LDS Sunday School students will soon take a quick leap through 66 chapters of Isaiah in five forty-minute lessons. All too often, some uniquely Mormon interpretations are given to these chapters which merit a critical analysis. In this post I present six Mormonisms often used with the first few chapters of Isaiah which I believe hinder a deeper and more accurate understanding of these prophetic writings.  Let us know if any of these interpretations show up in your Sunday School class!

1. Isaiah 2:2,3 Popular LDS commentary on this verse identifies it as Isaiah’s vision of people from many lands coming to Salt Lake City, Utah.

Many prophecies of Isaiah are dual and can be applied to more than one time, situation or people. I am aware that latter-day prophets and apostles have related this verse to the Salt Lake temple or even to the Conference Center from which the word of the Lord is issuing forth in these days. However, if we insist too strongly on this Mormon-centric view, we can miss the primary application which this verse has to the millennial reign of the Messiah. The word “mountain” as used in the Bible is a metaphor for “nation,” “government,” or “political system.” In verses 2 and 3 Isaiah is speaking of the millennial condition when Christ shall establish the political Kingdom of God upon the earth. This will be established “in the top of the mountains,” or in other words “as the head of the nations.”

2. Isaiah 2:3 Isaiah wrote that the word of the Lord will come from Jerusalem, and the law will come from Zion, the New Jerusalem, located in Jackson County, Missouri. There will be two distinct centers of influence for God’s people.

This may be, but verse 3 should not be used as a proof-text. Here we have a synonymous chiastic parallel where

the Law = the Word of the Lord, and
Zion = Jerusalem (one and the same)

The chiastic structure of this phrase indicates that Isaiah equated Zion with Jerusalem (the one located in Israel!) If we accept this, we will be able to learn more about Zion as it relates to the ancient City of David.

3. Isaiah 2:9 In the Book of Mormon, verse 9 is clarified by adding the word “not” to the following statement: “And the mean man boweth [not] down and the great man humbleth himself [not], therefore forgive him not.”

This verse actually makes much more sense in its original context, without the extra “not” added in the Book of Mormon version. Verse 8 speaks of idols which are found throughout the land. And the mean (common) man and the great (important) man boweth down (to these idols). This version makes more sense coming as it does right after the description of people worshipping idols, the work of their own hands.

4. Isaiah 2:13-17 , see also 2 Ne 12:13-17 Some Mormons still insist that this passage is an example of the restoration in the Book of Mormon of passages that were lost in the Old Testament. As noted in footnote 16a, “The Greek (Septuagint) has ‘ships of the sea.’ The Hebrew has ‘ships of Tarshish.’ The Book of Mormon has both, showing that the brass plates had lost neither phrase.”

Pike and Seely have shown the challenges of accepting this interpretation. I love the poetry of the passage and find that the addition of the extra phrase and other interjected words spoils the beauty of the chiastic tripled bicola. Isaiah used poetic conventions frequently to emphasize his points. The Book of Mormon addition does not enhance the poetic structure of the passage, but instead inhibits it. The Greek “ships of the sea” and the Hebrew “ships of Tarshish” are probably different translations of one original phrase and it is not necessary or preferable to include both. Observe the perfection of the Masoretic text with the pattern of w- (conjunction) + al (preposition “upon”) followed by kol- (“all/every”) and then two words (here in English translation):

For the day of the LORD of hosts shall be

upon every one that is proud and lofty,
and upon every one that is lifted up; and he shall be brought low:

and upon all the cedars of Lebanon, that are high and lifted up,
and upon all the oaks of Bashan,

and upon all the high mountains,
and upon all the hills that are lifted up,

and upon every high tower,
and upon every fenced wall,

and upon all the ships of Tarshish,
and upon all pleasant pictures (fine craft)

and the loftiness of man shall be bowed down,
and the haughtiness of men shall be made low;

and the LORD alone shall be exalted in that day.

(if all this fascinates you, there is a well-reasoned apologetic view here. But I stand by my opinion.)

5. Isaiah 3:16-26 The Daughters of Zion and their apparel show the dangers of worldliness and immodesty.

If your Sunday School teacher identifies this passage (as does the lesson manual) with modesty in dress, s/he has missed the boat! The daughter of Zion, is a poetic term for the covenant people of Israel, and the items of clothing stand for different types of authority. In the Old Testament, authority was passed down with the symbolic action of transferring clothing. Thus the significance of the passing of Elijah’s mantle to Elisha, and Jonathan’s dressing David with his own clothes in 1 Samuel 18. As the son of the reigning king, Jonathan symbolically transferred his claim to the throne to his friend by stripping himself of his clothing and weapons and bestowing them upon David. In Isaiah, the covenant people are struck down because of their pride. Each of the articles of clothing worn by the daughter of Zion represent some authority or privilege which is being misused and thus removed by the Lord.

6. Isaiah 4:1 The Mormon speculation on this verse goes as follows: With so many men killed in war, righteous single priesthood holders are in short supply. Thus, plural marriage is reinstituted, with many women stating they will support themselves in order to receive priesthood covenant protection.

My examination of the Hebrew of this verse makes me confident in translating “one man” as “a certain man.” The verse thus teaches that in the latter day seven women (symbolic number of completeness, denotes the covenant people) shall take hold of a certain man (guess who that would be?) and ask him “let us be called by thy name,” which will take away their reproach (effects of atonement). In my view this verse is Messianic and has nothing whatsoever to do with polygamy.

As Latter-day Saints, we certainly have many resources in our scriptural records and our doctrine to interpret the Book of Isaiah.  But I think we need not go overboard in trying to overpersonalize these passages.  As important as it is to apply Isaiah’s writings to ourselves, we must not lose the historical connotations and meanings within the text.  Since we have only 5 weeks to cover this important book of scripture, let us carefully choose the scripture blocks we will discuss, and maintain a focused and accurate exegesis of the material.

If your ward happens to be just a little bit behind on the Sunday School lessons, you might experience the synchronicity of having the Book of Jonah read on Yom Kippur.  This year, the Jewish holiday falls on September 18 (close enough to Sunday the 19th!) and Jonah is traditionally read as part of the celebration.

Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement) is the holiest and most widely observed day on the Jewish calendar.  It is a day of fasting, lengthy confession of sins, prayer, and repentance.  Jonah’s prophecy is included in the liturgy for that day as a symbolic spiritual journey that each person undertakes.  I think the symbolism in Jonah’s story is very meaningful and I’d like to explore it in depth here.

The message of Jonah’s prophecy resonates within the human soul. We are born with a subconscious realization of the fact that we have a mission. We seek escape, because our mission is often one that we are afraid to attempt. Jonah’s story begins when he is given a mission from the Lord and he flees to Joppa and there boards a ship to Tarshish.  These places actually exist, but the meaning of the names of these cities are “beauty” and “wealth.”  We comfort ourselves externally by escaping from our inner knowledge of our mission through the pursuit of wealth, and by surrounding ourselves with worldly beauty.

The water journey is powerfully symbolic in literature.  Beginning with ancient sources in a number of cultures and languages, a hero’s voyage across the waters evokes adventure, danger, growth, and self-discovery.  Included in this canon is the ancient Mesopotamian story of Gilgamesh: one man’s search for immortality.  Although widely known for its parallel to the Biblical story of the Flood, this is a work which stands on its own.  It illuminates human relationships, experiences and feelings: loneliness, love, loss, revenge, regret, endurance, joy and sorrow, and the fear of oblivion that comes with death.  The Celtic narrative of Brendan the Navigator is a water quest designed to bring him into engagement with God.  His journey is cyclic; it takes he and his fellow travelers seven years to arrive at a place that was never so far from their starting point.  The Rime of the Ancient Mariner is a more modern water journey — an exploration of the significance of nature in a world characterized by religious uncertainty.  In all of these pieces, the human on a quest for immortality learns something important about death and life, the Divine, and his own inner soul.

In these water journeys, the ship is meaningful and symbolic of the human body. We face moments in life in which the fragility of our bodies is inescapable, as in when we face illness, or confront times of danger that seem to last an eternity until they are resolved. Jonah’s weakness is apparent in the story, but he also shows moments of triumph, as when he asks the sailors to cast him into the sea so that they may continue their voyage unencumbered; or when he prays in the belly of the great fish. As with Jonah, our recognition of our own vulnerability can bring us to finally transcend our ego, surrendering our desire to control events, and beginning at last to accept our mission in life, no matter what it is.  We can suffer the vicissitudes of life, and recognize that we ourselves have caused the storms to toss us back and forth. We can move forward to fulfill our purpose, but we are still not free of conflict and anxiety until we finally recognize that every step along the way, we are embraced by Divine compassion.

The great fish is the symbol of confrontation of the recognition that our ultimate fate is the grave. Each must have his or her days of darkness in the belly of the fish, facing the reality of death. For some, that recognition almost feels like a welcome refuge. For others, facing death forces them at last into pursuing life!

Finally, notice that with his desire to escape his mission, Jonah did not fear failure.  His fear was that his preaching would have an effect on the pagan people he was sent to, and they would also become God’s chosen people.  No, he wasn’t afraid of failure, but success!  This reminds me of an excerpt from Return to Love by Marianne Williamson (often erroneously attributed to Nelson Mandela):

Our Greatest Fear —Marianne Williamson

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world.

There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.

It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people
permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.

Jonah is hardly the only prophet who was reluctant to respond to God’s call. Even Moses, the greatest of all prophets, tried to persuade God to send somebody else. Jonah was not the only prophet to show human weakness.  But in the end, Jonah’s tale even becomes a symbolic representation of the Savior, when the Lord identifies the three days and nights in the fish’s belly as analogous with what he himself will have to face (Matt 12:39-41).  Through his spiritual journey, Jonah learned to “think different“: to embrace his mission, to accept and work with his unique talents and failings, to develop compassion for his fellow man.

It is then that we are ready to return to God. While for each of us the path is our own, and never yet explored by any other person, Jonah knew the beginning and the end of the journey that we all make.

After the Satan figure is given permission to afflict Job as a test of his faithfulness, three of Job’s friends, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar, come to visit him, sitting with him in silence for seven days. On the seventh day, Job speaks, beginning a conversation in which each of the four men shares thoughts on Job’s afflictions and adversity in general in profound poetic statements.  This is a lengthy dialogue between characters who alter their moods, question their motives, change their minds, and undercut each other with sarcasm and innuendo. Although Job comes closest to doing so, no single character articulates one true or authoritative opinion. Each speaker has his own flaws as well as his own lofty moments of observation or astute theological insight.  I believe the Book of Job is a jumping-off point for the reader to deeply explore questions of theodicy and the difficulty of understanding why an all-powerful God allows good people to suffer.

Eliphaz believes that Job’s agony must be due to some sin Job has committed, and he urges Job to seek God’s favor. Bildad and Zophar agree that Job must have committed evil to offend God’s justice and argue that he should strive to exhibit more blameless behavior. Bildad surmises that Job’s children brought their deaths upon themselves. Even worse, Zophar implies that whatever wrong Job has done probably deserves greater punishment than what he has received.  A character who is introduced later in the book, Elihu, also assumes that Job must be wicked to be suffering as he is, and he thinks that Job’s excessive talking is an act of rebellion against God. The interaction between Job and his friends shows the folly of trying to understand God’s ways.  The reader is privy to the information that Job has been righteous and the adversity comes from a bargain that has been made between God and Satan.  The fault of Job and his friends lies in trying to explain the nature of God with only the limited information available to human knowledge, as God himself notes when he roars from the whirlwind, “Who is this that darkness counsel / by words without / knowledge?” (38:2).

In spite of the criticism of his friends, Job believes that there is a “witness” or a “Redeemer” in heaven who will vouch for his innocence (16:19, 19:25). After a while, the upbraiding proves too much for Job, and he grows sarcastic, impatient, and afraid. He laments the injustice that God lets wicked people prosper while he and countless other innocent people suffer.  He feels that wisdom is hidden from human minds, but he resolves to persist in pursuing wisdom by fearing God and avoiding evil.

• Why DOES a loving and an all-powerful God allow human suffering?

Here is an explanation I heard in Houston, Texas, and I think it has a lot of merit. It’s distinctly LDS, it’s very simple, and it combines several of the common theodicies.

The Good Adversity

The first type of adversity one might experience can be said to be “good.” It is the kind of adversity that exists to strengthen the human soul. It may be a result of living in a fallen world. Just as a corollary to living we knock up against all kinds of adversity, such as natural disasters. I would add that not all people will choose to use this type of suffering as a chance to grow, but that is its purpose, and theoretically it is possible to overcome, and to learn from it.

The Bad Adversity

Another type of adversity that exists in the world comes as a result of bad choices that we make. This goes along with the scripture “Wickedness never was happinesss.” In general, right living leads to peace, prosperity, and happiness, while wickedness, evil, and sin will tend to cause misery and pain. Note that this principle is not the only factor leading to suffering. That is why it may appear that a righteous person is experiencing much more adversity than his/her wicked neighbor.

The Ugly Adversity

Ugly adversity occurs when another person’s free agency conflicts with someone else’s life. God allows us to make our own life choices and rarely interferes. Thus innocent humans may suffer as a result of someone’s poor choices. Latter-day Saints believe passionately that free agency is a vital ingredient for attaining sanctification. Thus ugly adversity must exist, causing unneeded suffering. Why did God organize the world this way? Because without choosing freely we could never develop the qualities necessary for godhood.

Now it’s your turn! How do you explain the problem of evil and adversity in the world?  Could an omnipotent God have created free beings that were already morally perfect, thus eliminating the need for adversity?  Does the Book of Job illuminate or obscure our understanding of this principle?  How do you understand and come to terms with adversity in your life?

