus and thus Abraham Facsimile 2"? No. If so, how? and exactly how? Latter-day Saint students, a quarter-of-a-century since, wondered about a link between the magic and the facsimiles--well and good--but what is the substance of the claim? In other words, What should a perplexed but grateful reader do with such a claim? Teach it to friends?

And why does the Gospel Topics essay disguise the magic manual as a text belonging to an "Egyptian temple library?" Placing temple and Abraham in a single sentence may enchant the Latter-day Saint reader, but it's nothing more than sleight-of-hand. If the reader wishes to enjoy potions concocted of pulverized shrewmouse, if he wishes to revel in jumbled chains of Egyptian, Greek, Hebrew names invoked for the greater cause of love or power, The Demotic Magical Papyrus of London and Leiden is his book.

Let us spare our fellow Latter-day Saints, who know magic when they see it, from having to murmur charms and lisp spells to all challengers, while also choking back laughter: "CHA CHA CHA CHA CHA CHA CHA. Then clap thrcc timcs, TAK TAK TAK, go 'pop, pop, pop' for a long timc; hiss a grcat hiss, that is, one of some length." Lay readership? Even the least among us can see how the scholarly translator turned the very idea of translation into something of a joke wrapped in an enigma: "a great hiss, that is, one of some length." And how exactly should any of us explain the following command from the Demotic Magical Papyrus: "Come to me, Kanab"!? perhaps in terms of Kanab, Utah, Gateway to Zion and Kolob Canyon?

Further, because the magical book, or collection, postdates the Patriarchal Age by eons, the essay, to make it relevant to the book of Abraham, must resort to claiming it shares a date with the Joseph Smith papyri. But hundreds of years also separate the archive from the papyri, so how does the claim stand at all, much less lend weight to the idea, also expressed in the Gospel Topics Essay, that the Joseph Smith Papyri included what was merely a copy, or copy of a copy, of a very ancient book of Abraham?

Ritner therefore rightly contests any attempt to link these magical texts with the Abraham facsimiles--and what he says mostly repeats what Ed Ashment set forth so convincingly decades ago. Let's drop the matter, appreciate the work of these brethren in the vineyard of scholarship, and go on our way rejoicing.

Professor Ritner also correctly sets forth the difficulties in using a medieval Coptic text about the Persian King Shapur and Abraham as sound evidence for the book of Abraham. The document, after all, points to Persia, not to Ancient Egypt. While the late and derivative Coptic text may show correspondences with other stories about Abraham circulating in antiquity, and while these last may in turn recall in places our own book, its prominent appearance in "Translation and Historicity" is an unfortunate choice, an unforced error. The document in question is certainly not "a later Egyptian text," as claimed, "that tells how the Pharaoh tried to sacrifice Abraham." Again, how can our lay readership use the Coptic tale to sustain the case of the book of Abraham? None of us can be expected just to throw out smoke: Coptic signifies Egyptian, therefore Coptic text mentioning Abraham points to our book of Abraham and to Abraham in Ancient Egypt.

While Ritner further objects, with some justification, to the use in the Essay of the various Middle Kingdom sources referencing ritual slaughter to support the story of Abraham's sacrifice, the matter requires a closer look, and deeper reflection, before the student can make a proper assessment. Bridges to scriptural understanding require careful building and awareness of audience; yet, with best intent, students may sometimes construct a "bridge to nowhere" or require of alert, but fresh, readers the holding of a "bridge too far," that is to say, "a bridge too far for faith." God never requires a "bridge too far for faith."

In the grand tournaments, therefore, of Abraham and the Demotic Magical Papyrus, to cite but one instance, we all must call points as we see them, as do watchful and mature umpires, on the chair or the line, and never as partisans in a religious contest. Besides, the games and the sets play themselves out so very often as a contest of personalities and academics, each opponent vying for the mastery. The sets once lost, the tournament ended, a continuing challenge on the same questions of evidence can only be characterized as quixotic. What we rightly seek, says Hugh Nibley, may be characterized as the specific and the peculiar, the kind of evidence that approaches demonstration. The deep faith undergirding the Holy Scriptures, in their inspiration, in their writing, transmission, and preservation, in their restoration, reception, and their reading, as we strive to receive into our spiritual bloodstream the nutrients vital to eternal life, cannot flow from a tilting at windmills, from sets lost, or from trying to hold a bridge far, far, behind the line.

Here's something else that the Chicago Professor gets right: the vignette we call Facsimile 1 belongs at the beginning of Hor's Breathing Document. The Gospel Topics essay had renewed Nibley's old observation about vignettes often being placed at some remove from passages describing them. The observation holds true in many cases, but Ritner correctly refuses to disassociate the vignette we call Facsimile 1 from the Breathings Document. I had already reached the same conclusion based on what the accompanying text says of the priestly office of Hor, with whom the roll was buried. Among other offices, the accompanying text identifies Hor as "the Prophet of Min who massacres His enemies."

I quote from something posted a few years back:

Latter-day Saint students, running in the track of Professor Marc Coenen's clarifying publications about the ancient owners and dating of the Joseph Smith Book of Breathings, all take note that Hor's lot in the priesthood includes a rare office associated with Resheph-Min: "Prophet of Min who massacres his enemies." Does the office somehow correspond to the action depicted on Facsimile 1? Resheph, who dwells in the house of Montu [Manti], a Canaanite god of war inducted into the Egyptian pantheon, shares an identity in Min, who, in turn, shares a role with Horus as avenger of his father, Osiris.

Since our Theban priest, Hor, is the namesake of Horus, why not also take on Horus' avenging role, the very role belonging to Min and to Resheph? (Hor is a very common name--but let's mull over the likenesses.) Any other likenesses? That the Book of Abraham's violent "god of El-Kenah" bears comparison with Canaan's Resheph, whose name (r-sh-p) bespeaks the vivid lightning and flames of fire, must be clear to the attentive reader of the Book of Abraham! Abraham, the survivor of lightning, flame, and earthquake (see Abraham Chapter One), certainly also escapes Min-Resheph-Hor. Besides, one of Abraham's own descendants, through Ephraim, bears--and here's ritual reversal and the sign of escape--the name Resheph, perhaps now to be understood as descriptive of the God of Israel: "I cause the wind and the fire to be my chariot," Jehovah tells rescued Abraham (Abraham 2:7; see 1 Chronicles 7:25). For Resheph in a chariot see Professor Muennich's, The God Resheph in the Ancient Near East, 112f.

Though Professor Coenen sees in Facsimile 1 not a scene of sacrifice but one of Osirian resurrection and the conception of Horus (and Osiris not only escapes death, he lives to found a dynasty)--the figure on the vignette that Joseph Smith names the priest of Elkenah, or the priest of Pharaoh (who is thus the priest of the living Horus, the living king), does something recall a surviving bronze figure of "Min who massacres the enemy": "dressed in a short kilt, held up by two bands that cross over the breast and back" (p. 1113). We can add sacrifice to Coenen's descriptions of our Facsimile 1. Sacrifice, resurrection, and an endless posterity all form a single constellation that Facsimile 1 delicately manages to display.

See Marc Coenen, "The dating of the Papyri Joseph Smith I, X and XI and Min who massacres his enemies," in Willy Clarysse, Egyptian Religion: 1103-14. A detailed review of the Hor Book of Breathings and the nature and historical setting of the priestly offices of Hor and Osoroeris, including examples of symbolic slaughter and burning having correspondences to Facsimile 1, is John Gee, "Some Puzzles of the Joseph Smith Papyri," FARMS Review 20:1 (2008), 113-157. Also see "Conclusion," Abraham in Egypt, by Hugh Nibley.

