The Power of “R” Ratings: Video Stores and Ballot Boxes

For Latter-day Saints, the letter R can be one of your best friends.

It simplifies your decisions at the video store as well as the ballot box:

  • A movie with an R printed on it is bad. Even if you don’t know anything else about the movie, don’t watch it. A movie with any other rating — even if you don’t know anything about it — is good, as far as the appropriateness of its content.
  • A political candidate with an R printed by their name is good. Even if you don’t know anything else about the candidate, vote for him/her. A candidate with any other letter — even if you don’t know anything about her or him — is bad.

Piece of cake.

And one of the great things about this simple philosophy is that many of your Latter-day Saint friends will act the same way. You will be in good company. In fact, you can probably just assume, in all of your conversations, that all (good) Mormons act the same way. For example, if you are having a group of people from your ward over to watch a movie, you can assume that the movie will be appropriate as long as it is not rated R. Or when you start talking politics with your home teachers, you can simply assume that R is good and the other letters are bad.

Every now and then you will run into a Latter-day Saint, though, who will challenge your philosophy. Do not be alarmed. Here is what you can do:

Regarding movies, you might have people (like Orson Scott Card) tell you that certain R-rated movies (e.g., The Passion of Christ, Schindler’s List, Atonement, The Last of the Mohicans) might be OK for some adult Latter-day Saints to watch. These people are clearly deceived. Obviously, they are not following the counsel of the prophets, who have commanded us not to watch R-rated movies — ever! Go ahead and tell them that and they will probably leave you alone.

A few, however, might press you further. Someone might ask you what specific counsel you are referring to. This type of person is clearly a contentious person — every Latter-day Saint knows that it is a commandment not to watch R-rated movies. However, let them know that you are not guided by rumor. Tell them that in a May 1986 Ensign article, President Benson said not to watch R-rated movies (p. 43). This will be good enough for most members. However, a few dangerous Latter-day Saints will pressure you further. They might want to quibble about “context” — if they’re really contentious, then they already know about the statement and will make the audacious claim that it needs to be understood in proper context (a common appeal by those who wish to equivocate on the words of the prophets). They will make the ridiculous claim that President Benson’s words are good practical counsel, not a strict commandment, and that the important thing, quoting Benson, is to not “participate in any entertainment that is immoral, suggestive, or pornographic.” Clearly, however, they are simply looking for a way to justify watching R-rated movies. We are unable to decide what is appropriate — that’s why we have living prophets, and they have spoken. The thinking has been done. Also, consider: If you give in and watch an R-rated movie, you’ll never be able to say, like Mormon American Idol contestant Brooke White, that you’ve never watched one.

The person who you really need to look out for is the person who says that the values that undergird movie ratings are not always the same as gospel values. They might even make the ridiculous claim that the Church has moved away from making recommendations on specific ratings for this very reason. They might say that the “spirit of the law” is more important than the letter, which is why this counsel has not been repeated much in the past 20 years. Or they might unnecessarily complicate things by talking about how the Church is an international Church and that different countries have different rating systems. If you encounter into this person, run. Simply run away, just like Joseph ran away from Potiphar’s wife. You can’t reason with the devil.

Because most people don’t talk about politics, you might have an easier time avoiding Latter-day Saints who challenge your R-rated preference, especially if you live in Utah. However, even if you’re a Utahn, you’ll likely run into someone who will disagree with you. In fact, we know that the end must be near, because there was an article this week in the Deseret Morning News (a Church-owned newspaper!) by Doug Robinson that challenges your whole philosophy!

Robinson tries to rationalize not voting for the “R-rated” candidates in Utah by talking about how the Utah legislature does not have to worry about their constituents because they know they will be re-elected. Others will complicate this point further by saying that the Church does not officially endorse a certain political party. These people, once again, are clearly deceived. Everyone knows that the R-rated party is the party that (good) Mormons are a part of. It stands for religious values and the D-rated party stands for atrocious things such as abortion and same-sex marriage. Of course, the Church has to play their little PR game, but we all know that that’s all it is.

Some Latter-day Saints will challenge your view on this. They will say that it is not necessarily true that the Church’s values match the R-rated party. They will say that it is arguable that the Church’s values match other parties just as well or better, but that each individual needs to decide for him/herself. They might even make the incredible claim that Latter-day Saints should vote for the best person, regardless of party. Or — if they’re really dangerous — they might even suggest that the moderate values of many Latter-day Saints in Utah probably better match with the D-rated party! They might unnecessarily complicate things by saying that most D-rated political candidates in Utah are socially conservative and pro-life. These, however, are pernicious and seductive claims that will in time erode Utah’s values. Utah is one of the best states in the nation because we are the closest to believing the same things, in terms of religion and politics. If we suddenly have a bunch of D-rated politicians, it could ruin everything. Suddenly we would actually have political competitions in Utah. We would have to actually learn about the candidates, which would take away from our time in the scriptures. There would also probably be a lot of contention. And we all know who the author of contention is. Run away!

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Why I hate the theory of evolution.

A more appropriate title to this blog post would be “Why I hate that the public schools teach ‘creation’ by evolution and do not teach the Biblical account of creation,” but aside from being too wordy, I thought the inappropriate title might persuade more people to read this entry. After all, the second title might lead one to think that I’m in favor of creationism and who wants to hear another argument for creationism? Well, you’ll be happy to hear that I frankly don’t care for creationism (and for that matter, I don’t care much for intelligent design…or Ben Stein). But in spite of my apathy toward creationism, I am still greatly miffed by this country’s ridiculous replacement of one creation story (evolution) with another (the Biblical account).

The short of the story is this: the creation story told by evolutionary scientists is a myth. It’s just a story made up by some people who claim to have some sort of authority regarding biology, paleontology, a little organic chemistry, and the so-called scientific method (other disciplines may apply). It comes with no guarantee of factual validity and it begs just as many questions as it supposes to answer.

Now, many might claim that the creation story in the Bible fits under a similar description (with a few minor alterations). In fact, that is my point: we have been forced to chose between two creation myths - the Big Bang and the Bible - competing for academic space in the public schools, and in my estimation, the worst of the two myths won out.

Do not try to tell me that evolution won out because it’s based on “facts.” It is likely true that this was one of the questions behind the decision to teach the Big Bang: which one is based in “fact.” But the fact of the matter is no one, no matter how sophisticated, can make a claim as to the factual accuracy of either myth. so whether or not factual accuracy was the question, it shouldn’t have been and it shouldn’t be now. Factual accuracy just cannot be a question in the case of “creation,’ even for evolutionary scientists, else we ask questions that will never be answered.

The question we ought to have asked (at least for the public schools’ sake) - and the question that we ought to ask now - is “which myth better serves the educative purposes of our students?” The answer to that question is without a doubt the Biblical myth.

400 years of culture - particularly the arts and literature - finds its foundation in the myths of the Bible. By excluding the Bible from our scholastic repertoire, we have violently separated ourselves and our children from that which defines us culturally and instead (as a consequence of several court decisions ostensibly fighting for the division of church and state) we have adopted a culture that is untested - the scientific culture. We can argue whether this new culture is better or worse for us (my case lies with the almost-too-true-to-life account of Aldous Huxley), but the point is, we are sacrificing the security of 400 years (and more) for what-we-know-not.