Feminist readers of the scriptures are well aware of the passages in Proverbs 8 which personify Wisdom (GK Sophia, HEB Hokhmah).
These passages affirm that Sophia was there when God made the earth and acted as a partner with God in the creation. This idea fits in well with my conceptualization of the male/female duality of the Divine. The passages can be interpreted as instructions to the earnest seeker to discover and follow the promptings of a Heavenly Mother:

The LORD possessed me in the beginning of his way, before his works of old.
I was set up from everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the earth was.
When there were no depths, I was brought forth;
When there were no fountains abounding with water.
Before the mountains were settled, before the hills was I brought forth:
While as yet he had not made the earth, nor the fields, nor the highest part of the dust of the world.
When he prepared the heavens, I was there:
When he set a compass upon the face of the depth:
When he established the clouds above:
When he strengthened the fountains of the deep:
When he gave to the sea his decree, that the waters should not pass his commandment:
When he appointed the foundations of the earth:
Then I was by him, as one brought up with him: and I was daily his delight, rejoicing always before him;
Rejoicing in the habitable part of his earth;
And my delights were with the sons of men.
Now therefore hearken unto me, O ye children:
For blessed are they that keep my ways.
Hear instruction, and be wise, and refuse it not.
Blessed is the man that heareth me, watching daily at my gates, waiting at the posts of my doors.
For whoso findeth me findeth life, and shall obtain favour of the LORD. (Prov. 8:23-35)

If we are ever going to discuss the Divine Feminine in our 2010 Old Testament study, this is the lesson to do it. Many biblical scholars feel that the personification of Wisdom in the Proverbs represents a female Divinity.  In these verses Sophia addresses Israel as her children with the authority of a Divine Being, and has great power and dominion.   She is a “tree of life” (Prov. 3:18), connecting her with other Near-Eastern deities as well as the source of eternal life in the Book of Mormon.

In the scriptures, there is additional female imagery which tends to support the existence of a feminine counterpart to God. I hesitate to use them as proof-texts for a Mother in Heaven. These passages can just as well be interpreted to mean that a male Deity has loving and nurturing characteristics. However, if one believes, as I do, that “Elohim” consists of both a Mother and a Father God, the verses that follow add welcome insight into possible roles and characteristics of a Divine Mother Goddess.

One of the early titles for God in the Old Testament is El Shaddai. This word has been translated “Almighty God,” or “God of the Mountains.” It may have linguistic ties to the word “breast,” prompting some to translate El Shaddai as “the breasted One.” Though I might not go as far as to use this translation, I enjoy the word play which is typical of Hebrew writing and which connects this title of God to breasts and nurturing. In the language used in Jacob’s blessing to his son Joseph in Genesis 49, El Shaddai gives him

“blessings of heaven above, blessings of the deep that lieth under, blessings of the breasts, and of the womb: The blessings of thy father have prevailed above the blessings of my progenitors unto the utmost bound of the hills: they shall be on the head of Joseph, and on the crown of the head of him that was separate from his brethren.”

Isaiah uses many feminine images of God in his writings. Consider the following:

• Isaiah 42:14–a woman in labor whose forceful breath is an image of divine power.
• Isaiah 46:3-4–a mother who births and protects Israel.
• Isaiah 49:14-15–a mother who does not forget the child she nurses.
• Isaiah 66:12-13–a mother who comforts her children.

The following poem in Hosea 11:1-4 is in the first person, presenting God as a mother who calls, teaches, holds, heals, and feeds her son.

When Israel was a child, I loved him,
And out of Egypt I called My son.
The more I called them, the more they went from me;
They sacrificed to the Baals,
And burned incense to carved images.
Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk, I took them up in my arms;
but they did not know that I healed them.
I drew them with gentle cords,
With bands of love,
And I was to them as those who take the yoke from their neck.
I stooped and fed them.

It is possible that Hosea is indirectly presenting God as mother over against the fertility goddess of the Canaanite religion that he is challenging.
Interestingly, Hosea presents God as the husband figure in Hosea chapter 4, and the mother figure in chapter 11. These paired images suggest the male/female duality of God.

Searching for feminine images in the scriptures is a fruitful pursuit. There are many other examples too numerous to list here. I realize that different conclusions can be drawn from the presence of the Divine Feminine in scripture. Some faith traditions have posited that God is genderless, yet “accommodates to human limitations by using physical, relational, gender-laden images for self-disclosure.” Others believe that God is solely masculine and patriarchal but possesses qualities that we culturally see as feminine.  My inclination is to picture “Elohim” as a God consisting of both a male and female element.  I present this view as one which aligns with the Proclamation on the Family where it affirms the eternal nature of gender:

“All human beings—male and female—are created in the image of God. Each is a beloved spirit son or daughter of heavenly parents, and, as such, each has a divine nature and destiny. Gender is an essential characteristic of individual premortal, mortal, and eternal identity and purpose.”

Images by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

The prophet Elisha is introduced for the first time in 1 Kings 19.  Elijah has recently had his encounter with the 400 prophets of Baal and the still small voice of God on Mt. Horeb.  On his way from the mountain to the wilderness of Damascus Elijah finds Elisha plowing in a field.  He passes by him and throws his mantle over Elisha.  And scripture says that Elisha arose and followed Elijah, and became his servant.  Elisha doesn’t receive another mention until the end of Elijah’s ministry — when Elijah’s mantle falls from him as he is translated and is taken up by Elisha — and one can’t help but wonder about the relationship between the two in the interim.  How was Elisha prepared to succeed Elijah, and what relevance does this story have to succession in the Church today?

In the manual, our SS lesson discusses in depth how this story relates to succession in the Presidency of the Church, and how this “mantle” is transferred when the prophet dies.  But I think the story is also fitting for application on the ward level, where callings from Nursery Leader to Bishop are regularly passed around.  As we follow and serve under our ward leaders, we take upon ourselves the learning role of an Elisha.  In the Books of 1st and 2nd Kings, we may not have the details of how Elisha was prepared for his calling.  But 2 Kings 2:9-10 is instructive.  Immediately before Elijah is taken up into heaven he asks Elisha: “Ask what I shall do for thee, before I be taken away from thee.”  And Elisha replies, “I pray thee, let a double portion of thy spirit be upon me.”

Ask what I shall do for thee

Here the Elijah figure, or the one being released from the calling, is willing to train his or her successor.  He or she passes on the needed materials, explains what the calling entails, and makes themselves available as a source of information during the transition period.  I think it is important to see each calling as a legacy which is being passed down and improved upon each time a new member steps up to fill the position.  Holders of each calling should be willing to mentor others to succeed as their replacement.

Let a double portion of thy spirit be upon me

When Elisha asked to receive a “double portion” of Elijah’s spirit he was not seeking a ministry twice as great as his master’s but he was using cultural terms derived from inheritance law to express his desire to carry on Elijah’s ministry. Inheritance law assigned a double portion of a father’s possessions to the firstborn son [see Deut. 21:17]. Elijah’s response that “if thou see me when I am taken from thee, it shall be so unto thee” left the gift Elisha requested in God’s hands. Elisha does see Elijah being taken up by the chariots of God at the Jordan River and God does fulfill the request — Elijah received the “double portion” = the power and authority of his master.  This is demonstrated by Elijah’s performance of 8 works of God while Elisha accomplishes 16.

Elijah’s 8 miracles:

Elisha’s 16 miracles:

Each of us has likely experienced numerous changes in Church callings over the years.  I have had some interesting feelings both in receiving and in giving up callings.  I’ve discovered that we need mentors — wise and faithful guides, advisers, or teachers — to apply an unseen, affirming influence and positive energy as callings change.   The mentor’s spirit can promote healthy relationships in every presidency, classroom and organization.  There must be a willingness to share our ministry.  This sharing comes from a place of deep satisfaction and peace about the work we have done over the years.  The work hasn’t always been easy and there may be a certain reticence to let go of hard won accomplishments.  But the mentor’s spirit reminds us that it is not so much a letting go as it is a passing on.

Note especially what Elijah says next: “Thou hast asked a hard thing.” It’s hard both to give up and to accept a calling. For me, one of the hardest releases I experienced was that of Seminary teacher. I held the calling for several years. I put a lot of time and energy into it, and I came to self-identify as the Seminary teacher. I wanted to be the best one ever. I wanted to affect the lives of my students and I wanted them to love me. When a new teacher was called, I didn’t want him to be as successful as I was. To this day I have a hard time when a new Seminary teacher is called in the ward. It is just as hard to accept new callings with grace and equanimity. Some people feel inadequate, doubting they can measure up to what has been done by their predecessor. Some accept with pride, thinking that they can do a better job than has been done in the past. Neither attitude takes full advantage of the mentoring process.

As Elijah and Elisha continued walking and talking by the Jordan River, a chariot of fire and horses of fire took Elijah up into heaven in a whirlwind.  Both Elijah and Elisha experienced the presence and the power of God in that moment. I believe that we can experience the same as we struggle with the difficult issue of passing on and accepting Ward callings.

“Take an old piece of clothing,” our SS lesson advises, “or a piece of paper that is cut in the shape of a piece of clothing and tear it into 12 pieces. Explain that toward the end of Solomon’s life, the prophet Ahijah prophesied that Jeroboam, one of Solomon’s 12 superintendents over taxes and labor, would take over much of the Israelite nation. To illustrate this, Ahijah seized the garment from the back of Jeroboam, tore it into 12 pieces, and gave 10 of the pieces to Jeroboam.”  The lesson teaches that the influence of wicked leaders was instrumental in dividing the kingdom of Israel after Solomon’s death.

The Savior taught that “every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation” (Matthew 12:25).

I read this with some consternation, because lately I have been perusing a very interesting website.  It is a wiki collection of groups belonging to the Latter-day Saint movement put together by Alan Unsworth.  Does it surprise you to learn that there are at least 116 active groups and denominations which trace their history back to Joseph Smith, as well as 204 “Restoration Branches” and 154 defunct denominational groups?  And because many of these are secretive and insular, I don’t believe that this list includes them all.

One of the things that impressed me about the Mormon Church when I joined as a young adult was that Joseph Smith had received an answer and provided a solution to the tumult of opinions and the multiplicity of church organizations which surrounded him in nineteenth-century America.  I didn’t realize at the time of my baptism that beginning with his death, there have been serious divisions in the Church which continue to this day.  The more I have delved into the succession situation which faced the Church in 1844, the more I realize that several of the contenders for President of the Church at that time had legitimate claims.  The “main body” of the Church followed Brigham Young to the intermountain West, but those who gave their allegiance to Sidney Rigdon, William Bickerton, Granville Hedrick, or James Strang (and later Joseph Smith III) had good reasons for doing so.  The major movements can be easily viewed in the following visual:

Another major schism took place in the years immediately preceeding the Manifesto issued by Wilford Woodruff halting the practice of polygamy.  Many of the Mormon fundamentalist groups trace their history to an 1886 revelation given to John Taylor authorizing five men to carry on the work of the New and Everlasting Covenant of Plural Marriage and to ordain others to do so.  Other fundamentalist groups claim an apostasy in the LDS church and a restoration similar to that of Joseph Smith.  They ask their adherents to pray and receive revelation regarding the truthfulness of their claims, just as does the main body of the Saints.  A helpful chart of the major branches of the fundamentalist movement was produced by Brian Hales (click on image for clearer view):

When reading of the Divided Kingdom of Israel in the Old Testament, there is nothing which so reminds me of the situation the covenant people faced as the division among Restoration churches today.  Do you view the LDS Church as part of a divided kingdom?  Do you think it is justifiable to compare our situation today with that of Israel in the Old Testament?

Our Sunday School lesson this week attempts to deal with the conundrum with which we are faced when considering that Israel’s King Solomon, who was a paragon of wisdom having received this gift from the Lord, could make the decidedly unwise decision of marrying foreign wives and following them into idolatry.  

The lesson asks the following questions (answers provided):

• How did Solomon’s choice of wives show that he had turned away from God? (See 1 Kings 11:1–2. He married out of the covenant.) What did Solomon’s non-Israelite wives influence him to do? (See 1 Kings 11:3–8. Note that in the Joseph Smith Translation, verse 4 says that Solomon’s heart “became as the heart of David his father” and verse 6 says that “Solomon did evil in the sight of the Lord, as David his father.”)
• What did the Lord do when Solomon broke his covenants and turned away? (See 1 Kings 11:9–14, 23–25, 33–36.)
• How do you think the blessings of wisdom, riches, and honor contributed to Solomon’s downfall? How have you seen these strengths contribute to the downfall of people today? How can we ensure that our strengths do not become a downfall for us? (See 1 Kings 8:61; D&C 88:67.)

I’m not sure that marrying “out of the covenant” as we consider it today has an exact equivalent in Old Testament times.  However, the Torah did command the Israelite people to avoid marriages with foreigners.  Deuteronomy 7:1-5 (a Seminary Scripture Mastery scripture, btw) states: “neither shalt thou make marriages with them: thy daughter thou shalt not give unto his son, nor his daughter shalt thou take unto thy son. For he will turn away thy son from following Me, that they may serve other gods; so will the anger of the Lord be kindled against you, and He will destroy thee quickly.”  This is exactly what happened in the case of Solomon.  He must have realized the danger these associations presented, because he allowed the foreign women he married to live in his new palace in Jerusalem until the Temple was completed, then he moved them out of the city, saying, “No wife of mine shall dwell in the house of David king of Israel, because the places are holy, whereunto the ark of the Lord hath come.” (2 Chron 8:11; see also 1 Kings 3:1; 1 Kings 9:24)  However, in his later years, Solomon’s foreign wives influenced him to stray from the worship of the One God of Israel, to build altars and to offer sacrifices to the gods of other nations.