The Egyptian record attests a symbolic killing of foreigners, a ceremonial act or depiction only, at centers like Philae, Edfu, and Karnak, with special maces, swords, and clubs, including "a particular kind of [bladed] mace much resembling in shape the Dd-pillar, the symbol of Osiris' enduring life and dynasty," as also resurrection (Val H. Sederholm, Papyrus British Museum 10808 and Its Cultural and Religious Setting, Leiden: Brill, 2006, 114). How strange that the bladed mace used to kill foreign victims in royal ceremony also symbolizes the perpetuity of the Osirian dynasty. But the Egyptians are not finished: "The king, playing Horus-Min, cuts off the heads of his father's enemies at the stroke of a pole-axe [or bladed mace, both sword and club]. The special word for killing at Edfu [also Ddj!] alludes to Osiris and the stability of his dynastic line" (Papyrus 10808, 117). Both name, action, and instrument of sacrifice thus confirm the dynastic line. No sacrifice; no posterity. That's also the paradox of Abraham and Isaac.

At Karnak we see paired depictions of Resheph and "the pharaoh stabbing two prisoners kneeling in a metal kettle [for burning] with their arms tied behind their backs in front of [a representation of] 'Min who [massacres] his enemies' " (Coenen, 1113). Why the doppelganger? Does the depiction show Pharaoh as both priest and king? Or does it hint at the king working in concert with his priestly representative? Pharaoh, twinned with a Canaanite god, here acts in the office of Min who massacres his enemies. And as Pharaoh, so Abraham's "priest of Pharaoh," who is also the priest of the Canaanite god of Elkenah. And as Elkenah, or as Resheph-Min, so also Ptolemaic priest Hor. Behind Min "stands a tree on a hill surrounded by a wall," a setting that recalls "the hill called Potiphar's Hill, at the head of the plain of Olishem"; the tree (or, Heliopolitan pillar) likewise recalls the sacrifice of the "three virgins" who "would not bow down to worship gods of wood or of stone" (Abraham 1:10-11; Coenen, 1113; for ceremonial hills marked with standing stones see Nibley and Rhodes, One Eternal Round, 170-3; for another royal massacre and burning of enemies, 179).

By killing the enemies of Osiris, Pharaoh and his designated priest, or double, reverse the inimical act of killing Osiris himself, and thus ensure both Osiris' resurrection and Horus' (that is, Pharaoh's) dynastic claims. It bears repeating: As the priest of Min who massacres his enemies, Hor himself becomes Pharaoh's (Horus') stand-in, a role evoking the sacrifice-mad "priest of Pharaoh" in Abraham's account. The role, however essential, is not without its risks. And here's a genuine touch: "And the Lord. . .smote the priest that he died; and there was great mourning in Chaldea, and also in the court of Pharaoh" (Abraham 1:20). "Great mourning" in Pharaoh's court? for a distant priest? By smiting the Pharaoh's ceremonial agent, God has smitten the Pharaoh himself and has also smitten his dynastic line (cf. the slaying of the firstborn in Exodus and the subsequent swallowing up of Pharaoh in the Red Sea). It is the priest's office, as agent, that matters, and the mourning over his death must then match in intensity and cloud of disaster that which prevails at the actual death of a king. One can picture the choking dust storm at Ur sweeping down to Egypt. A panicked herald runs with the news.

That is the world of Facsimile 1. But what of Facsimile 3? It's the very same thing. The Theban priesthood, following a hoary tradition, diligently searched out and put to use earlier vignettes and writings with which to interlace their own glory. As as Nibley points out, the symbolic journey in the facsimiles from altar to throne, becomes the message of Abraham. Ritner, pointing to the names and titles now appearing on the vignettes, declares that "no amount of special pleading" can save Joseph Smith's references to the figures such as king, prince, principal waiter, slave, having names like Shulem or Olimlah above their hands or heads. None is necessary.

The Seer saw deeper than the reuse of the vignettes of the late Theban priests--he looked beyond the insignificant names attached in Ptolemaic Thebes--and instead gave us the Urtext, the original text and the original intent of the vignettes, as he did in his New Translation of the Bible. What's wrong with that? Why else possess the seeric gift? Urtext is the obsession of modern philology. As for Shulem and Olimlah, the names fit perfectly in the world of Abraham. Professor Ritner never notes the possibility of such a fit, but we cannot fault an egyptologist on the count of special pleading for not knowing the latest archaeological discoveries from Syria (Nabada) that yield both Shulem and Ishmael.

Again, Brother Joseph invited the entire learned world to "find," that is, to translate all they could--and to share it posthaste. He wasn't working in a corner, hiding from the latest breakthroughs, or anything remotely like it. "Special pleading" was not his style. Neither is it ours.

Thus, when that same learned world makes and shares its findings, welcome or blistering, we need not gloss anything over. We may even answer.

All Wrong

For instance: "All of Smith’s published 'explanations' are incorrect, including the lone example defended by the new web posting: the water in which a crocodile is swimming (Fig. 12 of Fascimile 1), supposedly a representation of 'the firmament over our heads … but in this case, in relation to this subject, the Egyptians meant it to be to signify Shaumau, to be high, or the heavens.' Although Egyptians might place heavenly boats in the sky, that is not relevant 'in this case' where the water is placed below the figures and represents the Nile, not the sky. The selective defense of these explanations by the church is telling, and all other explanations are simply indefensible except by distorting Egyptian evidence."

Although Ritner quite correctly notes a jumbled use--or "selected defense"--rather than a proper thematic interweaving of what evidence we might offer, the only distortion here is the typical critic's distortion of method. As all students of Egypt know, representations may signify more than one thing, and interpretation remains perforce delicate. To Western eyes a cannot be the equivalent of -a; for the Egyptians x may be both a and -a. Through the decades, egyptologists have described such a many-valued logic in tones of wonder and astonishment.

Now consider what Joseph Smith says in his Explanation of Facsimile 1: elsewhere it is x, "but in this case, in relation to this subject, the Egyptians meant it to be to signify" y. Nibley, who calls the "folly of giving just one interpretation" "the pit into which Joseph Smith's critics have always fallen," quotes E. Otto: "the greatest possible number of meanings in the briefest possible formulation"; "a mysterious plurality of meaning"; and H. Frankfort: "unbridled chains of associations and conclusions"; "we must attempt to hear the resonance of this polyphony of meaning." ("Many-valued logic": Erik Hornung, Conceptions of God in Ancient Egypt; Hugh Nibley, Abraham in Egypt, 116-17, 124).

Ritner, therefore, is not "wrong" in identifying these zigzags with the Nile; nor is he "wrong" when he speaks of the crocodile as collecting the members of Osiris preparatory to his resurrection; nor, again, is he "wrong" when he elsewhere also wonders whether the zigzags may alternatively represent the Lake of Khonsu. Yet which Nile? which of the several roles of the crocodile? For in writings of ritual significance Nile may refer either to the terrestrial or to the celestial Nile. As for the mysterious Lake of Khonsu, the place of passage and transition in the burial rites, the whereabouts of its otherworldly location (or counterpart?) is anybody's guess. Facsimile 3 conveys, in text and in iconography, all three levels of the cosmos: the starry heavens, the terrestrial court, and the netherworld--and the events depicted thereon may unfold in any one, or all, of those realms (Abraham in Egypt, 123). And does not the same thing hold true for Facsimile 1? It does. Again: "All of Smith's published 'explanations' are incorrect." Here is special pleading; for Ritner elsewhere confirms the idea of the croc as "god of Pharaoh": "Horus-Sobek was a god of Pharaoh, so one out of five [explanations] is correct" (Robert K. Ritner, ed., The Joseph Smith Egyptian Papyri, 118). That being so, you would hope that "Translation and Historicity" would place emphasis on, rather than neglect, such a direct hit.