That’s not to say that we couldn’t teach both myths in school. But if we make that decision, we ought to award the Big Bang the status it deserves: mythical. Otherwise, we are doing our children a violent disservice.

I guess if I were to make some sort of conclusion to this post, that conclusion would be a call to arms. The Bible doesn’t have near the defenders it should have, especially in our own faith (I believe that is partly due to our willingness to make our religion fit with anything called science), and if it did, we might see arguments for teaching the Bible in our public more sophisticated than creationism and intelligent design. So if I were to make a conclusion, I would say “Let’s fight for the Bible in public schools!” But I’m not going to make a conclusion. Instead, I’d just like to invite your comments on some of the thoughts I’ve expressed here. Maybe I’ll make the call to arms when I actually have something to say.

[Administrator's note: I'm adding an important corrective (published as a comment) to this post, from the author, below:]

My lack of sophistication in writing this post seemed to do the ideas an immense disservice. So I’ll start by giving a blanket clarifying response:

I’m not talking about teaching Christianity, I’m talking about the Bible as the mythological, symbolic framework it has come to represent in literature and in the arts. In other words, to teach students about Petrarch, Dante, Milton, Caravaggio, Michelangelo, and hundreds of others, a knowledge of the Bible and its stories are necessary.

The primary reason the Bible is not used is because it is a religious text, so it gets the axe out of respect for our Bill of Rights. But the Bible is not just a religious text - it is a work of literature that Shakespeare himself could not have done without. Yet we think we can do without it.

I’m not against teaching evolution in school. I was talking about creation stories - one told by the Bible and one told by evolutionary theorists. Let me echo Tom D: the Big Bang is not evolutionary theory. So that we all understand, I was not criticizing evolution (please re-read the first paragraph of the blog entry). I was just commenting on the fact that the myth of the Big Bang (and I challenge anyone to persuade me it is NOT a myth) is given priority over the Biblical myth. And in my estimation, this is a gross error.

Finally, I am in favor of the separation of church and state. Those who know me know I am well cultured and fair-minded (I hope) and that I have utmost respect for the several religions. In fact, many who know me well know I’d much sooner send my kids to the public schools then to a Mormon-run charter school (I’m Mormon, by the way). I’m not trying to push religion into the public schools - I just want to see our children broadening their horizons beyond just “science” and into the arts and letters. That’s all.

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Manifesto Against Mormon Lingo (Including the “Bloggernacle” Variety)

I have long thought that Mormon culture lingo sounds stupid and is off-putting and degrading.

Which is wonderfully exemplified by the poem “RULDS?” by Joel Hardy (which I found in a comment at this Splendid Sun post in 2006).

I read the BofM,
I study the D&C,
I peruse the KJV,
back it up with JST.
My son’s at BYU,
at the MTC,
They used to call it LTM
when I was young like he.
I collected for SME,
while in the BSA.
My wife who’s in RS,
teaches YM/YW in MIA.
Today in BYC,
We planned for EFY.
I stayed a little later,
and had a HT PPI.
I listened to some MoTab,
I found at the DI.
then I washed my Gs,
after FHE we had pie.
Now if you’ve understood,
this alphabetic mess.
Chances are quite good,
that you are LDS.

I have heard this little poem read in Sacrament Meeting!

More than once!

I really have no idea what the point was. A celebration of our shared peculiarity, I suppose.

But imagine how it would feel to be a visitor to the Church and hear something like this! I would be confused and scared. Confused about what all that jargon means, and scared that this group is for some reason celebrating their jargoniness. I might have asked one of the missionaries about it, and he might have responded with (and I have heard this before, too), “Oh, you’ll learn it all in time!” (as if learning these terms is a rite of passage for entry into the population of mature Latter-day Saints).

The title of the poem is revealing: “RULDS?” I’m reminded of that obnoxious bumper sticker that reads “RULDS2?” What a lovely message we are spreading here with this item that you can purchase at Deseret Book (or at least you could in the past): “I’m most comfortable around people who are LDS like me because they can understand the obscure culture that I have constructed for myself about what it means to be a Latter-day Saint. And if you’re not LDS2, maybe you can join us for FHE — we’re studying the D&C.”

(While I’m on this note, don’t even get me started about all the rip-off LDS clothing items you can buy, most of which have close imitations of famous brand insignias, such as the t-shirt with the hybrid Nike swoosh / angel Moroni sign. “We’re weird but we’re worldly!”)

We need to do much better, as an LDS community, wherever we live, to minimize the ingroup talk and to be less concerned about maintaining an idiosyncratic LDS community. From that same Splendid Sun post that I referenced above, here is a comment (by “sideline”) that exemplifies this problem well:

I was raised protestant and had visited several different Christian churches before joining the ranks of the lds. During my 10+ years as a member I brought several friends and family members as visitors.

I can tell you from my own experience and theirs that the culture, language, and quirks of other Christian sects are more similar to each other and easier to relate to and understand than to the lds culture, language, and quirks.

This is not to say anything is *wrong* with that of the lds. It is only to say that it is a greater alienating factor. This is intensified by the reality that the lds are a tight knit community. This is not lost on a visitor who comes in and it looks like everyone knows everyone else. This is not the case in most other churches, save tiny ones out in the country. There is very much a difference in visiting an lds chapel versus visiting other churches. While is [sic] can be appealing, it is also alienating and something members would do well to be cognizant of.

We would do much better as a people to ditch the acronyms and vain repetitives — in our testimonies, in our prayers, in our meetings, and in our casual conversations. Parents should encourage their children to do this — trust me, they are capable! Mission presidents should encourage this of their missionaries as well. We might consider speaking as if visitors (or new converts) are at our meetings. From my experience, this endeavor is better for everyone, not just those who might be visitors. We should stop pretending that being a Latter-day Saint means learning a specialized and off-putting vocabularly.

Transition to the “Bloggernacle.”

As a relatively new blogger, I have been disappointed with much of what it is on the “Bloggernacle” — a term that somehow has gained the status of a quasi-official name for “the LDS-blogging community.” I dislike and reject this name. For me, it creates the same kind of in-group off-putting effect that is characteristic of LDS lingo. It sends the message that the LDS-blogging community is an off-putting special society for a certain, elitist type of Latter-day Saint.

Oh, wait. That’s what it is.

As I’ve surfaced, as a newcomer, some of the popular (or not so popular) Mormon blogs, I’ve had similar experiences as sideline’s (above). You learn quickly that there are certain quirky terms that you need to know. It took me weeks to find out what TBM means (true blue Mormon). Or “permablogger” (which apparently is unique to LDS blogs — a person who regularly posts on a certain blog). And I *think* I’m a fairly intelligent person…

Of course, my criticism goes far beyond terms. There is simply, for me, an aura of elitism, arrogance, and in-group-iness that reigns on many LDS blogs. They certainly are not at all inviting to Latter-day Saints who are not currently “in the know.” Please recognize, also, that I realize that there is much that is wonderful also! And I recognize that someone could perhaps accuse this blog of similar things.