I urge the Sunday School teachers to tread lightly when covering this topic from the lesson manual.  You will surely have some in your class who will have personally encountered Solomon’s difficulty.  It’s a puzzle that’s harder to solve than the one he was faced with when two mothers claimed the same child.  It is a heartbreaking and a controversial one for me to consider.  On the one hand, my romantic heart appreciates the concessions Solomon made for the love of his wives.  The scriptures specifically describe how he “did cleave unto these in love.”  My reading of 1 Kings 11 shows a husband who is sensitive to the needs of his wives, building them places where they could worship their gods and feel at home among a foreign people.  He even joined them in their invocations.  This type of tolerant behavior would be encouraged today when dealing with any kind of mixed marriage.  But how far should one go when making concessions to a spouse who is not of one’s faith?  Should one attend their worship services, for example?  Should one allow his or her children to be taught religious catechisms which might conflict with our own?

The scriptures and the lesson manual teach us that Solomon’s wisdom failed when it came to his decisions regarding his wives and the idolatry into which he allowed them to lure him.  How much should a teacher emphasize these points and how much should we weigh the risks of offending?

Is it best to simply avoid all of these problems by never contracting a mixed marriage?  Many Latter-day Saints take the view that marriage outside of the temple, and especially to a non-member, should never be tolerated.  Some of our readers will undoubtedly hold that opinion.  I had a 50-year-old mission companion who had followed this admonition, remaining single her whole life rather than consider the alternative of marrying outside of the faith.  I think in her later years she became bitter and regretful that she had chosen this path.  Others seem content and sure about such a decision.  Ask Mormon Girl Joanna Brooks wrote a recent post here about the anxiety this difficult issue can cause in our young members.  Do you think the story of Solomon’s downfall in the scriptures gives definitive answers to the question of whether a Latter-day Saint should marry out of the covenant of temple marriage?  How much should the Sunday School teacher draw parallels from Solomon to class members?

The following statement was made by the LDS Church last Wednesday in conjunction with the execution of Ronnie Lee Gardner by firing squad in Utah.  I see this as a misunderstanding or a misrepresentation of what was taught in the past regarding the doctrine.

Mormon Church Statement on Blood Atonement

In the mid-19th century, when rhetorical, emotional oratory was common, some church members and leaders used strong language that included notions of people making restitution for their sins by giving up their own lives.  However, so-called “blood atonement,” by which individuals would be required to shed their own blood to pay for their sins, is not a doctrine of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We believe in and teach the infinite and all-encompassing atonement of Jesus Christ, which makes forgiveness of sin and salvation possible for all people.

Some church members and leaders used strong language

This statement glosses over the fact that it was the prophet and second president of the Church Brigham Young who initiated and publicly taught this doctrine numerous times, followed by later prophets and General Authorities in official discourse:

“There are sins that men commit for which they cannot receive forgiveness in this world, or in that which is to come, and if they had their eyes open to see their true condition, they would be perfectly willing to have their blood spilt upon the ground, that the smoke thereof might ascend to heaven as an offering for their sins; and the smoking incense would atone for their sins, whereas, if such is not the case, they will stick to them and remain upon them in the spirit world.

“I know, when you hear my brethren telling about cutting people off from the earth, that you consider it is strong doctrine; but it is to save them, not to destroy them….

“And further more, I know that there are transgressors, who, if they knew themselves, and the only condition upon which they can obtain forgiveness, would beg of their brethren to shed their blood, that the smoke thereof might ascend to God as an offering to appease the wrath that is kindled against them, and that the law might have its course. I will say further;

“I have had men come to me and offer their lives to atone for their sins.

“It is true that the blood of the Son of God was shed for sins through the fall and those committed by men, yet men can commit sins which it can never remit…. There are sins that can be atoned for by an offering upon an altar, as in ancient days; and there are sins that the blood of a lamb, or a calf, or of turtle dove, cannot remit, but they must be atoned for by the blood of the man.” (Sermon by Brigham Young, Journal of Discourses, Vol. 4, pages 53-54); also published in the Mormon Church’s Deseret News, 1856, page 235)

so-called “blood atonement,” by which individuals would be required to shed their own blood to pay for their sins, is not a doctrine of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Officially, the doctrine of Blood Atonement was to be practiced voluntarily.  However, Michael Quinn has shown evidence that this practice was carried out among church members and leaders and sanctioned by Brigham Young in the early days of Utah. (The Mormon Hierarchy: Extensions of Power, Vol. 2, pp. 241-261)

An appeal to Latter-day scriptures on the application of blood atonement to the sin of murder results in confusion. Alma 24 :10 states that murderers can receive forgiveness by repentance, while D&C 42:18 teaches that murder is unpardonable.  Attempting to doctrinally resolve this seeming conflict in a Deseret News article on July 4, 1883, Apostle Charles W. Penrose taught that in some cases such as murder done in anger or provocation, murder might be forgiven, but only after the guilty party atones for the murder by the shedding of blood. (Charles W. Penrose (July 4, 1883), “An Unpardonable Offense,” Deseret News 32 (24): 376.)  President Joseph Fielding Smith agreed, while making it clear that this should be completely voluntary on the part of the sinner:

Through the atonement of Christ all mankind may be saved, by obedience to the laws and ordinances of the gospel…Man may commit certain grievous sins — according to his light and knowledge — that will place him beyond the reach of the atoning blood of Christ. If then he would be saved he must make sacrifice of his own life to atone — so far as the power lies — for that sin, for the blood of Christ alone under certain circumstances will not avail…But that the Church practices “Blood Atonement” on apostates or any others, which is preached by ministers of the ‘Reorganization’ is a damnable falsehood for which the accusers must answer. (Joseph Fielding Smith (1954), Bruce R. McConkie, ed., Doctrines of Salvation, 1, Salt Lake City, Utah:Bookcraft.)

According to both Penrose and Joseph Fielding Smith, the doctrine of blood atonement was the reason the founders of Utah incorporated in the laws of the Territory provisions for capital punishment, giving murderers a choice to be shot by firing squad as a “willing expiation” for their sin.

Blood atonement was understood to be a doctrine of the Church, and influenced policy-making and practice among nineteenth-century Mormons.  I believe that the majority of modern members will welcome a change in this policy.  But to present this change as anything but a departure from that which was taught by early Church leaders as doctrine is disingenuous.

We believe in and teach the infinite and all-encompassing atonement of Jesus Christ, which makes forgiveness of sin and salvation possible for all people.

Finally we come to  the connection this post has to this week’s Sunday School lesson.  It is a common misperception that the Church teaches “the infinite and all-encompassing atonement of Jesus Christ.”  But in reality, our manuals and even our LDS edition of the scriptures teach that there are sins for which complete repentance through Christ’s atonement is not possible.  The murder of Uriah by King David is one of these.  Though David spent the rest of his life and hundreds of Biblical passages repenting of this sin, D&C 132:39 states:

The Bible Dictionary explains:

[David] was guilty of grave crimes; but unlike Saul, he was capable of true contrition and was therefore able to find forgiveness, except in the murder of Uriah. As a consequence David is still unforgiven, but he received a promise that the Lord would not leave his soul in hell. He will be resurrected at the end of the Millennium. Because of his transgressions, he has fallen from his exaltation.

Even the Sunday School manual concurs, backing up the position with a quote by Marion G. Romney:

Note that adultery is a serious sin, but David forfeited his exaltation because the Lord held him accountable for the murder of Uriah.

President Marion G. Romney said: “David, … though highly favored of the Lord (he was, in fact, referred to as a man after God’s own heart), yielded to temptation. His unchastity led to murder, and as a consequence, he lost his families and his exaltation” (in Conference Report, Apr. 1979, 60; or Ensign, May 1979, 42).

The LDS stance that King David was unable to be completely forgiven despite his obvious and sincere repentance has greatly bothered me.  Most other Christian churches teach that the atonement was active in David’s case, wholly cleansing him from all of his sins.  But the Mormon church does not.  That the fallen condition of David is so pervasively taught in LDS scripture, General Authority addresses, and curriculum materials lends credence to the doctrine of blood atonement as taught in the past.  In such cases, the Savior’s sacrifice is insufficient to cleanse transgressors from certain sins such as murder.  I witnessed one of the ramifications in Church policy when an investigator friend of mine in college was denied baptism into the Church because she had previously had an abortion.

I am curious to know the opinion of our readers on this subject.  First, do you feel the recent official statement above reflects an honest articulation of the teachings of the Church on Blood Atonement? Next, do you think that David lost his exaltation, and if so, does this place limits on the effects of Christ’s Atonement?

Mormonism today runs a balancing act between its roots of free speculation and the need to create a cohesive religious and cultural organization.  The social bond of a church is based at some vital level on common belief and understanding among people practicing their religion.  Lacking firm creeds, we conduct this balancing act on a personal level.  Problems arise when we attempt to impose our speculation on others.  Conflict occurs when we need others to validate our individual interpretations.  There is a line between personal belief and the beliefs that all Mormons must share in common.  But where is it?

There has to be official Mormon doctrine.  There has to be something common that brings people together in the religion.  Don Ashton recently published a paper on this topic at http://www.staylds.com.  It is called “What is Official Church Doctrine?”  You can find it in the “Additional Support Resources” section of the website: http://www.staylds.com/?page_id=29

Don argues that the official and binding core of ideas, the cannon of doctrine that is fixed, is actually limited and abstract.  That abstract characteristic allows following generations to interpret and develop the core to suit the needs of their contemporary environment.  The same can be done by individuals to meet personal needs in their eternal journey of progress towards divine enlightenment.

Don summarizes this nicely in his opening section:

The 14 million members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are spread across 160 countries on 6 continents. Yet there is a remarkable consistency in beliefs, attitudes, teachings and practices among Mormons everywhere. A traveler visiting congregations throughout the world will find familiar curricula materials, beliefs, and attitudes on most every religious topic.

Yet Mormonism is not dogmatic. There is no creed or statement of core beliefs which adherents are obliged to accept. Both members and leaders alike hold varying opinions ranging from whether watching TV on Sunday is sinful, to whether every statement by a General Authority must be explicitly and unconditionally obeyed.

Such questions may be insignificant or disquieting. If a person is struggling with faith issues, it may become important to distinguish between Official Doctrine and less authoritative council. A clear understanding of Official Doctrine can reduce controversy, minimize anxiety and perhaps open up new options for resolving faith issues. This essay attempts to evaluate the authoritativeness of council ranging from canonized scripture to conventional wisdom.

The practical implications of this speak to a common encounter, which is a feeling of having to believe or practice things sometimes that do not make sense to us.  The first question should then be whether the problem stems from an unbending core of fundamental doctrine; or instead, is it actually our own incorrect expectations and assumptions, someone else’s personal speculation, or something that we can freely explore.

Many ideas and practices touted as “official” are not.  They are someone’s personal speculation and interpretation of the core doctrine.  That means we are free to agree or disagree.  It does not mean that person is wrong in their religious journey.  What they do and believe may be valuable to them.  But we should feel justified and even compelled to use our free agency and God-given intelligence to build what works for us.  That is the soul inherited from our Church founding, and it is a theme to be nurtured today.  We should expect our understanding to evolve over the course of our life.  We should also expect the larger and broader concept of Restoration in the Church to continue its course of evolution from the past to today, and on into the future.

What do you think?  Discuss.

The story of David and Jonathan is one of the most inspiring examples of true friendship anywhere.  Our LDS SS manual firmly places this lesson within the mainstream view of Biblical exegesis, presenting the two as strong personal and platonic friends.  As I studied the covenant made between these young men in 1 Samuel 18, I was touched by the loyalty shown by the young Jonathan, because he “loved [David] as his own soul.”  Because of this love, Jonathan relinquishes his hopes for his father’s throne in deference to God’s choice.  In a symbolic and ceremonial gesture, Jonathan strips off his robe, which represents the authority he holds to succeed his father, King Saul, and gives it to David.  He also gives David his sword and his bow, representing his military prerogative; and his girdle, which symbolizes spiritual truths and the kingdom of God.

But other writers, beginning with Homer and continuing to the present day, have noted the strong elements of intimacy and eroticism within the relationship.  David’s love for Jonathan is described as “wonderful, passing the love of women.”  Saul also reprimands Jonathan at the dinner table, accusing him that “thou hast chosen the son of Jesse to thine own confusion, and unto the confusion of thy mother’s nakedness.”  Martti Nissinen concludes that this “choosing (bahar) may indicate a permanent choice and firm relationship, and the mention of “nakedness” (erwa) could be interpreted to convey a negative sexual nuance, giving the impression that Saul saw something indecent in Jonathan’s and David’s relationship.  Some also interpret this as Saul’s caution that choosing David as a lover meant that Jonathan could not produce an heir to the throne. There is also an exchange pointing to 1 Samuel 18:21. Here Saul tells David that when he marries Michal he will become his son-in-law for the second time.  There is reason to suppose the union of Jonathan and David represents the first.

What does it mean that the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David?

In trying to interpret the story of these two Biblical figures, I am greatly influenced by my reading of Michael Quinn’s Same-Sex Dynamics among Nineteenth-Century Americans.  In this book, Quinn describes a nineteenth-century Mormon culture far more hospitable to and tolerant of same-sex relationships than that of modern Mormonism, which he regards as “homophobic.”  He gives several examples of long-term relationships among Mormon couples he believes were homosexual.  But in doing so, he also admits of a world and an era where emotional intimacy and physical closeness of same-sex friends did NOT involve homoeroticism.  He gives examples of letters written in the nineteenth century between platonic friends which contained emotional intensity and passionate references.  Same-sex friends held hands, kissed each other on the lips, and sometimes slept in the same bed for years at a time. These things are more aptly described as “homosociality.”   Reading about this phenomenon gave me an insight into the world view of previous ages that I had not understood before reading the book.