Egyptian Religion is not a monolith, a fact we must keep in mind when we interpret the figures and representations found on temple walls and papyrus rolls. Every region, city, mesa, or kiva, as throughout Classical Greece, as at Hopi, unfurls its own religious and symbolic universe. In the Faiyum, or "the inland sea" region (pa-ym--a Semitic word), crocodile is king. The Book of the Faiyum equates that inland sea with the Mehet-Weret, the Great Flood Waters of the Celestial Cow in which the crocodile with pharaonic crown swims in one eternal round (Horst Beinlich, Das Buch vom Fayum and this essay: ,

While the cosmos of the Faiyum might not match Facsimile 1 in every particular, local interpretations still resonate with the larger abstraction we call Ancient Egyptian Religion. In light of the evidence from the Pyramid Texts, Utterance 317 (R. Faulkner, The Ancient Egyptian Pyramid Texts, 99 and n.6), according to which Sobek swims in "the flood of the Great Inundation"--that is, "The sky according to [Professor] Sethe"--and in light of the Book of the Faiyum, we can unpack what Joseph Smith sets forth, as follows:

The zigzags do not here, as in most (or many) cases, represent Mehet-Weret (Flood-Great), the Great Cosmic Flood, or the Celestial Expanse, but in this case, in relation to this [particular] subject, they represent the very heights of heaven in which the crocodile as king and sun god reigns crowned and supreme. As Horus the Elder spreads his wings over all below, so the crocodile, as god of Pharaoh, swims round his domain, master of all he "surveys."

Does Pharaoh rightfully attain such reach? does his realm extend even to Syria? Yes, says Brother Joseph, for the priest of Syrian Elkenah is the priest of Pharaoh, his representative in whose name and with whose delegated power he acts. Thus, when the priest is smitten, the "court of Pharaoh" mourns. The play of identities, even of substitute death, or sacrifice--a favorite theme of Hugh Nibley's--fits the ancient world like a glove.

As in other Near Eastern and Mediterranean texts, the king (or his representative) is about to sacrifice a victim on a mountain top, when struck down by lightning. Thus: "Shamau to be high or the heavens," refers to both the ritual height of sacrifice, and, at once, to the beetling look at the watery depths below. Is there any like trace of these things in the archaeological record? A stele representing Ramesses the Great worshipping a Canaanite god is known from Syria. The name of that god should be read Elkenah.
(See: "The god of Elkenah in Hieroglyphs and in the Book of Abraham":

Am I open to other interpretations of these symbols? Of course. And Ritner's (often multiple) explanations are of deepest import. That's how the discipline works. Otherwise, we're left with the sort of simplistic arrangements parading as definitive science that everywhere propagate on the Internet, that glorious domain of the frosh. Who hasn't seen a chart comparing Joseph Smith's interpretations of the facsimiles with those of a freshman's confused assortment of egyptologists, including a few consigned to oblivion: in the left column, Joseph Smith; in the right, "Egyptology"? Students of Egypt never reduce themselves to such a simplistic view of the ancient evidence, x is only x and y is y, except when distorting method to snap at an unwelcome reading. Neither do they indiscriminately pick "Egyptologists" out of the air.

There is never any good reason to box oneself in like that--unless there's a need to box ears: "all other explanations [the Mormons may offer] are simply indefensible"; "all" Smith's "'explanations'" are incorrect"--not even worth calling explanations, rather "explanations."

We all must face amateur hour, and some, perhaps justifiably, learn to snap off "answers." Packaged books arrive in the mail; an early morning call awakes. The voice on the other end assures us that Ancient Egyptian is really Finnish. I've always been curious about Finland, so, dazed, I listen. The person on the other end of the lines says he has just had a wonderful exchange with Professor Erik Hornung--or was he just about to call him?

How to deal with such unwelcome packages and morning calls? How to deal with the Kemeticists, Saycians, Rosicrucians, or even those Mormons? Mormons should never get flustered, or throw up hands in surrender, just because an egyptologist or assyriologist gets testy or declines to discuss some position or evidence.

John Baines, Oxford University, warns against such testy response to ideas originating outside the discipline (John Baines,"Restricted Knowledge, Hierarchy, and Decorum," JARCE 27, 1-23). We might miss an insight, he says, by throwing up the walls. Alas! as Professor Baines reports, we belong to a take-no-prisoners discipline, riddled with cliques, and in which every other egyptologist must always be wrong for "us" to be right. Trenches zigzag the field--how startling, how devastating, what one egyptologist will say about another!--and we should always forgive our colleagues, for whom reputation is ever at stake, for failing to lay down the weapons of the discipline when addressing the hapless lay man who blithely stumbles into no man's land. And woe to the novice who appeals to antiquated Budge!

And in charity to Joseph Smith, let's remember that he worked after the hieroglyphs had been cracked but before the discipline was well launched. Even so, lacking access to those few then working in the field, he had the good faith to share his own ideas with the whole world--his results were published in New York City so well as in Nauvoo. Does he ever claim that his interpretations are the only possible ones? No. He asks: If the world can find out these numbers (numbered figures), please do let us know (Explanation, Facsimile 2). Coming to grips with the mind of the ancients takes decades--not a tap on the screen. Because of the powerful changes in our understanding of Egyptian religion, especially since the 1980's, it's unfair to judge Brother Joseph's work by charting the conclusions of egyptologists working in the discipline's genesis. Some of the best work came early on, it is true, but the differences in understanding are revolutionary.

Again, Professor Robert Ritner hears in the Prophet's Explanation voluble ravings in the manner of pre-Egyptologist Athanasius Kircher (Ritner, "Translation and Historicity of the Book of Abraham--A Response"). Here's how Kircher translates an obeliskful of hieroglyphs, as cited by Ritner: 

Hemphta the supreme spirit and archetype infuses its virtue and gifts in the soul of the sidereal world, that is the solar spirit subject to it whence comes the vital motion in the material or elemental world, and an abundance of all things and variety of species arises. From the fruitfulness of the Osirian bowl, in which, drawn by some marvelous sympathy, it flows ceaselessly. . . 

Is Ritner correct? The "ceaselessly flowing" example from Kircher by which Ritner illustrates what he considers Joseph Smith's own absurd interpretations lacks the specificity, balance, concision, and coherence one finds throughout the thematically compact book of Abraham--and it lacks a little mystery besides. Kircher elaborates on but a single, spent, idea.

Joseph Smith's Abraham, including the Explanation of facsimile 2, merits a second look. Even should the reader disagree with him to the point of laughter, Joseph's take on the matter merits a jot of charity. Remember what he sadly records of the persecution he continuously suffered at the hands of even neighbors: "being of very tender years, and persecuted by those who ought to have been my friends and to have treated me kindly, and if they supposed me to be deluded to have endeavored in a proper and affectionate manner to have reclaimed me" (Joseph Smith--History 1: 1:28). Where was kindness, propriety, affection?

Whether we believe even a jot of it, we can all take a charitable look at Joseph Smith's explanation of Kolob (the central solar figure) as being: "The First Creation . . First in government, last pertaining to the measurement of time. The measurement according to celestial time." The Prophet's focus on revolutions, temporal cycles and measurement, "grand governing" and thus hierarchically descending cosmic powers; on stars, earth, and sun, and transmission of light; or on altars and sacrifices and thrones, hardly deserves to be pilloried by either supremely gifted and educated scholars (who really must smile at amateurs); or by the countless following eager sophisticates who, though professing an advanced and and up-to-millennial understanding of all things past, present, and on Wikipedia, have never given a moment's thought to the symbolic representations found on works of great antiquity.