I hope, however, that Thinking in a Marrow Bone (begrudgingly acronymed TMB) strives to be different. It is our goal (or mine anyway) to provide an atmosphere where any thoughtful Latter-day Saint — with or without blogging experience — can feel welcome and wanted (as well as those who are not LDS). TMB is not intended to be a place to escape the mainstream of the Church, but to engage it. Certainly, TMB is not perfect in this regard; but we are trying.

I invite other LDS blogs (to try) to do the same.

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Rough Stone Rolling vs. No Man Knows My History: The Heavyweight Championship of Joseph Smith Biography

The following is a paper I wrote a few years ago in a history class about Joseph Smith from Grant Underwood at BYU.

Released in 2005, Richard L. Bushman’s Joseph Smith: Rough Stone Rolling has been hailed by many as the definitive biography of the Mormon founder. It is only natural, then, to put the book in the ring with Fawn M. Brodie’s classic, No Man Knows My History—without question the most famous, and controversial, biography of Joseph Smith to date. In this paper I compare the two biographies according to four criteria: (1) key similarities and differences, (2) characterization of Joseph’s personality, (3) coverage of key events, and (4) interpretation of teachings and doctrine.

Key Similarities and Differences

At first glance, it is tempting to categorize Rough Stone and No Man as wholly different species: the former a Mormon-friendly, naïve history; the latter an anti-Mormon exposé. In a significant respect, however, the two biographies belong to the same class: each puts forward a more complicated and nuanced Joseph Smith to a divided audience. Brodie rejects a simplistic view of Joseph as God’s premier prophet, but also counters prevailing characterizations of delusional hick or calculating charlatan. Instead she artfully crafts a Joseph who is both sinner and saint, both imaginative genius and ignorant plowboy. Bushman does this also, believing in the prophet’s divine mission yet dismissing the conservative conception of a polished, one-dimensional demigod. In his preface, Bushman sums up an underlying philosophy that can be extended to both biographies: “Most readers do not believe in, nor are they interested in, perfection . . . . We want to meet a real person” (xix).

This being said, however, the nature and scope of the two biographies differ significantly. First, Bushman thrives upon differing viewpoints and historical complications, making Rough Stone more palatable to the skeptic than No Man is to a believer. Although Bushman’s belief in Mormonism certainly affects his work, he presents a Joseph Smith that can be shared, in large part, by Mormon and non-Mormon alike. This can hardly be said for Brodie, however, who ostracizes the believing Mormon from the beginning—nowhere does Brodie take seriously even the hypothesis that Joseph Smith was who he said he was. The second difference can be summed up in one word: more. In addition to being more recent, Rough Stone Rolling is more comprehensive, more contextually rich, and more thoroughly documented. This makes for a more honest and relevant biography, but it might come at the cost of not relating as much to a lay audience. In this sense, Brodie’s storytelling trumps Bushman’s historical craft; indeed, it is much easier to imagine a popular movie based on No Man than on Rough Stone.

Characterization of Joseph’s Personality

As mentioned earlier, both Brodie and Bushman paint a complex and many-sided Joseph Smith. Brodie’s No Man, commonly called a “psychobiography,” grounds Joseph’s personality in psychoanalytic theory. In her second edition’s supplement, Brodie explains this underlying theory, characterizing Joseph as having a “basic inner conflict . . . between what he really was and what he most desperately wanted to be” (417). Embodying the collision of a puritan superego and the “the pleasures of the average man” (288-89, 294-95, 326), Joseph was constantly “troubled by the necessity of rationalizing his own impulses or of squaring himself with God” (310). Combine his defense mechanisms with his imaginative genius, quest for knowledge (169), and hypnotic charisma (103)—and voila, the elaborate Mormon empire emerges, complete with lustful harems and military pageantry (148, 271, 283). For Joseph to maintain his kingdom required pathological delusions of reality and grandeur (84, 417-20); otherwise a “persisting consciousness of guilt” would have crushed him long before Carthage (84-85).

Bushman also portrays Joseph as a man of inner conflicts—having “anxiety under his confident exterior,” for example (250)—but not under the umbrella of psychoanalytic theory. In fact, Bushman is hesitant to portray a clear-cut view of Joseph’s personality. For Brodie, the difference between the Hurlbut affidavits and descriptions of Joseph’s followers stinks of inner conflict and a reconstructed Mormon history. For Bushman, however, the difference “shows how differently a man’s life could be represented” (233). Bushman also touches on a private side of Joseph Smith that Brodie is somewhat silent on—the “restless, yearning soul,” unknown even to his family (233). According to Bushman, “By his own account, Joseph frequently felt cast down, lacking, or falling short, never enjoying all that he needed, whether wealth or spiritual assurance” (234). This difference undoubtedly comes from Bushman having greater access to Joseph’s private writing, as well as his seeking to portray a many-sided Joseph Smith.

On many counts, Bushman and Brodie give similar reports of Joseph’s personality. Joseph was “a gregarious, cheerful, imaginative youth,” having a sense of humor that repulsed some but “endeared him to many others” (Brodie 18, 104). He “did not like to be crossed” and occasionally exhibited “flashes of anger,” but his followers’ “dismay at his anger was balanced by their love of his good nature” (Bushman 249-50). At times he did not deal “skillfully with opposition” (Brodie 377). He was sometimes arrogant, and yet quite open about his imperfections (Bushman 153, 296).

Coverage of Key Events

A casual perusal of the biographies’ chapters reveals important similarities and differences in the way Bushman and Brodie cover key events in Joseph Smith’s life. In nearly all cases Bushman is more comprehensive, as mentioned earlier, but both give the same amount of proportionate coverage for key events prior to Kirtland: Joseph’s family history and upbringing, his first vision, his preoccupation with magic, the production of the Book of Mormon, and the organization of the Church. Between New York and Nauvoo, however, Bushman covers considerably more turf. Brodie lumps the period between 1831-33 into one chapter; Bushman fleshes out four chapters, equal to four times the amount of proportionate coverage. This is perhaps due to Bushman’s greater interest in the revelations concerning Zion and exaltation, including their sociocultural relationship to frontier America. Moreover, it is between New York and Nauvoo that Bushman goes to great length to describe Joseph’s inner turmoil and struggles. In contrast, Brodie provides only superficial accounts about the prophet, especially during the Missouri persecutions and the Kirtland bank tragedy. At this point her narrative loses much of her punch and turns into a rather dry accounting of facts—preserving her firepower for Nauvoo, I suppose.

For the scope of this paper, I will compare Bushman’s and Brodie’s coverage of only three topics: the First Vision, the production and content of the Book of Mormon, and Joseph’s polygamous relationships. Concerning the First Vision, both Brodie and Bushman illustrate the complexities behind the reconstructed histories of the First Vision, but they interpret them much differently. Brodie sees a gradual elaboration of Joseph’s storytelling—first angels, then the Son, then the Father and the Son (91, 405). Bushman also sees the varying accounts as a change in focus, but does not automatically reify it as a cover-up or reconstruction. Instead, it is a matter of appealing to a more rational-minded audience—a realization that folk magic was not consistent with the future of his prophetic calling (69). This construction is consistent with Bushman’s desiring to appeal to both Mormons and non-Mormons.