At times when I read the story of David and Jonathan through my twenty-first-century lens, I have wondered if these men were not physically intimate.  The words and images used to describe their relationship are passionate, ardent, concupiscent.  But reading about some of the homosocial behaviors Quinn describes has convinced me that David and Jonathan were not gay.  I agree with Quinn that too many Americans find homosociality frightening. Some of my returned-missionary friends have spoken with embarrassment of the strong male bonding they experienced on their missions.  They recall vivid episodes involving platonic intimacy — walking arm-in-arm, embracing, and other emotional and physical affection.  We are suspicious and uncomfortable with these things in our modern paradigm.  But homosociality can be an enlightening concept to consider.  I’m glad this relationship is included among all of the other unusual associations described in the Old Testament!

BONUS: The woodcut of Jonathan and David pictured below may be astonishingly evocative, both to LDS members endowed before 1990 and to those familiar with Masonic ritual.

]]> http://mormonmatters.org/2010/06/17/homosociality-and-the-friendship-between-david-and-jonathan/feed/ 22 http://mormonmatters.org/2010/06/10/you-cant-ride-two-donkeys-with-one-ass-saul-and-spiritual-rebirth/ http://mormonmatters.org/2010/06/10/you-cant-ride-two-donkeys-with-one-ass-saul-and-spiritual-rebirth/#comments Thu, 10 Jun 2010 10:00:48 +0000 Bored in Vernal http://mormonmatters.org/?p=11625 OT SS Lesson #22

Ever since I was introduced to the word “liminal,” I have claimed it as my own. This word describes a threshold or a transitional position — a balancing point between two states of being. For many years I have felt poised on the threshold between two totally different ways of viewing the world. One is scientific and rational. The other is a place where angels materialize and shake your hand, where dreams have meaning, where God’s words come out of men’s mouths when they lay their hands on your head. Many members of the Church seem easily able to slip between both of these worlds. But I see a fundamental difference between the two world views. In the naturalistic view of the universe, events do not violate natural laws and are subject to the principles of empirical investigation. In the mystical view, divine intervention is possible outside of natural law.

Striving to make sense of my world has been like trying to ride two donkeys with one ass. I often feel quite schizophrenic for even making the attempt. I do it because I feel like both paradigms are equally valid and I can’t imagine jumping off on one side or the other and excising a vital part of my being. But living a double life makes me feel uncomfortable around everyone. For example, when I am with a certain group of Mormons I can’t fathom why they don’t realize that the founder of their Church took the temple ceremony largely from Masonry, a tradition whose roots are not as ancient as some suppose. Then when I am with another group of my LDS friends I feel equally out of place because I recognize some sort of cosmic connection to the Infinite which occurs at these mystical points of ascent.

Liminality in my life is reading the RS/PH handbook at home and critiquing it from a secular/humanist perspective; then later in Church giving that same lesson from a mystical worldview, and feeling some Greater Power assisting me to articulate the principles. Afterwards I feel dizzy and disoriented. Am I leading people astray? Was that a real experience or just my emotions or hormones coming into play?

This week’s SS lesson is centered around the heart; and the story of Saul, Israel’s proto-monarch, is a perfect place to start for someone who is not quite sure of the state of hers.

To begin with, it is possible that in the course of Biblical transmission, Saul’s birth narrative was dispossessed by another. Biblical scholars have noted that the wordplay in 1 Samuel 1 works best when applied to Saul’s name, but this has been replaced by Samuel. In Hebrew, “Saul” can mean “petition,” “request,” or “thing given.” Thus verse 20 may have originally read:

And she named him Saul, saying, “Because I have ‘sauled’ him (requested him) from YHWH.

The etymology is carried through in verses 17, 20, 27, and 28. But for a variety of reasons, the birth narrative has been transferred to the prophet Samuel.  Was it Saul, rather than Samuel, who was dedicated to the Lord by his mother?  Was it Saul who was divinely appointed and raised?

The reader next encounters Saul in a narrative of spiritual rebirth. Saul is searching for lost donkeys, and ends up visiting Samuel. This prophet anoints Saul and tells him that the Lord’s Spirit shall come upon him, he shall prophesy, and he will be “turned into another man.” That day, “God gave him another heart.” The significance of this regeneration which seems so obvious when reading chapter 10 is actually hotly debated in Christian circles.

“Was Saul saved?” evangelicals wonder.  They point to later actions and speculate whether his heart had really been changed.  I confess that Saul’s actions at Gilgal seem defensible to me. The Lord had commanded that burnt offerings be made before going into battle. Saul had gathered his army and the Philistines were threatening. Saul waited the agreed-upon seven days for Samuel, but he didn’t show. The Israelite army was beginning to scatter. So Saul went ahead and performed the sacrifice. What a conundrum he faced! Should he wait for Samuel, and lose his army? Should he go into battle without performing the sacrifice? Or should he offer the sacrifice himself, without the necessary authority? Doubtless I would have made the same choice Saul did. But we are told that his heart was in the wrong place — that “obedience is better than sacrifice” — and that at this point his kingdom was lost and given to another.

This was a pivotal moment for Saul, and through the rest of his life he wavered between acts of anger and rebellion, and heartfelt repentance. The mental distress he experienced is anguishing.

Saul strikes me as a man trying to ride two donkeys, and I have the greatest compassion for him.  I’d like to end this post with a poem by John Donne which I can envision coming from my mouth, and from Saul’s.  It’s a  lament from a soul which recognizes the pull of the profane and natural man, yet longs for a mystical union with the Divine.

Holy Sonnet XIV

Batter my heart, three person’d God; for, you

As yet but knocke, breathe, shine, and seeke to mend;

That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow mee,’and bend

Your force, to breake, blowe, burn and make me new.

I, like an usurpt towne, to’another due,

Labour to’admit you, but Oh, to no end,

Reason your viceroy in mee, mee should defend,

But is captiv’d, and proves weake or untrue.

Yet dearely’I love you,’and would be loved faine,

But am betroth’d unto your enemie:

Divorce mee,’untie, or breake that knot againe;

Take mee to you, imprison mee, for I

Except you’enthrall mee, never shall be free,

Nor ever chast, except you ravish mee.

When we lived in Saudi Arabia a few years ago, I obtained a faculty position in the fairly newly-formed department of Health and P.E. at a university which was strictly segregated by gender.  The women’s side of the university operated independently, with our own female custodians, technical staff, professors and administration,  and very little oversight from the male president.  Our department consisted of five women, and we made all decisions collectively, with no titular head.  After the first semester I was there, one of our staff meetings was dedicated to the question of whether we should have a department head.  Being the newest addition to the faculty, I had little say in this decision, but I did bring up the point that we had successfully administrated the department jointly, and I questioned the necessity of one department head.  It would completely change the group dynamics that we had experienced as a body of women removed from a patriarchal hierarchy and which I very much enjoyed.  The reply from all of the rest of the women, though there had been no problems thus far, was that “you HAVE to have a leader,” that one person MUST be in charge of any organization.

At the time I was struck by how much this assertion resembled the one I have heard from many Mormons justifying the hierarchical, patriarchal system in place in the Church, both within the institution and within our individual families.  The argument seems to be that harmonious resolution of difficulties is impossible without one leader to make final decisions.  I am not entirely sure I agree that no other model beside the “one-leader rule,” or what I will here call the “kingship” model is viable in administrating a successful community.

The kingship model of administration appears to have been particularly desirable throughout history.  It seems obvious that strong personality types would desire to set up a system of governance where they were in charge of making all the decisions.  But the scriptural record and our OT SS Lesson #21 show that groups of people also wish to configure their communities under the supervision of a king.  1 Samuel 8 recounts the story of the Israelite people, dissatisfied with judges and prophets, clamoring for Samuel to get them a king.  Their reasoning is found in verse 20: they want to be like the other nations, they want one strong leader to judge them, and they desire to be under the protection of a military commander who will lead them in battle.

Passages in the Book of Mormon also describe this desire of the general population to set up a monarchy.  In Mosiah 23 the people want Alma to be their king because of their great admiration for him.  In 3 Ne 7 a league of tribes attempt to establish a kingship in order to overthrow the tribal system of government then operating.  In Alma 51 there is also an attempt to overthrow the current leadership and inculcate a kingship, inspired in part by pride and aspirations to nobility.  In each case in the scriptures where there is a desire to crown a king, it is denounced as contrary to the ideals of freedom.  Several reasons are given in these passages as to why kingship is considered malapropos:

• It is a rejection of divine rule in favor of human rule (1 Sam 8:7)
• A king would allocate human and natural resources to his own advantage (1 Sam 8:11-17)
• One man should not think of himself as being above another; kingship gives those of high birth unfair power and authority (Mosiah 23:7; Alma 51:8)
• Not all kings can be trusted to be just (Mosiah 23:8,13,14)
• A king can oppress people and lead them into iniquity (Mosiah 23:12)
• A monarchy is not a free government (Alma 51:6)

Sometimes I wonder how women in the Judeo-Christian tradition got stuck with the gender role identifications they have. The Old Testament doesn’t include many detailed descriptions of women, but when they do appear, they are not what you’d think. To prove my point, I’m going to investigate two women featured in this week’s Sunday School lesson, plus Deborah the judge/prophetess, and the ubiquitous “virtuous woman” of Proverbs 37.

Deborah

• Prophet – In the Book of Judges where Deborah is introduced into the Biblical record, she is identified as a “woman prophet,” and the wife of Lapidoth.  This may strike the members of a patriarchal religion as unusual, but the word “prophet” is a feminine form of the same word as that used to describe Moses and Abraham as prophets.
• Judge — We are told that the people of Israel came to Deborah for judgment.  Conservative Christian commentaries sometimes explain that this was necessary, because none of the men were worthy at the time.  But there is no indication in the scriptures that unworthiness made a man ineligible to serve as a deliverer.  This is especially evident in the case of Sampson.  It looks like the people came to her because she was a competent and talented judge, as well as being the one raised up by the Lord for that purpose.
• Leader — Deborah makes executive decisions in the military field, as when she chooses Barak to be the captain of the army.  She then accompanies him into battle, giving strategic direction.
• Mother in Israel — but NOT what you’re thinking!  Strangely enough, this is one of only two places where the term “mother in Israel” is used.  (Mother in Zion is not a scriptural term.)  Here it has nothing to do with Deborah having children; we don’t even know if she did.  Instead it refers to her guiding influence over the emerging nation of Israel.

Whenever I come across an odd story in the Old Testament, I feel compelled pull it apart and try to make some sense out of it. Why is it there? Does it have some symbolic meaning of which we are unaware? Are we misinterpreting crucial aspects? Would it make more sense within the cultural milieu? Such is the story of this lesser-known Biblical judge.

This strange little story begins with an “unlikely hero,” Jephthah, the son of a prostitute. He was taken into his father’s family and raised there, but after the death of his father the legitimate children forced him to leave. He made some reputation for himself among a band of “vain men,” so that when his countrymen needed help against the Ammonites, they came to him. Jephthah agreed to captain an army against Ammon, in return for being named their titular head. His first military action was an attempt to negotiate with the enemy. When that did not work, he gathered together the men of Israel. The Spirit of the Lord came upon Jephthah, and he went forth to battle, making a interesting vow to the Lord. If the Lord would help him win the battle, he would dedicate to the Lord and offer up for a burnt offering whatever should come forth from the doors of his house to meet him when he returned.

After a successful conquest, Jephthah returned home and was greeted by his daughter, his only child. That she was a precious and only child is pointed up by the fact that the judges immediately before and after him were Jair (who had thirty sons who rode on thirty ass colts), and Ibzan (who had thirty sons and thirty daughters). The number of children is the only fact we are told about these two judges, making it very likely that they are there solely for the reason of emphasizing Jephthah’ only begotten child. But she was a female.

Not only was human sacrifice forbidden by the Lord, (Deut. 18:10), but burnt offerings were to be firstborn males (Lev. 1:3). Nevertheless, Jephthah had made a vow, and intended to keep it. His daughter acquiesced, asking only for two months time to go up to the mountains with some friends and “bewail her virginity.” At the end of the two months, she returned to her father, and he “did with her according to his vow which he had vowed, and she knew no man.” Thereafter it became a custom for the daughters of Israel to go up four days in a year to lament the fate of the daughter of Jephthah.

The tradition of Biblical scholars is to interpret this vow of Jephthah’s as an impetuous and evil action which had disastrous consequences. That Latter-day Saints have followed in this tradition is clear from the chapter heading of Judges 11: “He makes a rash vow which leads to sacrifice of his only daughter.”

This interpretation is problematic for at least two reasons. First, if this was a “rash vow,” why would the Lord be given credit for bringing about the victory of Jephthah’s army? In the Book of Judges, the people are punished with captivity and defeat when they forsake the Lord. Second, why would Jephthah make such a vow? Did he think perhaps an animal would be the first out the door to greet him? (In ancient Israel the animals were sometimes kept in the house.) What if the animal was an unclean one, such as a dog? To offer up such a sacrifice would be a great affront. But perhaps the greatest problem Biblical scholars face in the exegesis of this passage is the inclusion of Jephthah in Hebrews 11 — the “faith chapter.” Here Jephthah is included along with the great heroes of the Old Testament in obtaining “a good report through faith.”

I rather favor an interpretation that became popular in medieval times and has been revived recently — that Jephthah was promising only to dedicate his daughter to the Lord and not to kill her. This would parallel Jephthah’s daughter more to Samson and to Samuel than to Abraham’s sacrifice of Isaac. But it would preserve the Messianic shadowing. Several points make this interpretation possible:

1. The Hebrew “vav” usually translated “and” may also be translated as “or” rendering the reading in Judges 11:31: “whatsoever cometh forth…to meet me…shall surely be the Lord’s, or I will offer it up as a burnt offering.” Thus Jephthah’s method of sacrifice would depend upon what came forth out of his door.
2. The daughter departed into the mountains to “bewail her virginity,” not her death. It is possible that she was being offered to some type of temple service which would necessitate her remaining unwed for the rest of her life. Note verse 39 which says that Jephthah kept “his vow which he had vowed: and she knew no man.” This last clause would seem awkward and unnecessary if she were being put to death.
3. Certain Hebrew scholars believe that for as long as she lived, the virgins of Israel went at different times, each for four days in the year, to provide comfort and encouragement to the daughter of Jephthah at the tent of meeting. This custom must have ended at her death, since there is no further reference to it in scripture or Jewish history.