Nibley and Rhodes (2013: ps. 240-241) helpfully sum up Joseph Smith's "brief explanation" with the following headings over "words used":

1) cosmology: earth, planets, firmament, Sun, stars, moon, revolution
2) measurement and number: measurements of timecelestial time, day, cubit, years, one thousand, quarters, revolution
3) transmission of power or energy: receiving light, borrows its light, governs planets or stars, receives its power, governing power
4) hierarchy or dominion (intelligence and purpose): creation, residence, government, key, power, God, throne, authority, crown, light, the governing power
5) ordinances and procedures (relating the above to humanity): sacrifice, altar, Temple
6) Joseph Smith's use of "special idiom or notation to convey the above," that is, the idea of representation, overlapping of symbolism, iconography conveying more than one meaning:represent, signify, pertaining to, answering to, "but in this case, in relation to this subject, the Egyptians meant it to signify" x and not just y.

Whether these last themes point to Kircher or to the work of living egyptologists on, say, the various books of the netherworld, or even the hypocephali, is a matter for the diligent reader to discover for himself. 

Another complaint, rhetorically crafted and targeted for a particular, and thankfully uninformed, lay audience alone: "Smith confuses human and animal heads and males with females." But as all students know, so do the Ancient Egyptians, and with astonishing and bewildering frequency. As for the particular confusion of male with female, please note that the Ma'at figure in Facsimile 3 wears a sheath dress that leaves the bosom uncovered. Even in the rough Hedlock woodcut, from which the facsimile was printed, the nipple can be seen; on the original papyrus, the nipple would have been clearly and indisputably visible to any observer; the same must be said for the Isis figure behind the throne, even though the Hedlock facsimile gives us little help here. Just look at any other representations of Ma'at on papyrus--including elsewhere on the Joseph Smith Papyri. Given such artistic attention to the feminine, unmistakable to either prophet or disciple or wife or mother or visitor by the hundreds, why on earth would Joseph Smith, on purpose, make the same kind of illogical and improbable associations, x equals ax equals -a, that the Egyptians themselves make in almost every depiction or writing? (For more on the symbolic multiplicity of the Egyptians, as well as the Prophet's symbolic reading of Facsimile 3, see Hugh Nibley, "All the Court's a Stage," in Abraham in Egypt, a book published some 40 years ago.)

Latter-day Saints will not have our minds "stolen away" into believing that Joseph Smith could not tell the women from the men on the vignette. What's the point of having a Seer, unless he can scan symbolic depths not visible to the natural eye? And what's the point of having a gifted scholar like Hugh Nibley, if we're not even going to read his words or ponder his sources? Neither neglect nor prejudice is any excuse at all. Remember, critics not only mock our appeals to testimony, they also do all they can to prevent our reading the words of our own scholars. In doing so, are they not diminishing us as a culture and as a people? Have we so little confidence in our own honor and ability as a university-building Church, that we must shrink before every wind of ridicule?

The Rise of the Book of Abraham

Professor Ritner closes by asking the Church Authorities to discard the book of Abraham as canonical Scripture and instead consider it Joseph Smith's "perhaps[!] well-meaning" but flawed attempt to sound lost cultural values beyond his depth. The confident, caustic tone insists: "With the Book of Abraham now confirmed as a perhaps well-meaning, but erroneous invention by Joseph Smith, the LDS church may well devote some reflection to the status of the text."

Church leaders made no response. Demands come and go. And it comes as no surprise when men and women "cast many things away which are written and esteem them as things of naught" (2 Nephi 33:2). The living Abraham continues upon his throne, in his exalted state, and forever holds the keys of his book (Doctrine and Covenants 132).

I do have a response to Professor Ritner's request, however.

It's high time for one realization to dawn on critics of Abraham's writings: Joseph Smith gave us more than one book of Abraham. The Joseph Smith Translation of Genesis yields as many surprises about Abraham's world as does the Pearl of Great Price. Revelations in the Doctrine and Covenants and many verses in the Book of Mormon give us yet a Third Book of Abraham. 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th Nephi find a worthy match in Abraham.

Dismiss any one of these books, and we'll hand you yet another. Discard Potiphar's Hill, and see Mount Hanabal rise lofty among the Mountains of Moab. Reject Shulem, and find blessed Esaias (Doctrine and Covenants 84). Each of these various "books" of Abraham also contain new words of divine revelation received in his dispensation and now offered to us--words about covenants made long ago by the Father of the Faithful.

And Latter-day Saints, by unanimous vote, stand in eternal covenant relation to the book of Abraham--to every last word and explanation. Its place, including its genuine nature, stands as one of unquestioned permanence--no matter how the translation was effected or what opinions about the ineffable method of seeric learning and reading we may choose to hold.

There is no end to the revelatory world of Joseph Smith. In like manner, our covenantal link to the World of Abraham continues. The book of Abraham belongs to what we call a Pearl of Great Price. We will never sell the pearl or give it away. Neither can the covenantal link all members have with the book--affirmed by unanimous vote in General Conference--ever be broken. As we hold true to that covenant, other books will yet come forth from the dust. There is more of parchment and of papyri than we can now imagine.

One thing we can take from the Gospel Topics Essay: The living Prophets and The Councils of the Church will never set the various books of Abraham aside--not now, not any of them, not a jot or a tittle of them, no never. Neither will the seeric Explanations of the three facsimiles ever disappear from the hundreds of thousands of copies of Scripture, copiously pouring from the presses day by day. Will living prophets claiming direct revelation (available to all) about the genuine nature of the Book of Abraham--and isn't that what the essay says?--ever stop the presses from rolling? You might as well stretch out your hand to stop the mighty Missouri River in its course, or turn it upstream.

Attacks will make no difference whatsoever to any claim carrying the revelatory imprimatur of the founding Prophet. Answers to attacks, new and old, scriptural and linguistic and historical, will continue to be shared to all willing to study them. And, in the simplest expression of which I am capable, the linguistic evidence sustaining the name and description of Kolob will never cease to hold the interest both of Latter-day Saints and of many, many others. Such telling witnesses to truth will yet fill the whole earth, as the waters fill the great deep.

Tuesday, February 13, 2018

At Home with Laban and Lehi

What was the cost, when Laman and Lemuel left home to take up a wandering life?

And. . . from the excavations near the Temple, "out of the dust," what appears to be the seal of "Isaiah the prophet" (see Isaiah 29): .

Candida Moss:

Sunday, February 4, 2018

"Period of Time" in the Book of Mormon


I can no longer be your king. These are the words of the aged King Benjamin spoken before a Grand Assembly of his people:

I say unto you that I have caused that ye should assemble yourselves together that I might rid my garments of your blood, at this period of time when I am about to go down to my grave, that I might go down in peace, and my immortal spirit may join the choirs above in singing the praises of a just God.

And moreover, I say unto you that I have caused that ye should assemble yourselves together, that I might declare unto you that I can no longer be your teacher, nor your king (Mosiah 2: 28-29).

What catches the attention for the student of ancient languages is the aptness of the phrase period of time, which makes for a rather cloying, long phrase in English. Wouldn't it be better just to say: at this time?

Let's consider again what follows the phrase: "at this period of time when I am about to go down to my grave, that I might go down in peace, and my immortal spirit may join the choirs above."