Perhaps nowhere are Bushman and Brodie more different than in their accounts of the production of the Book of Mormon. For Brodie, it can be nothing more than an elaborate creation. With this conclusion in mind, she searches for plausible explanations for the book as Joseph’s creation. In this respect she is laughably presumptuous, claiming that “painstaking research can uncover the sources of all its ideas” (67). She applauds its imaginative complexity (69), but derides its plausibility as a genuine history of ancient America (67). Instead it is an eclectic combination of Ethan Smith’s View of the Hebrews (47), autobiographical projection (58), and borrowing from the Bible (62-63). In her discussion of the Book of Mormon, her preoccupation with explaining its origin is glaring.

Bushman takes Brodie to task for her explanation of the Book of Mormon. According to Bushman, a “skeptical analysis” of the authorship of the Book of Mormon is lacking evidence—it is concerned merely with what “Joseph ‘may’ have done or ‘probably’ did.” This hunting for “signs of trickery” is a distraction that “throws us off track . . . of the Joseph Smith who has a place in history” (58). Indeed, it seems that Brodie is more reactionary to Smith’s miraculous story than she is an objective handler of the historical evidence. Unlike Brodie, Bushman does “not claim [his] case is conclusive; [he] accumulates evidence, but admit[s] belief in the Book of Mormon requires faith” (93). Also unlike Brodie, Bushman discusses the complexity behind two competing theories of the book’s production: composition and transcription. Brody’s theory, however, has no competitors. In addition, Bushman has much more to say about the richness of the text of the Book of Mormon, including it being a “profound social protest” against the prevailing culture of Joseph’s day (104).

Another area in which Brodie and Bushman differ is in the discussion of plural marriage. Fifteen percent of No Man focuses on Joseph’s polygamous relationships, compared to just 5 percent in Rough Stone. Indeed, Brodie seems to be fascinated with a wife-hunt, the subject of one-third of the second edition’s preface about research findings from 1945-1971. The questions that absorb her thoughts include: How many wives did Joseph have? How many were polyandrous relationships? Who are his children? How did he keep from having more children? Considering that psychoanalytic theory is grounded largely in the central motivation of sexual libido, Brodie’s fascination is hardly surprising. Bushman is less concerned with the sexual nature of these relationships, contending that the historical evidence for such is slim to none—a possibility that squares with Bushman’s openness to non-sexual motivations for the marriages.

Interpretation of Teachings and Doctrine

Given their differences to this point, it is hardly surprising that Brodie and Bushman differ significantly in their interpretations of Joseph Smith’s teachings and doctrine. For Brodie, nothing shouts louder than Joseph’s equating God’s favor with material prosperity (263-294-95, 402). This was Joseph’s magnum opus, explaining his doctrine of plural marriage, the dissolution of immaterial spirit, and the desire to unite church and state. Clearly, this interpretation is an extension of Brodie’s underlying psychoanalytic theory of Joseph’s inner conflict between God’s favor and worldly indulgence. With this theory as her guide, Brodie dubs the maxim, “Man is that he might have joy,” as “one of his first significant pronouncements in the Book of Mormon” (294), but she says very little about other significant doctrinal teachings from the book. In the end, she sees Joseph’s system of salvation as void of spirituality: “he created a book and a religion, but he could not create a truly spiritual context” (403). There is “no new Sermon on the Mount, no new saga of redemption” (403). Instead, religion is “as raw-boned and pragmatic as Joseph himself, and as dynamic” (295)—an eclectic patchwork of his imaginative genius and other resources (72, 403).

Bushman does not ignore the role of Joseph’s temporal kingdom, but he presents a view of his doctrine that is much more intellectually rich and spiritually sensitive. Instead of a narrow psychoanalytic theory, Bushman relates Joseph’s doctrinal thought to other important tensions, such as between folk magic and the Enlightenment. He also offers much more of a contextual discussion about Joseph’s revelations. Brodie seems not at all concerned with such. Instead of merely seeking to explain the sources of Joseph’s revelations, Bushman emphasizes the originality and brilliance of Joseph’s thought. For Bushman, plurality of gods is about radical freedom (535). For Brodie, it’s merely the result of reading Thomas Dick (171-72). Bushman mentions Dick, but is silent about speculation on Joseph’s doctrines, emphasizing instead how Joseph’s theology is vastly different (457-58).

Conclusion

The key strengths of Rough Stone Rolling are its recency, its contextual richness, and its historical accuracy. It provides a comprehensive view of Joseph Smith that both Mormons and non-Mormons can appreciate, although some skeptics will take issue with certain interpretations. In comparison with No Man Knows My History, however, Bushman demands much more of his reader, rendering Rough Stone as liable to ostracize the lay audience, even many Deseret Book card-carriers. However, this does not mean that it will not be widely incorporated into future works about the prophet. The measure of its impact, to a large degree, will be the extent to which, directly or indirectly, it engages, challenges, and enlightens Latter-day Saint readers.

In my opinion, No Man Knows My History needs to step down from its title. However, it is important to recognize it as a catalyst in improving and influencing historical research about Joseph Smith—even Bushman’s latest biography. And with all of its flaws, No Man still comes home the victor when it comes to a parsimonious, engaging story. Indeed, the biographical world of Joseph Smith is still looking for a believing, yet historically accurate, story of Joseph Smith, unobstructed by technical commentary. Perhaps “no man” can ever know this story—and perhaps it belongs more in the domain of film than literary biography. But until such a story is written, or revealed, much of the magical and mysterious world of Joseph Smith will remain hidden.

Works Cited

Brodie, Fawn M. No Man Knows My History: The Life of Joseph Smith. 2nd ed. New York: Vintage Books, 1971.

Bushman, Richard L. Joseph Smith: Rough Stone Rolling. New York: Albert A. Knopf, 2005.

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Unearthing Parley P. Pratt — And Some (Interesting?) Questions

Let me begin by saying that Parley P. Pratt is my great-great-great grandfather. He is a man that my family and I honor very much, arguably one of the most consequential pioneers of the Restored Gospel. His Autobiography is one of my favorite books, and I feel somewhat of a close kinship with the man.

So, I’ve been casually following the story about the possibility of disinterring Pratt’s remains from Arkansas — and moving them to Utah. Just a run down for those who aren’t familiar: A group of Pratt’s descendants — led by great-great-great grandson Robert J. Grow, who is an attorney and the president of the Jared Pratt Family Association (Jared is Parley’s father) — have obtained permission to move Pratt’s remains from Arkansas (where he was murdered) to Salt Lake City (where Pratt allegedly wished to be buried), to be buried next to four of his wives. (Note: I am officially banning comments to this post regarding polygamy.) The disinterment was expected to be complicated, to ensure the remains were Pratt’s and to be certain that no one else was disinterred with him. This turned out to be true, and the latest development is that they are unable to find his remains (see this Deseret Morning News article for the latest). And, I’m not certain, but it looks like the group is not going to keep trying…?