You see that it is possible to fit this story quite nicely into our Latter-day Saint canon. Faithful Jephthah makes a promise to the Lord, and keeps his promise. Faithful Jephthah’s daughter yields herself to her father’s vow and becomes a type of Christ.  Handel uses a variation of this interpretation in his oratorio, Jephtha.  I’ll share with you a lovely aria from the oratorio below.  Here Jeptha is reconciled to the blood sacrifice of his daughter, and sings “Waft her, angels, through the skies,” before learning that her death is not required, and she shall instead be dedicated to God in a pure and virgin state for the rest of her life.

The story doesn’t fit quite so nicely into feminist thought, however…or does it? What was the name of this intriguing daughter? What was she like? Didn’t she deserve to make her own decisions? Why must her life be subject to her father’s vow? Here’s the other side of the question: if Samuel and Isaac were obedient to the vows of their parents, isn’t it equal treatment for a young woman in the scriptures to show the same dedication? Is submission not a principle that Christ modeled, and which males and females must all learn? In my search for spiritual submission, is it helpful to have a female role model? Or would this simply reinforce unrighteous patriarchal domination which tends to crop up in religious settings? Can it be possible to spin this story into a celebration of a strong woman character who makes her own decisions and chooses on her own to follow the Lord? And what of my own life? Is it conceivable to view the submission I have promised in the temple as a glorious principle even though the submission my husband covenants is to God, and mine is to a mere mortal? Is the surrender I give freely in this holy place simply that required of all Christian disciples? Or does God require of women an additional offering? Does Jephthah’s daughter hold the key? Am I to become a daughter on the pyre? I’m still wondering.

The advantage of blogging the SS lessons instead of teaching them is that I get to cover the chapters that are totally skipped by correlation. (This one [Joshua 5] probably for good reason, but it deserves a mention SOMEWHERE.)

Everyone knows that good Jews are circumcised. God instituted the covenant with Abraham, and faithful Jews have been performing this ordinance on their 8-day-old males ever since, right?

WRONG!

Immediately after Israel crossed the Jordan into the Promised Land under their new leader, Joshua, they were given a commandment. They were told to again circumcise the entire company of the children of Israel.  This was necessary because none of the people who were born during the 40 years in the wilderness had been circumcised.  All the males who left Egypt over the age of 20 had been circumcised but had died in the wilderness.  Joshua circumcised their children, whom Jehovah had raised up in their place. They stayed at the Hill of Foreskins a while to heal.  God told Joshua, “Today I have rolled away (galal) the reproach of Egypt from you” and thus the place was called Gilgal. Gilgal means “heap of stones” or “stone circle”; it sounds similar to galal (“to roll away”).

Given that circumcision was commanded in the Torah, and also a necessary prerequisite to participation in the Passover celebration, why weren’t the Israelites circumcised during that 40-year period?  I think the answer has to do with Moses’ attitude toward circumcision.

Though Moses was born into an Israelite family, it is not certain that he was ever circumcised as a baby.  At least, it is not included in his birth narrative in the scriptural record.  To correct this oversight, some commentators have even tried to assert that Moses was “born circumcised.”  Whether or not this is true, we know that his sons did not inherit this genetic trait!  After marrying and having two sons in the land of Midian, Moses went back to Egypt with his wife and children.  We read about this incident in Exodus 4:18-26:

And Moses went and returned to Jethro his father in law, and said unto him, Let me go, I pray thee, and return unto my brethren which are in Egypt, and see whether they be yet alive. And Jethro said to Moses, Go in peace.  And the Lord said unto Moses in Midian, Go, return into Egypt: for all the men are dead which sought thy life.  And Moses took his wife and his sons, and set them upon an ass, and he returned to the land of Egypt…

And it came to pass by the way in the inn, that the Lord met him, and sought to kill him.  Then Zipporah took a sharp stone, and cut off the foreskin of her son, and cast it at his feet, and said, Surely a bloody husband art thou to me.  So he let him go: then she said, A bloody husband thou art, because of the circumcision.

It appears that Moses and his wife recognized that the Lord was preventing Moses from proceeding because one of his sons had not been circumcised.  We can speculate that Moses circumcised his firstborn son at the proper age, and that Zipporah was appalled at the bloody act.  Perhaps that was why they decided not to circumcise the other son.  When the Lord chose Moses to lead the nation of Israel out of the land of Egypt, it was necessary that he make a decision: circumcise his son, or die!  Zipporah relented, but was not happy about it.  I think that this incident made Moses very conflicted about the practice of circumcision.  He himself may even have been circumcised later in life, a painful experience!  No wonder he was not strict about making sure the nation of Israel complied with this ordinance while in the wilderness.  But when Moses died and the new generation entered Canaan, a ritual was enacted as a type of the plan of salvation.

Tony Badillo explains the symbolism of the events which took place at the crossing of the Jordan and at Gilgal.  A careful reading of Joshua 4:8-9 shows that twelve stones were taken out of the river and placed on the new land as a memorial, and twelve stones were also taken from the dry land and placed in the midst of the Jordan.  The twelve smooth, rounded river stones symbolized Israel circumcised, analogous to the smoothness of the male reproductive organ after circumcision; a new spiritual beginning in a new land.  The twelve rough stones taken from the dry land represented the uncircumcised male organ; placed in the Jordan to signify death to sin.

Reading these OT passages with our SS lesson gives us the opportunity to reflect on the rich symbolic meanings which lie behind the violent act of circumcision.  I tend to identify with Zipporah on this matter, shrinking from the bloody, brutal deed.  But in the latter-day we are asked to circumcise the foreskin of our hearts, removing our pride and exposing our tender, inner selves to the influence of the Spirit.  We have to be “strong and of a good courage” to do this!   It can be more painful and difficult even than the physical act of circumcision.  As Badillo puts it: “Outer circumcision of the flesh may be done by anyone skillfully using a knife; but inward circumcision of the heart can be done only by the Lord’s spirit , and it is this type circumcision (for subduing the sinful inclination ) that Joshua’s men received at the crossing of the Jordan.”

A worthy Sunday School lesson, even if it didn’t make the manual!

The story of Balak and Balaam is a study in the marvelous complexity and richness of Biblical literature.  The pericope includes five narrative sections, four poetic prophecies, and a fable (the tale of the angel and the ass).  It also includes commentaries found elsewhere in the scriptures.

When teaching this lesson in the past, I have started with the narrative sections, which contain the foundation of the story.  The first narrative, found in Numbers 22:1-21, tells of Balak, king of Moab, who becomes distressed because the Israelites have come out of Egypt in a mighty company and he is afraid of their military strength.  He wishes to drive them out of the land, so he seeks out and offers a reward to Balaam, a prophet, if he will lay a curse upon Israel.  Balaam first refuses, but then agrees to prophesy, warning Balak that he will only speak the words that Jehovah gives him to say.  It has been pointed out that very few people in the Bible are as confusing and contradicting as Balaam. As a result there are many views concerning him; was Balaam a true believer in God, a false, pagan prophet, or a back-slidden believer who succumbed to the temptations of life?  This first narrative yields a clue — Balaam refers to the Lord as “Jehovah my God.”  The fact that he uses the tetragrammaton here tells me that although Balaam is a non-Israelite from Pethor, he is intimately familiar with the Hebrew God.  This God speaks to him many times throughout the story.

Those of you who know your BiV will remember how impressed I am by a man who can quote scripture or recite poetry. So it won’t surprise you that I am head-over-heels in love with Balaam when he does both by the end of Chapter 23.  After the second narrative section, Numbers 22:36-23:6, in which Balaam builds seven altars [1] and offers sacrifice in the mountains overlooking the camp of Israel, God speaks to the prophet in the first of four of the most lovely examples of Hebrew poetry in the Old Testament.  Biblical Hebrew scholars will know what I mean, but for the rest, I have translated these prophecies into a poetic form English speakers will recognize. [2]

Balak, the king of Moab from the mountains of the East
Hath brought me from my country to perform a shameful deed:
Come and curse this Jacob, come hinder Israel.
But how shall I rebuke those upon whom God’s mercies dwell?
How can I smite the nation that Jehovah keepeth well?
From high atop the rocky cliff, I see this mighty fold,
From the hills above this place, their army I behold.
A people who shall stand apart and always live alone;
Among the nations’ reckoning, they scarcely shall be known.
But yet the dust of Jacob shall soon be too vast to count;
The tribes of Israel shall be in numbers that will mount.
O may my death be likewise, my rest an endless fount! (Numbers 23:7-10)

In the third narrative, Numbers 23:11-17, King Balak remonstrates with Balaam for blessing, rather than cursing Israel.  He takes the prophet to a smaller hill, where the view of the encroaching army is not so large or terrifying.  There Balaam again builds seven altars and offers sacrifice.  The prophecy comes as follows:

Arise, Balak, and listen; hear now, O Zippor’s son:
God is no man, no liar he, no human who must run.
What he hath spoken he’ll make good, his sayings shall be done;
He bids me bless, and once I bless, constrained, I call back none.
There is no sin in Jacob, no fault in Israel;
Jehovah God is with him, shouting for this King as well.

God brought them out of Egypt’s pox,
Like the lofty horns of a wild ox.
Jacob scorns the enchanter’s pow’r;
To Israel the diviners cower.

Behold this mighty people who now rise up as a lion
And eat the prey and drink the blood — What God hath wrought in Zion! (Numbers 23:18-24)

As expected, Balak is none too pleased with the second prophecy.  But he tries one more time to use Balaam’s power to his advantage.  This is not surprising, for there is evidence from outside the Bible record that Balaam was a well-known seer; a cursing prophet living in the environs of Deir Alla, Jordan. [3] In this fourth narrative, Numbers 23:25-24:2, Balaam is taken to an even less advantageous vantage point.  Altars are once again built, and sacrifices offered.  But this time, Balaam approaches God in a more humble spirit.  He goes, seeking not “nechashim” (translated in our KJV Bibles as “enchantments”).  We have encountered this word before — just a chapter before Balaam’s story begins. Nechashim are the serpents which afflicted the children of Israel in the wilderness, a brazen one of which Moses lifted up on a pole to symbolize the Savior.  These serpents are described as “seraphim,” translated variously as “fiery,” “poisonous,” or “enchanter.”  I like to interpret them as being symbolic of false gods, with Moses’ brazen serpent standing for the true Messiah. [4] This would mean that Balaam is turning from any false system of thought that might remain in his beliefs after communing with Jehovah, and striving for the truth.  And the word of the Lord comes to him again:

How goodly, Jacob, are thy tents,
And Israel’s dwellings, tribe by tribe:
As aloes green, as valleys wide,
As gardens by the riverside,
As cedars near the stream abide.

Water from thy branch shall flow,
Thy seed in many waters go;
Thy king be highest, and the best,
Thy kingdom ris’n above the rest!

God brought thee forth from Egypt’s scorn,
Just as the wild ox’s horn
To eat the nations, break their bones
And pierce them through with arrows honed.

Thou shalt couch down as a lioness,
And bless all those who call thee blessed,
And curse all those who fail the test. (Numbers 24:3-9)

A cursing at last!  But not upon Israel, rather, her enemies.  Following this prophecy, the narrative tells us (Numbers 24:10-14), Balak is furious.

“I was going to promote you to great honor,” he tells Balaam.  ”But now, forget it!”

Balak replies by making it abundantly clear that though the king might offer him a house full of silver and gold, he cannot go beyond the commandment of the Lord. And then he gives a final prophecy, for good measure, one he says concerns the latter days. This one turns out to be Messianic. Fifteen hundred years later, seers from the East will take these words seriously and use them to find a babe in an obscure location in Israel:

Balaam, the son of Beor am I –
I hear the words of the Most High,
I see his vision with mine eye,
Yea, I behold him, but not nigh.

A star from Jacob in the skies
From Israel, a scepter rise;
Smiting Moab’s corners ’round
And breaking Seth’s descendants down.

Edom, too, shall be possessed,
Seir, the adversaries, pressed –
Israel doeth this with zest.

From Jacob, One will have the rule,
And shall destroy the remnant cruel.
Amalek was first of all,
But in the end the great shall fall.

And Cain, though firm from every knock,
A nested one upon a rock
Nonetheless shall wasted be,
When Assyria comes for thee.

God appoints this: do not boast.
Ships shall sail from Kittim’s coast,
Afflict Assyria by ploy,
And Eber also shall destroy. (Numbers 24:15-24)

Now, you Sunday School teachers will have noticed that what I have written above gives a different interpretation than our Lesson Manual.  I find it curious that the indications we have that Balaam was not a completely righteous prophet come from later scriptures, namely the following:

• Num 31:8: Moses’ warriors slew Balaam
• Num 31:16: Balaam counseled the Midianites how to cause the Israelites to commit sin.
• Deut 23:3-6: The Lord turned Balaam’s curse into a blessing
• Josh 13:22: The Israelites slew Balaam, who was a soothsayer
• 2 Peter 2:15-16: Balaam loved unrighteousness, was rebuked for his sin when his ass forbad his madness.
• Jude 1:11: Woe unto those who run greedily after the error of Balaam for reward
• Rev 2:14: Balaam taught Balak to cast a stumbling block before the children of Israel, to eat things sacrificed unto idols, and to commit fornication.