Here is the idea of the tequfah, a Hebrew word signifying the turn or cycle of time, the march of the seasons, and the mark of the end of a cycle, the end of a year. For instance, the great year of Kolob in Facsimile 2 belongs under the heading of tekufah.

"At this revolution of time." 

That I might rid my garments of your blood, at this tekufah when I am about to go down (down cycle: death).

This time of ending, or of a period shortly before or marking the beginning of a new season (as in the newly deciphered Qumranic calendar)--thus both beginning and ending.

Of course the English expression "period of time" refers to the same thing. Consider the Greek word periodos. Periodos signifies I "a going round, the making a circuit round II a way round: a circuit compass III a book of travels. . . map IV a going round in a circle, a cycle of time, a period of time 3. the orbit of a heavenly body V a well-rounded sentence, period" (Liddel and Scott, Greek-English Lexicon).

But where the Nephites are concerned, it's the idea of the tequfah (or tekufah): the end of an era; a break in the action (as in Helaman's epistle to Moroni); a space between, as at Qumran, according to the recently translated cryptic calendar.

"one eternal round" Facsimile 2 as a map and periodos, and as tekufah. Describes tekufot and is itself a tekufah, or representation of a tekufah--thus a calendar so well as map, a mapping out of both space and time.

Here is also the meaning of "the season," tekufah, and "the end," the qetz (also qayits, as in the pun in Jeremiah 1). To lay up fruit against the season" thus signifies to lay up fruit against the turning of the season, that is, into the season beyond the harvest. The qetz and the tekufah appear together in the words of Zenos: that's a bullseye for the Hebraic nature of his allegory.

Compare 2 Nephi 9 body and spirit

Friday, December 29, 2017

What is a Hypocephalus? What is the Aztec Calendar Stone? What of the Aztec Mosaic Shields?

The Aztec Calendar Stone and Mosaic Shields in Light of Book of Abraham Facsimile 2

Too Close To Be Ignored

In one of the many startling moments of One Eternal Round, a study of Abraham facsimile 2, Hugh Nibley and Michael Rhodes describe the Aztec Calendar Stone as "too closely resembling the Joseph Smith hypocephalus to be ignored" (197; see pages197-200). The reader holds his breath--a vast distance obtains between Egypt and Mesoamerica--as they quote the long forgotten but striking words of Zelia Nuttall:

The Calendar Stone is "an image of the nocturnal heavens as it is of a vast terrestrial state which. . . had been established as a reproduction upon earth of the harmonious order and fixed laws which apparently governed the heavens." It is also, note Nibley and Rhodes, "a calendar with stars as indicators, marking time and space together," even--so Nuttall--"a complete count. . . expressive of a great era of time." "Like the hypocephalus, the Calendar Stone is conspicuously divided into two parts," worlds above and below (Zelia Nuttall, The Fundamental Principles of Old and New World Civilizations: a comparative research based on a study of the Ancient Mexican religious, sociological and calendrical systems, Cambridge, MA).

Referencing Nuttall, Nibley and Rhodes continue: "Around the center are placed 'symbols of the four elements, the union of which was believed by the native philosophers to be essential for the production and maintenance of life.'" Nibley here recalls the four sons of Horus standing just below the central quadrifrons, or four-faced, creator and sun god, though on the upside-down bottom side of the hypocephalus. The Egyptians associated these sons of Horus with the funerary canopic jars, which hold the vital organs taken from the deceased and sealed up for the mummy's promised day of resurrection. The Calendar Stone's "central luminary," in Nuttall's words, who provides "the motive power," even "the divine power who ruled heaven and earth from a changeless and fixed centre in the heaven," is likewise quadrifrons, gazing out toward the four directions: "the quadruple lord, 'He who looks in four directions." The Calendar, at once, depicts the fourfold former world eras, "ages that have collapsed--Jaguar, Wind, Fire, and Rain" (David Carrasco, Daily Life of the Aztecs, 174). The "Four Movement" name of the present, fifth, age is Earthquake.

While the sons of Horus (or surely also of Geb, god of earth, whose four "sons" travel back-and-forth in the four quarters of the earth), certainly keep the elements of life in their manifestation as the canopic jars, there is more to consider; for the quadruple heads of the central ram-headed figure, according to Egyptian texts, also represent the four ba's, or the four spirits, powers, colors, cardinal points, or elements, so well as the four dynasts ruling over their respective patriarchal spheres and ages, these last being primeval eras in which semi-mythical rulers held sway long before Egypt's Pyramid Age (see David Klotz, Adoration of the Ram: Five Hymns to Amun-Re from Hibis Temple, 99, 168).

As element or mineral, we accordingly find the successive generations, ages, or reigns, of Re (fire), Shu (air), Geb (earth), and Osiris (water). The quadrifrons Ram of Mendes, ancient and enduring image of fruitfulness and potency, at the center of the hypocephalus, is thus the forefather of every king, beginning with Re, Shu, Geb, Osiris, who "happen to be the male progenitors of the Heliopolitan cosmogony (Re-Atum begat Shu, Shu begat Geb, Geb begat Osiris)" (Klotz, 99). Osiris' son Horus succeeds him, the pattern for each successive historical king, or Horus, of Egypt, a fifth age. If such concerns stand revealed in the iconography of the hypocephalus, how telling that the first chapter of the book of Abraham, from verse one forward, comments on the patriarchal order that held sway in earlier eras, even as it sets forth the origins of Egyptian kingship and even introduces the cosmogonic and cosmological themes that make up the balance of the book.

Many have wondered why Joseph Smith so blithely termed the hypocephalus "Facsimile 2 of the book of Abraham." Did he not know that the object was nothing more than an ordinary funerary amulet? Everyone on the Internet knows that.

The correspondence of color and mineral to the fourfold Mendesian Ram also evokes Nibley's rare quest to trace links between the hypocephalus idea and green gemstones, a theme to which he and Rhodes devote an entire--and deeply beautiful--chapter. And why not? For as David Carrasco points out of the Aztec Calendar: Tonatiuh, the sun god, "wears a headband studded with three jewels of precious greenstone. . . and circular ear spools with [descending] greenstone jewel signs" (Carrasco, 173). In fact, the entire Stone glistens with  representations of precious jewels, including says David Stuart, the green xiuhhuitzolli diadem.

The round hypocephalus, placed "under the head" of the mummy is, significantly, also a "headband."

Diadem? In another chapter, Nibley and Rhodes treat the all-important idea of the cosmocrator, the conquering emperor who aspires to rule the whole cosmic demesne. Nibley notes how the name of the owner of the hypocephalus, Sheshonq, is associated with a whole line of Egyptian cosmocrators--including Pharaoh Sheshonq himself. Whether Nibley's identification of a royal Sheshonq, in this particular case, is correct or not, another significant name, Heliopolis, or Pillar City, occurs more than once on the hypocephalus rim--and Nibley hastens to note the significance of the place as the center of royal and priestly rule and the setting of the unfolding of the solar cosmogony. At once, Heliopolis is both an earthly temple complex and a heavenly solar city, a pillar or axis of the Egyptian cosmos.