Anyway, this interesting little story raises at least three (interesting? or perhaps totally trivial?) questions for me:

  1. Disinterment permission would not have been granted to anyone who is not a direct descendant. But Pratt has thousands (hundreds of thousands?) of direct descendants. What happens if descendant opinions differ? Now, I really don’t have any problem about the disinterment — living in Provo, it actually would be kind of nice to visit his grave; I have no plans of making a special trip to Arkansas in order to do so. I do understand that the request was part of an organized group, and apparently reflects Pratt’s own desire — but this issue got me thinking about this question anyway. It would be interesting to hear someone with some legal expertise comment on the issue of descendant rights. I’m suspicious that current laws might not be equipped to handle a controversial issue regarding someone with such an enormous host of descendants.
  2. You can probably guess what some of the commenters on the Deseret Morning News site are saying about the failure to find Pratt’s body. Could it be … he was resurrected? (Get ready to handle legends in Sunday School on this one, for years to come…!) Now, I think this speculation is rather silly, especially considering that not even the coffin was found. But regardless, it raises an interesting question for me that I realized I am not confident about. I have long had the assumption that no one in our generation (really, no one since perhaps certain church members in Jesus’ time) would be resurrected until the Second Coming. I think this assumption makes good sense to me, but can anyone speak more authoritatively on this?
  3. There is a biblical precedence for the disinterment of bones. I’m thinking particularly of Joseph’s bones being buried with his fathers. This makes good sense to me, but perhaps only on a superficial level (it’s a nice thought to be buried with loved ones, and it would be nice to be resurrected among them). Can anyone speak more on this tradition, perhaps from a Hebrew perspective?

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Emergence, Chaos and the Meaning of it All - Finding Significance in the Natural World, Part 1

[This is a re-post from my personal philosophy blog. Check out my blog HERE.]
There are many things which are simply difficult not just to understand but to know at all.

Though I tried my best and still did horribly in my biology class in community college, there was one concept that I gleaned which I’ve found myself thinking about as of late. The concept is “emergence” or “emergent properties.” In general, emergence has to do with a system giving rise to properties which are not directly traceable to the component parts of said system. On the physiological level, emergence refers to secondary traits emerging unpredictably from the combination of various primary traits. In genetics, the primary traits are those which can be deduced from genes, and the secondary, emergent traits are those which come about from the combination of several of the primary traits.

Emergent properties are difficult to predict, as they themselves are not “written into the script,” so to speak, and come about as a result of the things that actually are. For example, one would not gather by inspecting Oxygen and Nitrogen molecules that in large quantities they would transmit the complex waves that make up audible sound.

As emergence usually manifests itself in complex systems, it seems natural that it occurs in social systems as well. Single celled organisms are physiologically and genetically simple on an individual level, yet in large groups, they form organized colonies with specific structures and cause illnesses with specific symptoms. Larger and more complex still, an ant by itself is a relatively simple organism, but in a colony of ants, complex hierarchies, behaviors and architecture emerge.

Given the simplicity of a single celled organism and the comparatively enormous complexity of a colony of the same, we see an enormous gap between the complexity of the component and the complexity of the system. The same is evident in the ant colony. As the components - or members - of a system are more complex, the emergent properties evident in the system - or society - are exponentially more so.

Chaos Theory’s main assertion is that even in a completely, unarguably deterministic system (that is to say that the outcome of the system is completely determined by its initial conditions), random properties and results emerge. For decades, Chaos Theory has turned the scientific world on its head because it flies in the face of the scientific method, the living breath of which is the belief that anything can be verified by the replication of its same initial conditions and application of the same processes. Chaos Theory instead says that in a complex, “chaotic” system, given the same process and initial conditions, different results may - and often do - occur.

This is due to the complexity of the system, and as always, hindsight is 20/20. After the fact, Chaos Theorists can plot out the information, and, given enough information and enough of a bird’s eye view, they are able to see a pattern. This pattern, however, was impossible to predict beforehand. Results within the system can only be predicted

  1. In an infinitesimally small amount of time, or
  2. Given an infinite amount of information.
Sadly, the first is worthless and the second is impossible. The amount of information needed to predict anything over any significant amount of time resembles a limit in calculus. One trying to predict results in a chaotic system can increase their information, but never acquire quite enough to make all of the predictions. The limit can never actually be reached. As infinity is a concept and not an actual amount, working with it remains in the realm of idea and never truly connects with the real world. An infinite amount of information is required, but a finite amount of information is available. As a result, though the patterns in complex systems are decipherable ex post facto, they are unpredictable beforehand, and given the same conditions will provide different ex post facto results. This is why in a chaotic system such as weather, we have one generation of scientists preaching the doom of global cooling and another generation predicting global warming. In complex, chaotic systems, there is always less known than unknown.

An enormous difficulty in dealing with complex systems such as weather, human society, the mind and the universe in general, is that there is always a disconnect between the Micro and the Macro. Reasonably intelligent people can generalize and abstract, in order to understand general concepts. Likewise, the same people are able to understand the particulars of a given experience or piece of information. Where the difficulty always comes in is when one tries to plug one into the other. There always seems to be a lurking variable when trying to connect the two.

Nowhere is this more evident than in physics. Brilliant physicists such as Michael Faraday and Max Planck pioneered the science of Quantum Mechanics, which deals with the most tiny, elemental building blocks of the universe. In like manner, Albert Einstein developed the theory of General Relativity, which deals with the largest and most overarching principles of the universe, showing the relationship of space, time and gravity. Both of these are legitimate sciences, verified by testing and understood to the point of practicability. Scientists, however, have yet to be able to put either one in the context of the other in any intelligible way. Scientists constantly hammer away at the “Theory of Everything,” “Unified Field” theories, and the ideas of “Quantum Gravity,” but have yet to make the connection in any solid way.

This brick wall is apparently struck in every general science or philosophy. Quantum Mechanics clashes with General Relativity. The general laws of pressure, heat and physical change seem to get thrown out the window in the presence of weather systems. Psychology and sociology follow different patterns. Aristotle’s bottom up approach to metaphysics, doesn’t seem to fit with Plato’s top down approach. Given history, this disconnect isn’t likely to be patched up any time soon.

So what, then? What is the point of me bringing this up in the first place? Why, if our understanding of anything seems to reside at the extreme margins, and if the general, all-encompassing understanding of it eludes us, do we seek to understand anything? After all, the limit is only infinitely approachable, never attainable.

There seems to be in all of us an inborn belief that there is a rhyme and reason to it all. That there is a method to the madness. Though we are unable to deduce the connections, we seem to think that there is a connection. That indeed the very thing which which eludes us is worth knowing. That something is “worth knowing” at all is a distinct qualitative statement. A statement of meaning and significance. Aside from our religious upbringing - be it theist, atheist or some other view of the cosmos - we all seem to seek for that meaning.

True, some have sought to say that the universe is what it is on the surface and nothing more. That existence is without meaning. The universe is merely a mass of objects and events, and that’s it. In my mind, this provokes a question. When, in any complex system, are the components ever equal to the end results? Emergent properties and situations arise seemingly at random. Infinitely unpredictable patterns arise, giving form to what was formless. Why, if something as complex as a termite “cathedral” can emerge from such simple components as termites and dirt, can we not expect from so complex a system as the universe, at least something as basic to us as meaning?