There are additional passages which mention Balaam, but not in a condemnatory manner.  This leaves open the possibility that the Balaam pericope was initially quite positive.  Later attitudes toward toward Balaam may have changed when Israelite misfortunes at the hands of neighboring nations, with whom Balaam was identified, brought him into disrepute.

And NOW it is time to discuss the story of the angel and the ass.  (Did you think I’d forgotten?)

Many Biblical scholars conclude that the Tale of Balaam’s Ass is a distinct literary entity which derives from a separate source.  This fable is an adaptation of an originally independent folktale in a mode similar to ancient Near Eastern wisdom literature.  The Tale reflects the late, hostile evaluation of Balaam common to other Biblical passages. [5] As I read Numbers 22:21-35, it seems quite clear that this fable has a different purpose than the rest of the scripture block.  There is a sudden switch, from verse 20, where God tells Balaam to go with Balak’s men, to verse 22, when without explanation God’s anger is kindled against the prophet for taking the journey.  The story of an angel trying to prevent Balaam from proceeding seems extraneous to the story as a whole, whereas the speaking donkey lends a comical and fantastical air to what otherwise is a sober and spiritual message.

The student of the Bible must decide how the fable and the later Biblical verses referencing Balaam fit in with the primary passages.  Were these parts added as Balaam became associated with surrounding hostile nations?  Is this a more likely explanation than more conservative, traditional views that Balaam’s allegiances changed, or that found in the OT SS Manual that Balaam’s greed for wealth and lust for honor swayed him from his determined course?

As you have studied this prophet and poet, do you concur with Bruce R. McConkie, as quoted in our manual, that “Balaam, … inspired and mighty as he once was, lost his soul in the end because he set his heart on the things of this world rather than the riches of eternity”?

______________________________________________________________________

[1] Look up the symbolism of the Hebrew number seven!

[2] Hebrew poetry doesn’t use rhyme, but uses other techniques readily recognizable as poetry, such as parallelism. Here I have used meter and rhyme to render the Hebrew poetry into English.

[3] In 1967 an ancient Aramaic text was found in Deir Alla, Jordan, dating to the time of the Biblical Balaam. The text begins with the title “Warnings from the Book of Balaam the son of Beor. He was a seer of the gods.” Much of the document describes curses uttered by this prophet.

[4] The Hebrew word “nachash” is used as an adjective (bright, brazen) and as a noun (serpent, hiss, enchantment) I also like to think of the “nachash” in the Garden of Eden as a wordplay using all the meanings in the semantic range of this word: an enchanter, deceiver, or false god, who was shining or serpentine in appearance.

[5] see Jonathan D. Safren, “Balaam and Abraham,” in Vestus Testamentum XXXVIII, 1, 1988.

A scripture in the Doctrine & Covenants encourages us to “be anxiously engaged in a good cause, and do many things of [our] own free will, and bring to pass much righteousness.”  But I’ve noticed that there is a concept that is widespread in the LDS Church which tends to limit our engagement in good causes and even, on occasion, the righteous seeking of revelation.  This is the idea of stewardship.

When I was a young mother living in Hawaii, an elderly neighbor invited me and another ward member over to her house for lunch.  While we were there, she presented us with a proposal.  She had noticed there were many needs in our ward and in our immediate neighborhood, and she suggested that we get together on Friday mornings to pray.  She hoped that we might also be able to help with some of the needs in a tangible way, but the main focus was to be on prayer and petitioning the Lord for divine assistance.  I thought this was a great idea and was excited to be a part of it.  We did this for about a year until our family moved away.  But a damper was put on the project the first Friday morning we started, for the other woman who had been invited had declined to join us.  She told my elderly neighbor that she felt uncomfortable praying for others in our ward, since we were not part of the Relief Society Presidency, and it wasn’t our stewardship so to do.

This idea is presented in the OT SS Manual along with the story in Numbers 12.  First, let us examine the scripture passage.  Moses marries a Cushite woman, and Miriam and Aaron are perturbed.  We don’t know exactly why.  Moses’ wife Zipporah was the daughter of a Midianite, so either she had died and Moses remarried, or the Cushite woman was a second wife.  There is no evidence that the Lord had commanded the Hebrews not to marry women from other nations, as he did later when they moved into the land of Canaan.  If he gave this command earlier it may have been the reason for his siblings’ objection.  In any case, the next verse gives a clue that because of this marriage a challenge to Moses’ authority as a prophet was involved. “Hath the Lord indeed spoken only by Moses?” they asked.  ”Hath he not spoken also by us?”

The Lord HAD spoken to Miriam and Aaron in the past.  He spoke to the people through Aaron in Exodus 4:30; He spoke to Aaron in Exodus 12:1; Miriam herself spoke words inspired by God in Exodus 15:21.  But when they challenged Moses, they were reprimanded.  The Lord called all three of them together, came down in a pillar of the cloud, and rebuked Miriam and Aaron for their affront. Then he afflicted Miriam with leprosy.

<feminist rant> Why was Miriam punished and not Aaron?  Some say that she was the instigator because she was named first. But it seems clear by the use of the plural form “we” throughout the passage, that both were equally involved.  Aaron confesses “we have done foolishly, and… we have sinned.”  I find it appalling that Miriam was made to bear the sole punishment for this transgression.  One commentary explains: “Had he [Aaron] been smitten with the leprosy, his sacred character must have greatly suffered, and perhaps the priesthood itself have fallen into contempt.”    There seems to have been one ancient tradition that taught Aaron was also struck with leprosy. According to that tradition, the Torah does not explicitly mention Aaron’s punishment out of respect for the office of the high priest. Instead, Aaron’s punishment was edited out of the record but remembered nonetheless. Rabbi Yehudah warned that “Anyone who says that Aaron was also smitten with leprosy will have to give an account [in heaven]. When God has concealed the matter concerning Aaron [how dare we reveal it?]”

Our SS lesson engages the story of Miriam and Aaron by asking the question:  What are the limits to our right to receive revelation?

The LDS concept of stewardship involves the careful and responsible management of something entrusted to one’s care.  Bishops are said to have stewardship over the people in their wards, and fathers over their families.  If we have stewardship over a group of people, we may receive revelation regarding how to manage those under our care.  But we are cautioned that the revelation does not extend to those outside our sphere of influence.  The manual includes the following quotation:

• Elder James E. Faust said: “The prophets, seers, and revelators have had and still have the responsibility and privilege of receiving and declaring the word of God for the world. Individual members, parents, and leaders have the right to receive revelation for their own responsibility but have no duty nor right to declare the word of God beyond the limits of their own responsibility” (in Conference Report, Oct. 1989, 9; or Ensign, Nov. 1989, 8).

As I read the manual, I wondered if the story of Miriam and Aaron really had much to do with the modern concept of stewardship.  Do you think it is a stretch to equate Miriam and Aaron’s questioning of Moses’ authority with members’ right to “declare the word of God?”  Do you think this might discourage members without leadership callings to “be anxiously engaged in a good cause,” and “bring to pass much righteousness?”

Sometimes I have a hard time with the Jehovah of the Old Testament. I’m not always sure how much of the anger, retribution, and striking people dead for their sins came from Him, or from the interpretation of His will by the designated prophet.

Take the Golden Calf story in Exodus 32, covered in SS Lesson #14. When Moses came down from Mt. Sinai with the stone tablets in his hands and saw the people singing, dancing, and playing, he had a big fit. He threw the tablets down on the ground and broke them. He burnt the golden calf they had made and killed three thousand men. According to Joseph Smith, there went the ancient Hebrews’ chance to have the ordinances of the Melchizedek Priesthood!

I wonder what would have happened if Moses had been a little less vindictive on God’s behalf. I attempt to explore this scenario in the following poem:

Your Golden Calf — And Mine

With justice stern,
No Moses, I –
Descending from Mt. Sinai to decimate your golden calf.
I’m not a prophet, sir, I laugh!
But… tell me of your God, instead,
This gold you’ve shaped,
Your wine and bread.
How have you built it?
What appeals to you?
What myst’ries it reveals?
Perhaps I’ll tell you of my climb up Sinai,
How I saw divine phalanges shining in the sun,
The glory of an Holy One.
In safe discourse you’ll have me see
The glorious opportunity your idol sends,
To sing, to dance!
While I, thus taught, have equal chance.
This fraternal state we’re in tells you licentiousness and sin
Is not the best way (generally) to show
Religious ecstasy.
Unveiled: my God, an image too –
A mirror of my heart,
A true reflection of the judgment there.
If we’ll but fall in prostrate prayer,
Each others’ hearts will bleed to view –
The sacred within me and you.

Do you think it was necessary for the Old Testament Jehovah to strike so many people dead for their sins? The idolaters, the disobedient, the complainers, even the people who dwelt in the land of Canaan before the Israelites? Why was it important then, and why doesn’t God kill the covenant people who are disobedient today? How much of the violence of the Old Testament came from God, and how much can be attributed to the excesses of people who were acting in His name? Did Moses shape a “golden calf” too?

At a Passover Seder this week, President Barack Obama’s message to American Jews focused on social justice. Obama said that the message of the Exodus teaches of oppression to be fought and freedom to be won, and that we all have a responsibility to fight against suffering and discrimination wherever we find it. Some Jewish journalists discussing the remarks saw them as a veiled reprimand against Israeli settlements in Palestinian territory. Others heartily agreed that Jews should be particularly sensitive to oppression. The American Prospect’s Adam Serwer enthused:

“I’ve viewed Passover as an opportunity not just to reflect on the historical oppression of my own people but on the suffering of others in the present day… Passover doesn’t exist merely for Jews to congratulate ourselves on our continued existence — although that is no mean feat. The reminder that we were once slaves in Egypt is meant to make us consider contemporary questions of justice… If you’re unable to take away from Passover an understanding of your own role as a Jew in fighting the injustice done to other people who do not also happen to be Jewish, the experience is meaningless.”

It could be that the symbolic elements of the Jewish Passover are more meaningful to Mormons than to any religious group outside the Jews themselves.  We recognize the emblems of the Seder to be representative of the Messiah who came in the incarnation of Jesus Christ.  The lesson material includes several connections between descriptions of the Passover in the Old Testament and Jesus Christ.  It was during a Passover seder that Jesus proclaimed that the meal represented Himself and that He was instituting the New Covenant, which is celebrated by Christians in the form of the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper.  Elder Jeffrey R. Holland admonished Latter-day Saints to view this sacrament as our passover, remembrance of our safety and deliverance and redemption.

In addition, Mormons experienced their own Exodus when they were led out of the boundaries of the United States by their “American Moses,” Brigham Young.  Leonard J. Arrington subtitled his biography of Young “American Moses,” explaining:

“Brigham was the same sort of a leader as Moses in serving people for a long period of time, in achieving their goal of entering into a kingdom blessed by God… Brigham was something for us that Moses was for the people of Israel. He led his people figuratively and quite literally, and they survived because of that leadership and their faith.

I do think the epic stories which identify the early Mormons and the children of Israel as a people persecuted for their religious convictions are meaningful. Obama’s exhortation to use this as a motivator to fight injustice rings true to my “Latter-day Israelite” heart. And this is why I’ve identified so strongly with the plight of the FLDS men of the Yearning for Zion ranch in Texas who are now being sentenced for their plural marriages. I don’t expect any of the readers here at Mormon Matters to agree with me on this.  But I’m sad that the justice system is sending hard-working, religiously-motivated men to prison, depriving their young wives and children of their loving care.  I often wonder why we, with the heritage we have of being misunderstood for our unusual marital practices, are not more sympathetic to the men who have been sentenced this month. In particular, I speak of Merril Leroy Jessop, who was sentenced March 19th to a 75-year prison sentence and $10,000 fine. To me, this seems a clear case of religious discrimination and oppression. Jessop was accused of having sex with a girl who was 15 years old when he was 31 and already married. Even if you think these men are criminals who deserve to be punished and these young women are victims, the sentence is excessive.  A Wikipedia article states that the average sentence for convicted rapists was 11.8 years, while the actual time served was 5.4 years. What sets this case apart from many other similar situations? The prosecution asked the jury to send a message to a collective group of people, to make the price so high to dissuade others from doing the same. This is unconstitutional and in my eyes constitutes religious persecution.

I don’t want to go on about this particular case — it’s only one example of what I see as injustice and oppression, and there are of course many more.  But I do appreciate President Obama’s invitation to connect Exodus and the Passover story with social justice.  I thought I’d share with you what’s going through my mind during this Passover week, and what I’ll be thinking of as LDS Sunday School classes comfortably discuss Moses.

Whether dreams come from the unconscious mind or directly from God, they are valuable sources of revelation. Dreams can tell us important things about ourselves and our relationships that may remain veiled deep in the psyche if we are unskilled at interpreting the symbolic language from which they present. The great attainment of Joseph of Egypt and the message this scriptural character brings to readers of the Old Testament is the importance of developing an ability to decode symbolic dream messages and using them to integrate our conscious and subconscious knowledge.

Joseph had a huge, almost megalomaniac faith in his interpretations of dreams.  Early in his life he risked the rebuke and envy of his father and brothers to describe to them the images of the sheaves and the sun, moon, and stars bowing down to him.  Later, when interpreting the dreams of the chief butler and baker, he attributed his interpretations to God, even though he had no evidence this was so.  His own dreams seemed refuted — far from bowing to him, his brothers sold him into Egypt and he had been cast into prison.  His confidence reminds me of Joseph Smith’s great intrepidity regarding his own visions:

“For I had seen a vision; I knew it and I knew that God knew it, and I could not deny it…”

Joseph Smith once said, after reading Foxe’s Book of the Martyrs, that he had “seen those martyrs, and they were honest, devoted followers of Christ, according to the light they possessed, and they will be saved”  He also saw in vision marchers in Zion’s Camp who had perished from cholera in Clay County, Missouri. He encouraged the survivors of that endeavor, saying, “Brethren, I have seen those men who died of the cholera in our camp; and the Lord knows, if I get a mansion as bright as theirs, I ask no more” .  He foresaw the struggles of the Saints in crossing the plains, their establishment in the Rocky Mountains, and the future condition of the Saints.  Of these and many other spiritual manifestations he remarked, “It is my meditation all the day & more than my meat & drink to know how I shall make the saints of God to comprehend the visions that roll like an overflowing surge, before my mind.”