Mayanist David Stuart, in a paper appearing just this month, "El emperador y el cosmos," notes how glyphs suggesting the names of Moteuczoma II (the same Moctezuma or Moteczoma who welcomed Cortez), the Warrior god Huitzilopochtli, so well as glyphs representing the precious green jade and the word central plaza or market, all occur on the Aztec Calendar. To Stuart, these glyphs signal the (solar) deification of the warrior king, or in other words, a solar identity for Moteuctzoma II as cosmic emperor, what we might even call a "solarization" of his face. Remember that the very name of the Aztec ruler, Frowning in severity like a lord, reflects the angry heat of the sun at its apex (Gordon Whittaker, And now consider Dimitri Meeks's explanation of the hypocephalus as "solarized" head of the deceased, who will now be identified with Re, or rather Amun-Re, and participate in his ever-encircling procession. In this sense, the hypocephalus becomes a mask, as replacement and substitute for Amun-Re's invisible head. (Amun signifies "hidden"; "not visible.") (Dimitri Meeks, "Dieu masque, Dieu sans tete," Archeo-Nil, 1991).

The Solar stone, Professor Stuart postulates, was "carefully designed to link the above-mentioned energized and animated cosmic spaces and spheres to the specific identities of Moteuczoma II and the heroic deity of the Mexica, Huitzilopochtli, both represented as if one sole being in the center of the cosmos" (Stuart, "El emperador y el cosmos: nueva mirada a la piedra del sol"," Arqueologia Mexica, No. 24, 2018; for a draft of the same in English, see also: ).

And exactly who is the Transcendent Cosmic Amun-Re (Hidden Supreme god-and-Sun), as Professor Klotz "names" the central figure on the hypocephalus? There is no Western "exactly" to keep in mind--and certainly no pretentiously "precise" reading. For is this central power not also, so Klotz, the Cosmic Amun-Shu (Hidden-Supreme god-and-brilliant solar atmosphere)? the Unified and Resurrected Re-Osiris (sun-and-deified deceased king)? as also the four-faced Ram of Mendes: Re-Atum, Shu, Geb, Osiris? or even the Transcendent Amun--Ta-Tanen (Hidden Supreme god-and-emergent god of Earth)? Does it not also represent the resurrected Osiris Sheshonq? or even the royal Osiris Sheshonq? The accompanying text refers to him simply, though most Abrahamically, as the "great" and "noble" god of the "First Time," ruler of the five regions of cosmic space.

Again, How does the cosmology of the Calendar Stone tie-in to ritual? For the Mexica, the sun must "draw its power from the sacrifices carried out by gods and humans" (Carrasco, 173), a rejuvenating power. We recall how the Prophet Joseph Smith explains Facsimile 2 in light of "revelation" "from God to Abraham, as he offered sacrifice upon an altar." (His own community also attempted to offer Abraham himself upon an altar--but God delivered him.) David Stuart notes that the Aztec Calendar is essentially the uppermost level of a fourfold altar, an altar positioned in the capital's main plaza to represent the enthroned center and thus the axis of the universe. As such, the Stone also becomes a mirror image, reflecting both day and night, sun and stars, and especially the Pleiades that signal the cosmic center and govern the time of the all-important New Fire Ceremony, the re-igniting of sun and hearth fire, a new and ever-repeating cosmogony, cycling round every 52 years (Stuart, "El emperador y el cosmos").

The seven stars of the Pleiades cross the zenith of the night sky to signal the regeneration and re-transmission of the solar flame. When Professor Stuart further notes how the Pleiades and the Sun, standing at the separate poles of the cosmos--night and day--become each the reflection of the other, and that here we find the true significance of the Calendar Stone, we come close indeed to the idea of the Transcendent Cosmic Amun-Re, the hidden Re, or power beyond the sun.  For the Egyptians, I note, the sun is a star, for the stars are all Re's, or suns (r'.w). Re thus stands lord of Re's (nb r'.w). Joseph Smith sees on the hypocephalus a celestial hierarchy, including hints at multiple "suns." Does the idea of Enish-go-on-dosh being both "one of the governing planets" so well as sun, though found in the upside-down region, or of Kolob as both superstar and supersun, stray far off the mark?

And does not Joseph Smith inform us that the sun, according to the Egyptians, "receives its power through the medium" of other celestial powers, an idea which signals the necessity of a continuing solar replenishment? Everything about this replenishment and renewal is timed by complementary celestial revolutions, according to his Explanation anyhow. The hypocephalus, like the Calendar Stone, is thus programmed by "the measurement of time," including, "the measurement of this earth." Ritual procedure thus accords with cosmically timed measurement to ensure the continuing downward flow of divine power. That's the Egyptian view and the Egyptian practice--and that's also what Brother Joseph is telling us.

The timing, which also depends on the convergence of the various earthly, lunar, solar, and planetary or stellar, cycles or revolutions, requires the precision of a priestly class of observers.

David Carrasco, detailing the standard reading of the iconography, speaks of "a narrow band of the twenty day-signs circling the central core of the stone," which again describes the coordinated revolutions of earthly and celestial time (Carrasco, 174). Another ring--of turquoise, the precious greenstone--runs round the symbolic "day count," and is pierced by the four solar rays at the four quarters of the cosmic scheme (see Khristaan Villela,; and K.
Villela and M. E. Miller, eds,. The Aztec Calendar Stone).

Stuffed between the rays are a profusion of feather symbols, which to me recalls the double ostrich feather crown, a symbol of intense and translucent atmospheric radiance, sported by the standing solar figure in the upper half of the hypocephalus disk. His tall feather crown pierces, at apex, or zenith, the rim of facsimile 2 (here see One Eternal Round, 267). Along with the feathers are what Villela tells us are likely droplets of blood, the sacrificial blood that empowers the whole. Might they also represent droplets of atmospheric water, shot through with light--the vivifying rains? The outermost circle, the rim, represents "the blue sky vault," which recalls the text on the hypocephalus rim that speaks to the ever-encircling course of the sun and his retinue through the sky with its bright Heliopolitan gates or shrines. (Hugh Nibley notes how the outer rim of Achilles' Shield displays the earth-encircling Okeanos.)
(For new translations of facsimile 2 rim, see .)

II  Test Results

"Too closely resembling the Joseph Smith hypocephalus to be ignored?" Note how, in this last sentence, "Joseph Smith hypocephalus" signals both the standard Egyptian hypocephalus and, at once, the Prophet's Explanation of the particular example in his possession. In other words, not only might we compare the round Calendar to the round Egyptian object per se, we can go so far as to compare what Mesoamericanists say of the one to what Joseph Smith says of the other.

So let's hold the explanations of both Joseph Smith and the Egyptologists regarding hypocephali studiously in mind, as we examine the principal themes that Professor Stuart, writing this very year, descries in the Aztec Solar Stone:

1) temporal and solar dynamism
2) the vertical axis, earth to celestial zenith
3) the idea of the cosmic center (both in heaven and on earth)
4) cyclical movement
5) the cosmic rule of the divinized earthly ruler, as warrior, in the likeness of the sun
6) the divinized earthly ruler as the "embodiment of time"

Nibley and Rhodes (2013: ps. 240-241) helpfully sum up Joseph Smith's "brief explanation" with the following headings over "words used":

1) cosmology: earth, planets, firmament, Sun, stars, moon, revolution
2) measurement and number: measurements of timecelestial time, day, cubit, years, one thousand, quarters, revolution
3) transmission of power or energy: receiving light, borrows its light, governs planets or stars, receives its power, governing power
4) hierarchy or dominion (intelligence and purpose): creation, residence, government, key, power, God, throne, authority, crown, light, the governing power
5) ordinances and procedures (relating the above to humanity): sacrifice, altar, Temple
6) Joseph Smith's use of "special idiom or notation to convey the above," that is, the idea of representation, overlapping of symbolism, iconography conveying more than one meaning: represent, signify, pertaining to, answering to, "but in this case, in relation to this subject, the Egyptians meant it to signify" x and not just y.