I believe that meaning in the universe is an emergent property, and that there is a pattern to things. This is a declaration of naturalism. I contend that though the universe is natural and physical and is governed by laws and functions of the same nature, there is meaning and purpose to be found in it. Meaning is, in this sense, an emergent property of existence. Thus, the question now becomes that of what this declaration entails. What does this mean in our personal and spiritual lives? What does this mean in our conception of God? Can one be a naturalist and still be a theist? What meaning is there to be found in the natural world?


COMING SOON: Finding Significance in the Natural World - Part Two.

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The Wisdom of Barbara Walther: “FLDS, LDS, They’re Basically the Same Anyway, Right?” And — “Working Women Don’t Breastfeed, So Why Should You?”

Texas judge Barbara Walther, who is over the FLDS case in Texas, revealed Monday how she is completely out of touch with the FLDS and LDS cultures.

Here’s an excerpt from an article in the Salt Lake Tribune:

Judge Barbara Walther did rule that the women and children currently staying at the San Angelo Coliseum could meet twice a day to pray without being monitored by state workers.

Instead, she asked Texas Child Protective Services to find a member of the mainstream Mormon Church to oversee the sessions or some other “appropriate religious person” who would not be seen as “making their service less sacred.”

This ruling came after complaints by FLDS women that they could not pray without being monitored by CPS , and that at least one time a CPS worker vacuumed while women were in prayer.

I’m happy Walther realized the need to rule on this issue (unlike the breastfeeding issue, which I will comment on below). However, her suggestion to find a person “of the mainstream Mormon Church” is both laughable and deeply troubling. THIS is the woman who is entrusted to preside over what could be seen as one of the most culturally sensitive and landmark court cases in years? Is Walther really daft enough to think that the FLDS women would be relieved by having “mainstream” Mormons supervise them, rather than the CPS workers?! And what is with the “appropriate religious person” remark? Oh, just throw a “religious person” in there to watch them — those religious nuts are all the same anyway!

Let me be clear that I, a “mainstream” Mormon, do not approve in any way of the polygamist or abusive practices of certain FLDS members. Considering this, I can guarantee that the FLDS mothers and children in question would likely not be any happier having someone like me watch them while they pray.

I am completely blown away by Walther and her ruling and suggestions. She appears to be completely out of touch with the culture she is dealing with. Does she not know that the LDS and FLDS have essentially no affiliation whatsoever?!

Speaking of being out of touch, let’s move on to the whole breastfeeding fiasco. From the Tribune:

The Texas judge overseeing the polygamous FLDS sect’s case refused Monday to make any ruling that would allow breast-feeding mothers to remain with their children in state custody….

The state plans to separate adult mothers from their children later this week, after it finishes collecting DNA samples that will be used to determine parentage.

Attorneys for the women asked the judge to consider letting nursing mothers remain with their children after negotiations with CPS on the issue stalled. They asked the judge to let the mothers stay until DNA results are in, likely to take up to 40 days.

Walther acknowledged the nutritional and bonding benefits of breast-feeding.

“But every day in this country, we have mothers who go back to work after six weeks of maternity leave,” she said….

On Friday, child psychiatrist Bruce Perry backed the state’s concerns about the group’s practices but said the youngest children are in the least danger of being harmed by any “unhealthy” beliefs held by their parents. He also said that “the younger you are, the more destructive it is to be removed from your home environment.”

The judge’s decision drew a rapid response from breast-feeding proponents, who began rallying around the FLDS mothers. Nicole D. Hoff, a certified lactation counselor in Texas, set up an instant Web site - http://fldsbreastmilk.blogspot.com.

“While we may not agree or understand the circumstances, I think we need to fight for the right of the children to have the best care and nutrition, which includes breastmilk,” she said in a message on the site.

Now, I don’t wish to comment on the nutritional value of breastmilk, though I will say that I generally and tentatively agree with the basic claims of the breast-feeding proponents. I wish, rather, to touch upon the rich irony between Walther’s working-woman views of motherhood and those of the FLDS women. Indeed, we might ask, which group is most concerned about the health of their children? I’m not providing an answer here, but I think the question is a provocative one.

At any rate, there are many people, myself included, who are deeply troubled at these children under 2 years of age (and there are 77 of them) being separated from their mothers.

Some would even call it abuse.

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The Restoration of the Laborer, the Role of Government, and Michelle Obama

As I’ve been reading the first third of the Book of Mormon, I’ve been thinking about the “laborer in Zion.”

Here are a few scriptural passages that are on my mind:

And the Gentiles are lifted up in the pride of their eyes … and preach up unto themselves their own wisdom and their own learning, that they may get gain and grind upon the face of the poor…. If they should have charity, they would not suffer the laborer in Zion to perish. But the laborer in Zion shall labor for Zion; for if they labor for money they shall perish (2 Nephi 26:20, 30-31).

And what thank they [the Gentiles] for the Bible which they receive from them? … Do they remember the the travails, and the labors, and the pains of the Jews, and their diligence unto me, in bringing forth salvation unto the Gentiles? (2 Nephi 29:4)

The Lord of the vineyard sent his servant; and the servant went and did as the Lord had commanded him, and brought other servants; and they were few. And the Lord of the vineyard said unto them: Go to, and labor in the vineyard, with might. For behold this is the last time that I shall nourish my vineyard; for the end is nigh at hand, and the season speedily cometh; and if ye labor with your might with me ye shall have joy in the fruit which I shall lay up unto myself against the time which will soon come. And it came to pass that the servants did go and labor with their mights; and the Lord of the vineyard labored also with them. (Jacob 5:70-72)

“There was a strict command throughout all the churches that there should be no persecutions among them, that there should be equality among all men; … that every man should esteem his neighbor as himself, laboring with their own hands for their support.” (Mosiah 27:3-4)

If I interpret the scriptures correctly, they call for (at least ideally) an equality of consecrated laborers, an equality which unfortunately is currently exemplified only in the temple (as far as I know). This would mean, I take it, that the bricklayer is as esteemed as the scientist, the full-time mother as valued as the engineer.

In Zion, laborers would not be alienated from their work, nor from each other. Rather, all labor would be consecrated for Zion, and all laborers would be intricately connected with each other’s work. The businessman would converse with the stonemason on an economic strategy, while rolling up his sleeves to assist with the cuts of today’s stones. No hand would be uncalloused and no mind would be unrefined.

There would be no more blue collars and white collars. Only “willing men [and women] who wear the worker’s seal” (hymn 252). No more bosses. Simply servants. No occupation would be denigrated or ignoble. Rather, all laborers would be worthy of their hire.

Of course, such a condition will only come about — in time — through the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. Certainly government programs will not be sufficient. The love of God must “dwell in the hearts of the people” (4 Nephi 1:15).

However, this does not mean that we should not strive, as dual citizens of the kingdom of God and the nations of this world, to labor — right here and now — with all our heart, might, mind, and strength to strive closer to equalized labor in our nations and communities. In doing so, let us not forget this declaration of Latter-day Saint belief:

We believe that governments were instituted of God for the benefit of man; and that he holds men accountable for their acts in relation to them, both in making laws and administering them, for the good and safety of society. (D&C 134:1)

In considering the causes we stand for and the government officials we elect, I hope we consider the future dignity of the laborer as one of our most important “issues” (just my opinion). We are living in a world in which the wealth of the world is held in a few hands, and which it is harder and harder for many to make ends meet. Fathers and mothers are working harder than ever to put food on the table, pay the rent, and have adequate health care benefits.