Joseph of Egypt had this same certainty regarding communications from God through the medium of dreams.  When finally brought before Pharoah, he reiterated his assertion that certain dreams are communications from the Divine:

“And for that the dream was doubled unto Pharoah twice; it is because the thing is established by God, and God will shortly bring it to pass.”

This assurance seems incredible when taken into account that his own early dream had also been repeated twice but not yet brought to pass.

Today we have varying degrees of confidence in the interpretation of our own spiritual experiences.  Some are unimpressed by the fleeting images that pass through their minds in a somnolent state.  But others become adept at the language of symbolism.  They confidently assign meanings to everything from dreams to emotional impressions, and use these to order their actions and their lives.  Psychologists have noted that people tend to dream in images that are familiar to them in their culture.  For example, Native Americans may dream about the spirits of animals and the world of nature, Catholics envision the Virgin Mary, Mormons have visitations involving the temple and their dead ancestors.  This can facilitate dream interpretation, but it can also obscure it, because the images are so familiar that we don’t look deeply at the meaning behind the symbol.  In our modern world, we have emphasized the logical mind so much that we have lost the sensitivity to understand primal and pictoral forms and symbols, even those with which we are well-versed.

Often our lesson manuals apply the scriptural stories to the modern audience, as was done in Lesson 11.  Here Joseph’s rejection of Potiphar’s wife is presented as an example for the righteous member to follow in avoiding moral transgression.  I am curious why, in Lesson 12, although Joseph’s dreams play a prominent part in the lesson material, the class member is not encouraged to become more adept in interpreting dreams and visions or even to pay closer attention to unconscious symbolic messages.  Moving away from the esoteric, the manual broadly associates the scriptural passage in Genesis 40-41 with “talents,” and asks:

How can we give proper acknowledgment to the Lord for our talents and gifts? (We can use them to glorify God and bless others, not for our own glory.)

In the early days of the Church Joseph Smith reprimanded some of the members for using messages from their dreams and visions improperly.  Do we fear this will happen if we freely encourage the widespread scrutiny of these types of unconscious messages?  What does this tell us about our confidence in recognizing inspiration from the Divine?

Lesson 11 in the Old Testament manual employs several stories from Genesis 34-39 to develop the theme of sexual morality. Joseph’s actions embody the “Lord’s standards” for morality and are contrasted with the actions of Shechem, Reuben, and Judah. You may notice that the featured characters in the lesson are all male. What shall a woman do with a lesson like this? I think the idea is for women to identify with Joseph — to be virtuous when facing temptation. But Joseph is a man, his responses are male-oriented, and intentionally or not this approach will tend to render the women in your Sunday School classroom invisible.  Consideration of the female archetypes found within these chapters may yield some surprising insights.

As feminists might point out, a patriarchal “virgin/whore” stereotype divides and traps women on one side or the other.  Yet this is how our lesson is developed with regard to the female characters.  Joseph’s encounter with the wife of Potiphar introduces us to “The Whore.”  This nameless woman casts her eyes upon Joseph, and day after day entreats him to lie with her.  In a final, dramatic scene, she grabs his clothing and tears it from his body as he pulls away from her and runs off.  Then she lies and accuses him of trying to rape her.

In the next scriptural passage the lesson covers, we meet Dinah, “The Virgin.”  As with most archetypal women figures, Dinah is shadowed and one-dimensional.  She is described as a daughter and a sister to be protected and avenged by her father and brothers. She is “defiled” by Shechem, a young man of highborn status from a neighboring town.  We are not told how she feels about this lover, whose “soul clave unto [her]” and who desired to marry her.  The lesson material tells us that Shechem did not truly love Dinah, or else he would not have defiled her.  However, Genesis 34 describes his offer to pay any amount for a dowry, and his willingness to join with her people, submit to circumcision, and convince all of the men in his town to do the same. In my eyes he is a tragic and romantic figure.  I wish there was more information available about Dinah’s response to this man. But the lack of detail is necessary to preserve the asexual, archetypal element of the deflowered virgin in the story.

Perhaps it is an unconscious arrangement for the writers of this lesson to have placed these two bilateral female archetypes side by side in the lesson material, but if so, it is all the more significant.  Archetypes are elementary ideas stemming from the unconscious.  The danger in including only these two women in the lesson is that they are both powerless.  Dinah the virgin is a victim of a powerful male, and Mrs. Potiphar the whore is also rendered powerless by the virtuous Joseph who rejects her advances.  Males in the stories are shown as individuals with the ability and strength to choose and control their sexual and moral options.

One might feel constrained by the material on women available in the scriptures, however, there exists within these passages a third woman who might prove to be a foil to our figurative virgin and whore.  Let us examine the lessons taught by the actions of Tamar in Genesis 38.  Tamar is conspicuously left out of the lesson manual, though this chapter is included as part of the scripture block. Judah’s actions are briefly contrasted with the faithfulness of Joseph.  Going back to the scripture passage, we read that Judah chose Tamar to be the wife of his eldest son, Er.  When Er died, custom dictated that the next son, Onan would marry her and provide her with children.  Onan’s refusal to properly execute his responsibility resulted in his death, and the next son, Shelah, was not old enough to marry.  Judah told Tamar to go and live with her parents until Shelah was grown, and then promptly forgot or ignored the family’s responsibilities to the widow.  Several years later, Tamar conceived a plan to remind Judah of these things.

Deuteronomy 25: 5-10 shows that the law was on her side, and Tamar could have reported Judah to the authorities, legally loosened Judah’s shoe, and spit in his face.  But she was smarter than that.  In contrast to the other women acknowledged in the lesson, Tamar deliberately used her sexuality to affect her destiny.  Despite the fact that she lived in a culture where women had little power or choice over their own circumstances, she seized her opportunities and was rewarded for so doing.  If we reduce this gospel lesson down to following or not following a strict standard of sexual morality, we miss the potent, powerful, and purposeful choice of Tamar to initiate sex with her father-in-law.  This choice is presented in the scriptures as a faithful action.  The nuance and meaning of the word “righteous” as Judah uses it to describe Tamar is very significant in understanding whether her actions were justified. The Hebrew word used is tsadaq, “to be just or righteous.” This word and its derivatives are used hundreds of times throughout the Old Testament. It is used to describe the righteousness of Noah (Gen. 7:1), the Law (Deu. 4:8), David (1 Sam. 24:17), and even Jehovah (2 Chr. 12:6). The meaning is thus: correct, right before God, or justified, in a very strong sense of the word righteous. Tamar was a woman of integrity who struck out in a creative though unorthodox way to fulfill her duty to herself and her family.  Her exploit resulted in twin sons, one of whom would continue the chosen lineage and become the progenitor of the Messiah.  Tamar is a complex human being and one of the few women in the scriptural record who is described in such a rich and nuanced manner.

What is more, the story of Tamar can be nicely dovetailed with a secondary message of Lesson 11, that class members “learn how to make all experiences and circumstances work together for their good.”  Surely Tamar deserves a prominent place in Lesson 11, wherever female members form part of the class population!  Don’t you agree?

Though it’s only an “additional teaching idea” in Lesson 12, Jacob’s ladder has captured my imagination due to some conversations I’ve recently had with Christian evangelicals.

The theme of the ladder to heaven is often used by the Early Church Fathers. Their interpretations of Jacob’s symbolic dream in Genesis 28 are similar to those made by Mormon General Authorities. In the 2nd century, Saint Irenaeus described the Christian Church as the ladder of ascent to God. In the 3rd century Origen explained that there are two ladders in the Christian life; one of which is the ladder that the soul climbs on the earth increasing the virtues. In the 4th century Saint Gregory of Nazianzus spoke of ascending Jacob’s Ladder by successive steps towards excellence, interpreting thus the ladder as an ascetic path, while Saint Gregory of Nyssa wrote that Moses climbed on Jacob’s Ladder to reach the heavens where he entered the tabernacle not made with hands, thus giving to the Ladder a clear mystical meaning. The ascetic interpretation is found also in Saint John Chrysostom who wrote:

“And so mounting as it were by steps, let us get to heaven by a Jacob’s ladder. For the ladder seems to me to signify in a riddle by that vision the gradual ascent by means of virtue, by which it is possible for us to ascend from earth to heaven, not using material steps, but improvement and correction of manners.”

The account of Jacob’s Ladder as an analogy for the spiritual ascetic of life is again found in the classical work Ladder of Divine Ascent by St. John Climacus. The ladder in Jacob’s dream represented a symbolic journey where each of the rungs suggest the steps needed to move upward. Man must climb up one level at a time as he participates in the saving principles and ordinances of the gospel offered by the Lord, who stands at the top. Notice how similar this description is to the quote by Marion G. Romney found in our lesson:

“Jacob realized that the covenants he made with the Lord … were the rungs on the ladder that he himself would have to climb in order to obtain the promised blessings—blessings that would entitle him to enter heaven and associate with the Lord” (“Temples—The Gates to Heaven,” Ensign, Mar. 1971, 16).

***
Later Christian interpretation of Jacob’s ladder is quite different than the early Church fathers, and demonstrates the dichotomy of thought between evangelicals and Mormons on the faith and works issue. In this exegesis, Jesus is seen as being the reality to which the ladder points in that he bridges the gap between heaven and earth. According to Martin Luther, Jacob’s vision of the ladder represented the incarnation of Christ. In the Gospel of John 1:51 there is a clear reference to Jacob’s dream pointing towards Jesus Christ, referred to by his title of the Son of Man:

And he saith unto him, Verily, verily, I say unto you, Hereafter ye shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of man.

Adam Clarke, an early 19th century Methodist theologian and Bible scholar, elaborated upon this verse:

“That by the angels of God ascending and descending, is to be understood, that a perpetual intercourse should now be opened between heaven and earth, through the medium of Christ, who was God manifested in the flesh. Our blessed Lord is represented in his mediatorial capacity as the ambassador of God to men; and the angels ascending and descending upon the Son of Man, is a metaphor taken from the custom of dispatching couriers or messengers from the prince to his ambassador in a foreign court, and from the ambassador back to the prince.”

In this one Biblical symbol we find differing schools of thought over the issue of salvation: One group views the ladder as a way to reach heaven based on their own actions of improvement and obedience to covenants and ordinances. The other group has access to heaven based on the provisions of God through the Mediator, Jesus Christ, who came to earth and became that ladder or stairway for the sinner to reconnect the relationship with God.

In pondering this issue in the past, I have lamented that such a rift exists between our two faith traditions. It often seems to me that we are closer than we think, and that grace and works are both important. Mormons, I explain, emphasize works so much because we fear that if we don’t, the sinner might lapse into laziness or indifference. Christians emphasize the grace aspect of the equation so that no one will mistakenly trust in legalism rather than the Savior for their salvation. Isn’t the truth a balance between Paul and James? However, the evangelicals have labored hard to convince me that salvation must be accepted upon grace alone. Lately I’ve been pondering why I am reluctant to join them in their assurance. I’ve accepted Christ as my Savior, and it certainly would be a lot easier not to worry so much about whether I was paying my tithing, going to the temple regularly, or doing my visiting teaching. But here’s what holds me back: if Jesus offers me the grace they describe, then I’ll be OK whether I’m doing my works or not. But if the Mormon view turns out to be the more accurate description of the will of God for us, I need to be trying my hardest to do all of those works which are in my power.

Am I living my life based on fear rather than faith? Maybe. Will it count against me in the end?  I don’t see how it could.

What’s your take on Jacob’s ladder? Do we walk up, or does God descend to meet us where we are? Can this scriptural metaphor be of any help to us in our faith journey?

Although I agree with Elder Oak in principle, I suspect that some of the decisions that I make will be of this more negative order.  Moreover, these will most probably be the more painful of the two types.  Lets consider the possible impact in Abraham and Sarai’s lives (and these might be possible questions to raise in SS if you can get them to cover this episode):

• How did Sarai feel about Abraham’s choice?
• How did Abraham feel about his choice, especially as he became wealthy as a result of such an act?
• Did they tell Isaac?
• Could Sarai have refused and how did Abraham feel about her not refusing?

Now if Nibley were here he might argue that this is merely a devilish trick to make us choose between two equally evil propositions (which is worse crack or heroine), but there is always a third choice.   If this is true then what was Abraham’s other choice?

Finally, is there any possible spiritual benefit in such choices?  Can any good come from them?

To my mind I feel that my life is a constant series of these types of choices and thus I am constantly given the choice between conflicting options that inevitably will lead to some negativity.  Perhaps I am just a half-empty kinda guy but I feel for Abraham.

My questions then are these:

Are there situations where there are only choices which are bad, worse and worst? Or can we always escape such decisions?

If so, is this possible a spiritually useful situation or do we just have to move through such experiences seeking forgiveness where we can?

This story is so very, very familiar to us that I think it’s important to look at it with a fresh perspective.  So in this post I am including some pieces from media and the arts that force us to think about Genesis 22.  I promise you in advance that some of these might be disturbing to you.  Probably you will disagree with the portrayal of Abraham’s sacrifice in at least one, if not all, of these pieces.  I hope you will share your reactions in the comments.

One of my favorite poems juxtaposes the story of Abraham with World War I.  The poet, Wilfred Owen, is a tragic figure himself, who was gunned down at age 25 just seven days before the Armistice on November 4, 1918.  This poem invites the reader to consider the effects of extreme religious devotion.