We don't yet know how Professor Stuart's peers will receive his new interpretations of the Stone, but that's not our present concern. We speak of a Prophet; and his most vocal, and even mocking and shaming, critics to the contrary, Joseph Smith's spare and orderly Explanation shows, should we compare it to what others say about like circular cosmic drawings, a thoughtful and ordered thematic reading. Professor Robert Ritner hears in the Prophet's Explanation voluble ravings in the manner of pre-Egyptologist Athanasius Kircher (Ritner, "Translation and Historicity of the Book of Abraham--A Response"). Here's how Kircher translates a handful of hieroglyphs:

Hemphta the supreme spirit and archetype infuses its virtue and gifts in the soul of the sidereal world, that is the solar spirit subject to it whence comes the vital motion in the material or elemental world, and an abundance of all things and variety of species arises. From the fruitfulness of the Osirian bowl, in which, drawn by some marvelous sympathy, it flows ceaselessly. . . 

Is Ritner correct? The "ceaselessly flowing" example from Kircher by which Ritner illustrates what he considers Joseph Smith's own absurd interpretations lacks the specificity, balance, concision, and coherence one finds throughout the thematically compact book of Abraham--and a little mystery besides. Kircher elaborates on but a single, spent, idea.

Joseph Smith's Abraham, including the Explanation of facsimile 2, merits a second look. Even should one disagree with him to the point of laughter, Joseph's take on the matter merits a jot of charity. Remember what he sadly records of the persecution he continuously suffered at the hands of even neighbors: "being of very tender years, and persecuted by those who ought to have been my friends and to have treated me kindly, and if they supposed me to be deluded to have endeavored in a proper and affectionate manner to have reclaimed me" (Joseph Smith--History 1: 1:28). Where was kindness, propriety, affection?

Whether we believe even a jot of it, we can all take a charitable look at Joseph Smith's explanation of Kolob (the central solar figure) as being: "The First Creation . . First in government, last pertaining to the measurement of time. The measurement according to celestial time." The Prophet's focus on revolutions, temporal cycles and measurement, "grand governing" and thus hierarchically descending cosmic powers; on stars, earth, and sun, and transmission of light; or on altars and sacrifices and thrones, hardly deserves to be pilloried by either supremely gifted and educated scholars (who really must smile at amateurs); or by the countless following eager sophisticates who, though professing an advanced and and up-to-millennial understanding of all things past, present, and on Wikipedia, have never given a moment's thought to the symbolic representations found on works of great antiquity.

III  Case Two: The Turquoise Mosaic Shields 

Though products of vastly differing cultures, such nevertheless breathtaking points of thematic comparison between the hypocephalus and the Calendar Stone, which certainly date from chapter drafts of One Eternal Round made by Hugh Nibley in the mid-Eighties (the book was posthumously published in 2013), also serve to introduce my own new comparative findings about another Mexica artifact depicting the cosmos: the mosaic Aztec shields. These rare mosaic shields also merit a page or two in any consideration of the hypocephalus.

"The mosaic design on the shield now in the British Museum. . . portrays the principal division of the Aztec universe. The small circular shape of the shield corresponds to the surface of the earth. At its center is a circle of mosaic with four rays. . . this is a solar disc. The four rays emanating from the solar disc divide the earth into four quarters. In each quarter stands a sky-bearer" (Colin McEwan, et al., Turquoise Mosaics from Mexico, 62). As the reader will recall, the sons of Horus may also take the role of sky-bearers at the corners of the earth. The Prophet Joseph Smith explained these last figures, as follows: "Represents this earth in its four quarters."

Of a recent finding we further read "The position of the mosaic disc discovered at the bottom of Offering 99 [at Templo Mayor--the pyramidal center of the universe--to which compare Nibley and Rhodes, 100] links it with the night-time journey of the stars through the earth's interior during the recreation of the Mesoamerican underworld--one of the very important functions of this journey was the underworld's fertilization."

A similar theme obtains on the lower, nightly, half of the hypocephalus, which depicts the upside-down netherworld dominated by the mother cow and replete with symbolism of her impregnation, for she will bear the brilliant central power which, in the form of the four-faced Ram of Mendes, we can call the Transcendent Cosmic Amun-Re (see discussion in One Eternal Round). For the Egyptians, the mother cow, represents Hathor, a goddess who is not only the mother of the sun, but herself the Female Sun, Solar Disk of Solar Disks, at Dendara, the Female Heliopolis, or Sun City. Joseph Smith expresses the idea thus: "and [the cow] is said by the Egyptians to be the Sun." Even so, Rait, nearly a textual "unknown," hardly contests Re's glorious one act play.

The name Joseph claims the Egyptians gave her: Enish-go-on-dosh is right on the mark for the Lady of Dendara. Should on-dosh reflect 'n-ds(r), beautiful in (her) solar redness (as the Eye of the sun); then Enish-go might well answer to ins-q3, both "exalted in scarlet" and also "exalted as the scarlet solar eye." I see the name as referring to the Female Sun, the exalted (go) and beautiful (on) Red (enish, dosh) Solar Eye (Enish and Dosh), in an elaborated word play typical of such Hathorian names and, at once, powerful recalling the name attached to one of Horus' sons in his manifestation as fiery red star--one of the seven Akhu--that is, as a sun himself: Dosh-iati-imi-hawt-ins (the One whose two eyes are red [dSr.(ty) j3t.ty], who dwells in the House of Scarlet [Hw.t jnsw.t], i.e., in the Horizon, sometimes also called the House of Dosh [Hw.t dSr.wt]). 

The surprising Egyptian view of a female sun in a feminine netherworld, the womb of creation, at opposite pole from the solar powers on the upper half of the disk, leads us on to Professor Stuart's conclusion about the Stone: "We might with justification argue that the upward-facing solar image was but a reflection and was thus, in a concrete and physical sense, materially 'in the earth,' while, at once, uniting the earthly and netherworldly sphere with the solar zenith." (translating, "Puede verse que la imagen solar acostada fue un reflejo y estuvo, materialmente, 'en la tierra,' uniendo la esfera del suelo con el cenit solar").

IV  A Many-Valued Logic and an Openness to Surprise

Eduard Seler, losing patience with the array of re-interpreters of the Aztec "Sunstone" ("Earthstone?"), famously decreed of the central figure: "It is the sun--no more and no less." David Stuart takes a more nuanced view. When Professor Stuart asks us to accept that a particular representation on the Calendar or elsewhere need not refer to a sole god or a single concept but to multiple interpretations, we wonder whether he has, after all, read Erik Hornung on the many-valued logic of the Egyptian mind (Hornung, The One and the Many; compare the magnificent Burr Cartwright Brundage, The Fifth Sun: Aztec Gods, Aztec World, 1979).

We all (yes, even Mormons) resist facile comparisons between Egypt and Ancient America, an often exceptionally cloying and boring game. We all may consider how even brilliant students, like Nuttall, Brundage, or Florescano have themselves "gone too far" in making cross-cultural comparisons; yet try as we might to push the poles back to their places, try as we must to understand separate cultures on their own terms, and on their own soil--authochthons all--we may still take up Stuart and Carrasco one day, Klotz and Meeks the next. And should we chose to marvel, what of it?

If Hugh Nibley chooses to compare the Homeric Shield of Achilles to the Round Egyptian hypocephalus--Why not? The abounding parallelism delights the reader. When critics simplistically carp at "parallelomania," not only are they often blind to crystalline influence, they also fail to discern a rich and buoyant poetics, a "loud and bold" new look from "a peak in Darien."