Some will justify this inequality by assuming that such wealth will “trickle down” to the masses. But it doesn’t take an economist to see this philosophy as a king-pauper state in new clothes. Such a position is all the more striking when we consider the way that many U.S. corporations grind upon the face of the poor in third-world countries (but that is another story — I’ll stick to the U.S. in this post). (Note: I do not intend to knock on free trade, merely today’s amoral, unrestrained, and empirialist free trade.)

I realize that we vote for presidents, not their spouses, but I just have to share that I was very impressed with a recent speech by Michelle Obama, which reminded me of some of the themes I have discussed above. (Yes, in the interest of honest disclosure, I am rooting for Obama right now.)

Here is an excerpt of Michelle’s speech, given at a campaign stop (not sure where) on April 15 — video is available here from CNN.

We are struggling like we’ve never struggled before in my lifetime… When I look at the life that I had growing up — things have gotten harder… I think about life from the lens of how I grew up. There’s a lot of people talking about elitism and all of that. But let me tell you who me and Barack are so that you are not confused…. I am the product of a working-class upbringing. I grew up on the south side of Chicago in a working class community. My father was a city worker, a stationary fireman — operated a pump for the water filtration plant — his entire life. That’s what he did. My mother stayed at home — because, see, way back then you could. You could raise a family of four on a single city-worker’s salary, way back then. I don’t know if you can do that now….

But, see, what my father knew is that the fact that he got up everyday and sacrificed allowed me and my brother to reach for dreams that he had to put aside for himself. Imagine a man like my father, a woman like my mother — neither of them went to college — being able to send not one, but two of us, to Princeton. But the beauty of my upbringing and why I share it everywhere I go — because first of all I’m proud of it — but second of all, one thing that is clear to me as I travel around the country is that most Americans are just like my parents: they don’t want much. People aren’t asking for much. They just want to know if they get up and go to work every day, like they are willing to do, that they’ll earn enough to take care of their families. You know, my father didn’t mind having a high bar. He just wanted the bar to be still. He just wanted it to be fair. He wanted to know that if he got sick he wouldn’t go bankrupt. He wanted to know that he could send his kids to some decent schools in the neighborhood and they’d get an education, maybe aspire to go to college, but at least get a good job and be able to take care of themselves….

That’s all my father wanted. That’s all that most Americans want. But we’re not there. And if I’m telling you something you don’t know, let me know. Maybe things are better, and I’m just missing the boat. Maybe I’m out of touch. But here’s what I see … I am seeing life getting harder and harder for regular folks. Those jobs that my father had — those solid blue-collar jobs are dwindling all over this country. Jobs moving overseas, plants closing … and if you’re lucky enough to have a job, nine times out of ten your salary’s not keeping up with the cost of living, so everybody’s gotta work.

Now, I know, of course, that the vision of Michelle Obama here is not (necessarily) Zion. However, she describes the plight of the laborer in America rather well. Moreover, her description of her father and mother is very similar to my own — a blue-collar worker and (nearly) full-time mother, without college educations, who struggled to make ends meet in order to make things better for their six children, all of which have graduated from universities (or will in the next year), and several of which have received, or will receive, advanced degrees. And I know I am not alone. But I pray that I never forget the labored sacrifice of my parents and ancestors — that I never forget the backs that my blessings have been carried on (speaking of this, please check out Candice’s post on Mayan weaving and remembering suffering through narratives). And that I strive to labor — with my hands and my heart — for the next generation. But I worry for today’s laborers and parents. I worry that their respect has dwindled (along with their benefits), and that their work is alienated from the community. I worry that they can no longer have a stay-at-home parent. I worry that their jobs are not at all secure. And, most of all, I worry that those who are comfortable don’t care. Talk about alienation.

But I am optimistic. And my optimism is rooted in the bright morning of the restored gospel, which offers the restoration of the dignity of the laborer. The restoration of a community of laborers, all of which are equal in the sight of the Lord — and, hopefully, in the sight of man as well.

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Abraham 2:16: “Eternity was our covering and our rock and our salvation”

In the spirit of my wanting more posts that comment on specific scriptural passages, I am providing this commentary on Abraham 2:16. I wrote the following as a brief paper for a Pearl of Great Price course that I took as an undergraduate at BYU:

After He rescued Abraham from the murderous priest of Elkenah, Jehovah led Abraham and his family to the land of Haran (Abr. 2:3-4). While there, they avoided the sore famine of their native Ur, prospered economically, and “won” many souls unto the Lord (vv. 5, 15). Haran was not Abraham’s final destination, however; while there, Jehovah promised to send him to “a strange land,” the land of Canaan, where he and his future posterity, if obedient to God, would dwell forever (v. 6). Abraham’s journey from Haran to Canaan must have had special significance, considering the way Abraham writes about it: “Therefore, eternity was our covering and our rock and our salvation, as we journeyed from Haran by the way of Jershon, to come to the land of Canaan” (v. 16).

Why did Abraham speak of his journey in this way?

The answer is not overtly clear from the text, but perhaps a hint can be gleaned from the curious textual placement of verse 16—Abraham begins the verse with the transition “therefore,” but what this connection refers to is not clear. A plausible connection can be made, though, with an earlier phrase, “we . . . dwelt in tents as we came on our way” (v. 15). Perhaps Abraham is juxtaposing his company’s temporary dwellings—thinly layered and ill-secured—with the eternal protection and covering he speaks of in verse 16. This juxtaposition draws attention to the concept of a temporary, dangerous journey apart from the ordinary securities of life, in which the traveler must rely upon the Savior—eternity—for protection and sustenance. What is more, Abraham’s journey is analogous to the entire mortal journey between pre-mortal paradise and exaltation—though man is separate from God and fraught with peril and uncertainty, his salvation is the eternal covering and protection of the Lord Jesus Christ.

This analogy is especially profound when considering Abraham’s poetic use of the words eternity, covering, and rock. The first term, eternity, appears to have a double meaning, referring both to a never-ending star-filled canopy and to an endless and eternal Savior. It is likely that Abraham’s company, to avoid the blistering sun, made their desert treks in the moon- and starlit night. During one of these nights, the Lord appeared to Abraham and “put his hand upon [his] eyes,” allowing him to see the worlds “which his hands had made”—so many that Abraham “could not see the end thereof” (Abr. 3:12). This never-ending sky, illuminated more grandly than through any modern instrumentation, could aptly be referred to by Abraham as “eternity.” One can imagine Abraham, after receiving this manifestation, trekking across the desert with his eyes fixed toward the stars, marveling as he gazes into eternity.

In addition to referring to the star-filled sky, “eternity” refers to the Savior. In fact, the vision of the stars was a preparatory vision, given in part to help Abraham understand the eternal nature of each “intelligence,” Christ being the greatest. These intelligences, or spirits, are like the stars in that some are greater—“more intelligent”—than others (v. 18), one being “more intelligent than they all” (v. 19). This one is Jesus Christ, who, in the vision of the stars, was typified by the star Kolob—“the great one” (v. 3), “nearest unto the throne of God” (v. 2), “set to govern all those planets which belong to the same order as [Earth]” (v. 9). Analogously, the Savior stands in the midst of the intelligences as one who is “like unto God” (v. 24), whose “wisdom excelleth them all, for [He] rules in the heavens above, and in the earth beneath, in all wisdom and prudence” (v. 21). Therefore, in spite of the transience and uncertainty epitomized by Abraham’s desert trek, he and his company could gaze at the stars and rest assured that eternity was their covering, rock, and salvation.

With the phrase “eternity was our covering,” Abraham contrasts the thin and temporal coverings of man (e.g., tents) with the vast and eternal draping of God. To reach the Promised Land, Abraham and his company had to leave the comfort of secure and fixed dwellings, to journey across the desert with portable tents. This rendered them more vulnerable to heat exhaustion, desert storms, and vicious raiding, all of which threatened for their journey to be in vain. Likewise, the journey towards exaltation requires God’s children to temporarily leave their heavenly home to traverse a mortal clime that renders them vulnerable to sin, threatening their goal of exaltation.

However, just as the canopy of the eternal sky covers the imperfect tents of Abraham’s party, so does the atoning blood of Jesus Christ eternally cover the sins of God’s imperfect children! (Ps. 85:2). Because of the Atonement, when a person is baptized and receives the Holy Ghost, the “old man” of sin is covered by burial (Rom. 6:3-6)— it is “hid with Christ in God” (Col. 3:3) and remembered no more (D&C 58:42). Thus, although man treks the mortal journey imperfectly, he can rest assured that he, through the Savior’s blood, is perfect in Christ (Mor. 10:32-33). Thus, in the midst of his imperfection, it is requisite for man to “walk in newness of life” (Rom. 6:4)—to be covered, or clothed, even as Christ is. He is to “put on the new man,” to put on “bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, longsuffering” (Col. 3:12). Above all things, he is to put on charity, “which is the bond of perfectness” (v. 14), for “charity shall cover the multitude of sins” (1 Pet. 4:8). This covering is possible because of the Atonement of Christ, in spite of the naked man beneath the clothing.

Abraham’s theme of eternal shelter in the midst of temporal trials is also portrayed by the phrase, “eternity was our . . . rock.” This term contrasts Earth’s temporal uncertainties with the fixed order of the endless, night sky. Abraham’s journey was undoubtedly fraught with uncertainty—not knowing what is ahead, where he will sleep the next night, or how he will obtain food and water. Similarly, mortal man progresses without a perfect knowledge of what lies ahead, “whether the wrath of the storm-tossed sea, or demons or men or whatever it be” (hymn 105).

In the midst of mortal uncertainties, however, man can safely place his confidence upon the Savior—“the Rock of Heaven, which is broad as eternity” (Moses 7:53). The scriptures abound with references of the Savior as the Rock, in juxtaposition with the tempests and uncertainties of mortal life. He is the “chief corner stone” of a sure foundation (Eph. 2:20), lest man be “tossed to and fro . . . with every wind of doctrine” (4:14). In the midst of confronting “snares of death” and “the floods of ungodly men,” (Ps. 18:4-5), Jesus Christ is man’s rock, fortress, and deliverer (v. 2)—his “strong habitation, whereunto [he] may continually resort” (71:3). And though “fair virgins and young men faint for thirst” (Amos 8:13), they may drink of the “spiritual Rock” of Christ (1 Cor. 10:4).

As I trek the mortal clime, I rejoice with Abraham that Jesus Christ—broad as eternity—is “our covering and our rock and our salvation.” Though “my heart groaneth because of my sins . . . I know in whom I have trusted” (2 Ne. 4:19) to cover them with his atoning blood—thus, in the midst of my imperfections, “my soul will rejoice in . . . the rock of my salvation” (v. 30). And in the midst of several in-between aspects of my life—familial, residential, financial, intellectual, and spiritual—“I know not where His islands lift / Their fronded palms in air; / I only know I cannot drift / Beyond His love and care” (Whittier, “The Eternal Goodness”).

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W(h)ither Metaphysical Speculation

Our grand business undoubtedly is, not to see what lies dimly at a distance, but to do what lies clearly at hand.” -Thomas Carlyle “Signs of the Times”

There has been an interesting conversation going on at New Cool Thang concerning the nature of God’s brain. Among the issues being discussed is whether God’s brain stores memory — or whether any brain stores memory at all. The idea that information is “stored” in the brain is very prevalent in Western culture and likely owes its origins to the advent of computer technology and theories of memory storage coming out of cognitive psychology.

The basic idea in memory storage theories is that information comes into the brain through the five senses and is either immediately discarded, stored in short-term memory, or stored in long-term memory. Information in short and long term memory is then available for retrieval, short term being accessible for moments, long term for years.

Two of the most essential terms, information, and retrieval, aren’t usually well defined. This is a problem! I will discuss retrieval as I find it especially problematic, leaving the discussion of information for another time.

On retrieval: What mechanism accounts for the retrieval of memories? Where am I (my conscious self) during the retrieval process? If all my memories are stored somewhere in my brain, how would I remember “where” I filed a particular memory so that I might retrieve it later? Indeed, how would I remember whether I had even stored any memories at all without having some sort of constant “at hand” memory? Of course there are ways of explaining the phenomenon of retrieval (by hypothesizing more mental constructs), but I simply find no reason to do so. Why assume that my ability to recall past experience requires any further hypothetical constructs? Remembering, as even B.F. Skinner would say, is the behavior of an entire organism–not of a disconnected mind or brain. Perhaps we remember what we do because of who we are in the present moment. Perhaps in some ways what we remember is inseparable from who we are. I don’t share these last remarks as a necessary alternative to information storage theories of memory, but as a viable, possible alternative to them. (In other words, I’m striving to maintain an open folk belief system)

The metaphysical speculation on the application of information theory to God’s brain reminds me of “Signs of the Times” written by Thomas Carlyle in 1829. “Signs of the Times” was written, in part, to criticize rampant metaphysical theorizing by members of the scientific community in those times. Criticizing Pierre Cabanis (”as the liver secretes bile, so does the brain secrete thought”) he says,

The metaphysical philosophy of this last inquirer is certainly no shadowy or unsubstantial one. He fairly lays open our moral structure with his dissecting-knives and real metal probes; and exhibits it to the inspection of mankind, by Leuwenhoek microscopes, and inflation with the anatomical blowpipe. Thought, he is inclined to hold, is still secreted by the brain; but then Poetry and Religion (and it is really worth knowing) are “a product of the smaller intestines!” We have the greatest admiration for this learned doctor: with what scientific stoicism he walks through the land of wonders, unwondering; like a wise man through some huge, gaudy, imposing Vauxhall, whose fire-works, cascades and symphonies, the vulgar may enjoy and believe in.

This issue remains more or less intact today. Cognitive psychologists theorize about “constructs” or “structures of the mind” which set forth the limits of memory, emotion, and attitude formation, the nature of consciousness or the self, free will, and even