Or shall we, like Calvin at Geneva, careful, prosaic, special, clerical, scientific, and so very deeply and puritanically disturbed, avert our eyes from Keats's teeming Pacific?

Did any idea ever bridge that deep? The Mexica themselves famously do say their own ancestors made that sea-crossing, carrying with them an ancient "book of knowledge" (Sahugun, Codice Matritense de la Real Academia; see esp. Alfredo Lopez Austin, Tamoanchan, Tlalocan: Places of Mist; I'm translating from Miguel Leon-Portilla,  Los antiguos mexicanos a través de sus crónicas y cantares (1961):       .

They arrived, they came. . .

Over the water in their ships they came,

in many groups.

And it was there they arrived, at water's edge,

on the north coast.

And that very place where they beached their ships

is Panutla,

which means: the place where one goes over the waters,

and we still call it Panutla today.

We must point out," says Lopez Austin, "that the data [about Panutla, their migrations to Tamoanchan near the snow-capped volcanoes, the loss of their "original books" and creation of new ones] is so strange and enigmatic that it has led to many interpretations"--but that's the joy of it (Lopez Austin, Tamoanchan, 79; 55; for a map and diagram showing the ships and migrations, fig. 3, 57). "The document is a history of the Mexica, told by themselves" (Lopez Austin, 56), that is to say, the emic view, that which touches as close to the reality of the Mexica origins as we can possibly come.

It is left to us, outsiders, to take up the etic view of things, to make models that approximate, but never reach, the cultural, religious, and historical truth. Such models must be shaped with rigor and with care, in a word: scholarship; yet curious students keep on the lookout for all kinds of surprises. My own work in Egyptian and Hebrew won't permit me, for instance, to look favorably on the conclusions of others who have tried to see in these languages a dual-origin for Uto-Aztecan--a startling enterprise. All I can see, despite the formidable work spread before me, are the telling multiple misses about Egyptian and Hebrew semantics and phonology. And once you start to tally the misses, it's easy to whittle down the cognate count to next to nothing: consider the case of Japanese and Korean. But at least I give things a considered examination.

Of the extant hypocephali, the Calendar Stone, or the Mosaic Shields: What thematic correspondence, what shared semiotic, may we, with eagle eyes, descry on these? Our keen informants again tell us that the latter "commemorates the descent of the stars into the interior of the earth," a cosmic dance of seven all-encircling "warlike star deities" in which Descent and Ascent make up One Eternal Round, a continual renewal of the powers of life. (See Turquoise Mosaics, notes on Image 94 by Adrian Velazquez and Maria Eugenia Marin).

Indeed, some curious students today discern the symbolism of the caterpillar and the butterfly, images associated with the warrior cult, both coursing the rim and unfolding at center of the Aztec Calendar itself:

"The outer image is the body of some kind of animal or insect that has fire symbols in boxes along its body. . . The body of the animal or insect curves down to the bottom, and the heads face each other as gaping serpent jaws. . . The traditional view is that these huge images are 'fire serpents,' as indicated by the huge serpent heads and the images of fire that cover their bodies. . . But a more recent interpretation, offered by Karl Taube, suggests that these images are not serpents at all, but giant caterpillars representing the transformation and rebirth of the warrior as the sun, emerging in the center of the image in the shape of a great butterfly" (Carrasco, Daily Life, 174; Karl Taube, "The Turquoise Hearth: Fire, Self Sacrifice, and the Central Mexican Cult of War," in Mesoamerica's Classical Heritage, 2000; also, Taube, "The Symbolism of Turquoise in Ancient Mesoamerica").

For Professor Taube, the imagery of jaguar, serpent, and butterfly (or caterpillar) all overlap. Vanishes forever, in the light of multiple approaches, the prohibitive Western voicing: "no more and no less." Whether they know it or not, and whether it speaks, at all, to influence, diffusion, or the like--and that's impossible to unscramble--today's Mesoamericanists not only discern in the Mayan glyphs the same system of mixing logographic and syllabic writing that obtains in the hieroglyphs of Egypt, they likewise find in Ancient American composition, both text and iconography--to us, richly chaotic--an "illogical" many-valued logic perfectly at home in Ancient Egypt.

And the noses of these serpent-caterpillars converging at the nadir of the Calendar Stone? These, says Professor Villela, are indeed bespangled with star symbols. According to Taube, their proper "supernatural caterpillar" home is the fifth level of the heavens, whence dart falling stars. One wonders whether falling stars, in appearance of fiery serpents or caterpillars, might have been thought to fertilize the ground? (See Karl Taube, "Symbolism of Turquoise"). The New Fire Ceremony likewise draws the flaming energy from the Pleiades to this lower earth: "Go and Catch a falling star."

Do not all these things also recall the two serpents appearing at either side the ram-faced figure of the hypocephalus, a manifestation of powerful solar energies? (lightening bolts? comets? meteors?) or even the fledgling falcon, with tiny, hopeful, outstretched wings (labeled imty or Infant on certain disks dramatically appearing in the upper left panel as symbol of solar rejuvenation, in the cycle of time, manifest in the heavenly firmament (see Explanation of Facsimile 2, fig. 4)?

These serpents, says Tamas Mekis, in a new dissertation considering all extant hypocephali, both "protect" the central solar god and also "ensure" for him a continuation of "light and energy, at day or at night" ("Hypocephli," Budapest, 2013). All of which recalls what Joseph Smith explained about the figure of four-faced ram, an emblem for the Ancient Egyptians of both unceasing creative and procreative abundance: the central figure receives his power through the medium of other powers. As for the fledgling solar falcon, Mekis tells us, citing the hieroglyphic label, that it embodies in mysterious and transcendent form, as Amun-Re's Ba of Ba's, that is, at once both hidden and radiant, all four of the Ba's, or powers, aspects, and cosmic extension, of the four-faced ram. Now glimpse the Calendar Stone's unfurling butterfly bursting from its chrysalis with four manifest wings--"strange sights"--each bearing the epochal record and pattern of a Sun.

"Tell me where all past years are."

V  Cultural Diffusion or Independent Invention?

Yet how could all these themes and motifs from Ancient Egyptian iconography also appear in 16th century Mexico? Obviously, given the intervening millennia separating the two, core ideas and attitudes from Ancient Egypt were as likely to circle the globe several times over as was the royal Egyptian bloodline. Do not the mathematical models of genealogy show us how every living person today must descend from the royal line that built the pyramids?

"When you walk through an exhibit of Ancient Egyptian art from the time of the pyramids, everything there was very likely created by one of your ancestors--every statue, every hieroglyph, every gold necklace.

"If there is a mummy lying in the center of the room, that person was almost certainly your ancestor, too.

"It means when Muslims, Jews or Christians claim to be children of Abraham, they are all bound to be right" ("Statisticians: Common Ancestor of All Humans Lived 5,000 Years Ago," AP, 5 July 2006).

Nibley and Rhodes, while insisting on the arcane and rarefied nature of the hypocephalus idea, an idea that can be summarized in a few telling points, also take us far afield: the Ascension Literature (the Apocalypses of Abraham, Enoch, and so on, the Shield of Achilles, the Hermetic Tradition, a word or two about the Chinese jade disks--even a page about the Aztec Calendar. Nothing is said about the Book of Mormon or of Jaredites, Mulekites, Southeast Asians, or any others who might have borne the freight of the cosmic circle. However telltale the cross-cultural signs of recognition, however clear the trace of the pollen, Nibley leaves the matter in the air.

Diffusion of knowledge from clime to clime is a delicate thing, as delicate as the lift of a butterfly.

Notes: Essay updated in January 2018.