The Parable of the Young Man and the Old
Wilfred Owen

So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went,
And took the fire with him, and a knife.
And as they sojourned, both of them together,
Isaac the first-born spake, and said, My Father,
Behold the preparations, fire and iron,
But where the lamb for this burnt-offering?
Then Abram bound the youth with belts and straps,
And builded parapets the trenches there,
And stretched forth the knife to slay his son.
When lo! an angel called him out of heaven,
Saying, Lay not thy hand upon the lad,
Neither do anything to him. Behold,
A ram, caught in a thicket by its horns;
Offer the Ram of Pride instead of him.
But the old man would not so, but slew his son,
And half the seed of Europe, one by one.

The next bit of media comes from the BBC’s That Mitchell and Webb Look. The parody pokes fun at believers whose religion keeps them from thinking for themselves:

The image below is an etching entitled The Sacrifice of Abraham by Marc Chagall.   The same study was done as a watercolor, as an oil painting, and as a drawing in pastel and China ink.  Each has symbolic features which are not present in the others.  A review of the etching describes it as follows:

“…the sacrifice of Abraham presents human drama as confrontation of two wills and two freedoms: that of the creator and his creature. Chagall’s rendering of this scene is of great subtlety. Using a mirror effect between the figures of Isaac and the angel, between Abraham’s posture and that of the heavenly messenger, he suggests complementarity and ultimate unity between heaven and earth. In the end, there will be no opposition between the faithful Abraham and his God, because there exists a perfect match between human obedience and divine mercy. The bound and naked Isaac is a symbol of extreme vulnerability and suggests acute sensitivity to the word of God. God answers in kind, rushing his angel in sudden descent to arrest the movement of Abraham’s knife. Thus, although bathed in an atmosphere of frightening proportions, the pictorial narrative speaks of two worlds reconciled by tender love. The latter, tender love, finds its artistic expression in the tiny white ram emerging from the thicket on the left. Too tiny for the giant knife, the ram is a reminder that God does not want sacrifices but love.”

Does this type of yielding and vulnerable submission make you  more comfortable than the more fanatic type? Why or why not?

Now let’s explore what would happen if Abraham did decide to think for himself — to take a critical look at what God was asking him to do. What if that were God’s purpose behind the lesson, after all? This short story comes from the Fob Bible, which I own and I highly recommend. It is called “Abraham’s Purgatory,” and was written by Ben Christensen.

Abraham’s Purgatory (click to read)

I included the lithograph below by Salvador Dali because I think it is interesting how the Abraham and Isaac figures are so small and how the focus of the work is the angel. It dominates the picture and brings to mind the sacred nature of the sacrificial story. Dali’s angel is not an insipid, white robed choir boy. We see the figure from the back and it is both awe-inspiring, unknowable, and a bit frightening.

Abraham, Abraham! by Salvador Dali

As you watch the following comedic sketch, ask yourself the question: “Is it easier to do something God asks if you want to do it anyway?” How much personal interpretation comes into play when we are deciphering God’s will?

Jewish Midrash suggests that it was difficult to dissuade Abraham from the act of sacrificial violence once he had decided to kill his son. The Midrash reads: “…and he said: Lay not thy hand upon the lad. Where was the knife? Tears had fallen from the angels upon it and dissolved it.” It was the tears of the angels, not those of Abraham that dissolved the knife. Yet, even after seeing the knife dissolve, Abraham is unconvinced and persists with the violence. “’Then I will strangle him,’ said he [Abraham] to Him. ‘Lay not thy hand upon the lad,’ was the reply. ‘Let us bring forth a drop of blood from him,’ he pleaded.” Abraham refuses to be deterred. His unaffected and immediate suggestion of an alternative method of sacrifice is shocking. Some may consider this to be steadfast piety, but the violent undertone stands in stark contrast with the Midrashim that emphasize piety over violence. After that method is refused, he then pleads if he may bring forth a drop of blood from his son. The use of the word “pleads” would lead one to assume that Abraham’s plea to G-d was an emotional one. The emotion, it seems, stems more so from an inability to sacrifice his son than from G-d’s request that the sacrifice be made.

The sculpture below by Berruguete is included for its portrayal of the human emotion on the faces of Abraham and Isaac. You will probably hear in your Sunday School lesson the idea that Isaac was a youth in his prime at the time of the sacrifice, while Abraham was an old man. This interpretation promotes the idea that Isaac was a willing participant in the act of submission to God. The sculpture visually portrays this idea, picturing Isaac as a strong and virile young man, capable of wresting himself free from his bonds. Though horrified and frightened, he is kneeling and complaisant.

The final piece of media I would like to include for your consideration is a biblical canticle written by Benjamin Britten. During this two-person opera, one singer assumes the role of Abraham while the other takes that of Isaac. Through the homophony of the two singers, God’s voice emerges as if it were a third solo singer. The use of the older tenor and the younger alto voices in the vignette below to sing the words of God is very moving.

GOD: Abraham, my servant, Abraham,
Take Isaac, thy son by name,
That thou lovest the best of all,
And in sacrifice offer him to me
Upon that hill there beside thee.

Abraham, I will that so it be,
For aught that may befall.

As they sing “Abraham,” the notes are first discordant, then resolve, aptly representing the theme of the story.

Abraham and Isaac by Benjamin Britten

The story of Abraham and Isaac is a powerful one. It is the most dramatic moment in the life of one of the most important of the Biblical prophets. I think that its inclusion in the Bible is meant to be disturbing and to evoke turmoil and discomfort. I hope that the Sunday School portrayal of this section of the scriptural record will not be too soft and fluffy.

“The Genesis passage is very clear, that the sin of Sodom that brought on the destruction of the city was indeed linked to homosexuality.” (R. Albert Mohler Jr., president of the Southern Baptist Seminary)

“Saying that the last recorded acts of the Sodomites — the demands for same-gender sex — are proof that they were destroyed for homosexuality is like saying that a condemned man cursing his guards on the way to his execution is being executed for cursing the guards. Sodom was judged worthy of destruction before the incident with Lot and the angels.” (Inge Anderson, “Sins of Sodom“)

One of the prominent themes in this week’s Sunday School lesson is the story of Lot and the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. But in Christian thought there has been some controversy over how closely the story should be linked to homosexuality, as the quotes above indicate. There are several points that are up for grabs, and I’m not sure either side has a complete understanding yet. Read on, and let me know what you think!

The background of the story should be taken into account as we try to figure out what is happening. In Genesis 18, three angelic messengers visit Abraham to prophesy about the birth of his son and to warn of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. This is the part where Abraham shows his compassion by bargaining with the Lord for a stay of execution if there are 10 righteous people to be found in the city. The narrative shows that the destruction has already been decreed, even before Lot’s experience with the men of Sodom.

Next, the angels enter the city. That Lot meets them at the gate is significant. Though a resident alien, Lot is taking a turn guarding the walls. Sodom has been at war, and not surprisingly the inhabitants of the city are wary of visitors. The very night a non-native of the city is trusted to watch the gate (thus controlling traffic in and out), he lets two people that nobody knows into the city and what’s more behind closed doors for the night in his house! Certainly this raised some eyebrows and caused some suspicion. Soon the residents of Sodom — all the people, both young and old — have gathered outside of Lot’s house and are demanding that Lot bring the visitors out “that we may know them.”

The meaning of the Hebrew word yada’ (to know) has engendered much of the controversy behind this story. The word has a euphemistic meaning (to engage in coitus). Of 943 times yada’ is used in the Old Testament, only ten times is it used with a sexual connotation, and all of these are heterosexual coitus. Thus some have conjectured that the townspeople were merely asking to know the credentials and intentions of strangers in their city. On the other hand, when yada’ is used with a sexual meaning, a large number of those references occur within the book of Genesis. In fact, the word is used in a clearly euphemistic sense in Genesis 19:8, just three verses after the reference in question.

The absolute sacredness of a guest was a principle well known in the Middle East. Lot wanted to protect his guests, and he refused to hand them over to the crowd. When the crowd insisted, he offered his two daughters as the most expedient diversion for a hostile situation. In the Joseph Smith Translation of these verses, it is suggested that Lot did not offer his daughters, but that the Sodomites demanded the girls as well as the visiting angels. But there is another story in the Bible which parallels the Genesis story. It is found in Judges 19:13-27. In this account, the house guest was a man, not an angel, and the master of the house offered his daughter and the man’s concubine to the mob. They accepted the concubine woman in place of the man, and raped her until she died. The city was destroyed — for heterosexual rape and violation of the law of hospitality. In spite of this very similar destruction of a city, no one condemns heterosexuality on the basis of this passage, but rather there is condemnation of rape.

This may indicate that the story of Sodom in Genesis has little to do with homosexuality and more to do with rampant, violent sex as well as irreverent attitudes regarding sex. Sodom’s primary sin was violence. The threat against the messengers and Lot’s daughters is a threat of sexual violence in which sexual orientation is irrelevant. The behavior of the people of Sodom wasn’t about attraction. It was about harming people as profoundly as they could. One might conclude that gang raping some guys is a pretty serious sin, no matter how you look at it. Making the sudden leap to compare them to committed monogomous gay couples, however, is outrageous and unfounded. There is no real similarity, and indeed, our modern Western view of “sexual orientation” did not exist in ancient Biblical times.

Another method of uncovering the meaning of the lesson of Sodom is by looking at how other Biblical passages interpret the story. Throughout the Old Testament, Sodom is held up as a lesson in wickedness that deserves utter destruction for reasons other than homosexual acts. Of the eighteen passages outside of the story itself found in Old Testament writings none refer to same sex activity, and only one alludes to sexual immorality (namely, adultery). To cite a few examples of those found among the words of the Hebrew prophets, Isaiah (1:1-17; 13:1-22) refers to Sodom and Gomorrah to condemn general evil and injustice; Jeremiah (23:9-15), to general moral and ethical laxity. Ezekiel (16:46-56) and Amos (chapter 4) condemn the kingdoms of Judah and Israel, more specifically, for neglecting the poor and needy.

“Behold, this was the iniquity of thy sister Sodom, pride, fulness of bread, and abundance of idleness was in her and in her daughters, neither did she strengthen the hand of the poor and needy. And they were haughty, and committed abomination before me”

The Deuterocanonical books identify the sin as pride and inhospitality; in Wisdom 19:13-14, we read “…whereas the men of Sodom received not the strangers when they came among them.” In Ecclesiasticus 16:8 the sin is recognized as pride. In the New Testament, too, there is reference to Sodom’s sins: In Matthew 10:14-15 and Luke 10:10-13, Jesus implied that the sin of the people of Sodom was to be inhospitable and to reject the words of the gospel messengers.

It’s not until the very late books of 2 Peter 2 and Jude 6, that “sexual immorality” and “depraved lusts” are considered sins of Sodom. In 2 Peter especially, the author seems to be drawing a comparison between “the sons of God” who came down to earth and mated with “the daughters of men” (see Lesson 6), and the men of Sodom who attempted to do sexual violence to the divine visitors whom Lot invited into his home. The comparison is that there was an unnatural mating, or attempt at a violent sexual act, between a divine being and a human being. The first acts lead ultimately to destruction by a flood, the second attempted act to destruction by fire.

A final consideration for the Latter-day Saint might be the words of modern Prophets and Apostles upon the matter. I will only include a few quotations here, but they are enough to demonstrate that there is a lack of consensus upon why the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed, and whether or not it had to do with homosexuality. Joseph Smith preached:

“In consequence of rejecting the Gospel of Jesus Christ and the Prophets whom God hath sent, the judgments of God have rested upon people, cities, and nations, in various ages of the world, which was the case with the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, that were destroyed for rejecting the Prophets.” Teachings of the Presidents of the Church: Joseph Smith, 192–205. From a discourse given by Joseph Smith in Nauvoo on Jan. 22, 1843.)

In contrast, Spencer W. Kimball unequivocally equated the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah with homosexuality:

“We hear more and more each day about the sins of adultery, homosexuality, and lesbianism. Homosexuality is an ugly sin, but because of its prevalence, the need to warn the uninitiated, and the desire to help those who may already be involved with it, it must be brought into the open. It is the sin of the ages. It was present in Israel’s wandering as well as after and before. It was tolerated by the Greeks. It was prevalent in decaying Rome. The ancient cities of Sodom and Gomorrah are symbols of wretched wickedness more especially related to this perversion, as the incident of Lot’s visitors indicates. (Spencer W. Kimball,The Foundations of Righteousness,” Ensign, Nov 1977, 4)

Ezra Taft Benson taught that pride was the sin which caused the city of Sodom to be destroyed:

“The scriptures abound with evidences of the severe consequences of the sin of pride to individuals, groups, cities, and nations. ‘Pride goeth before destruction.’ It destroyed the Nephite nation and the city of Sodom.” (Ezra Taft Benson, Beware of Pride,” Ensign, May 1989, 4.)

More in line with Ezekiel, Neal A. Maxwell considered Sodom’s sin to be neglect of the poor and needy:

“When love waxes cold, let the poor and the needy beware too, for they will be neglected, as happened in ancient Sodom.” (Neal A. Maxwell, Repent of [Our] Selfishness’ (D&amp;C 56:8), Ensign, May 1999, 23)

Perhaps in this post I have taken the long way around to show that, while I don’t think that homosexual orientation can be blamed for the destruction of Sodom and the cities of the plain, there are several valid interpretations of this passage. Additionally, there are many questions we don’t have good answers for. Why did Lot offer his daughters in place of the heavenly visitors, and why was he not condemned for this action? Of the entire city of Sodom, were there not children under 8 years old, and possibly others who were innocently killed in the destruction? Is it possible to connect the several sexual relationships which seem to run through the scripture block comprising Genesis 18-19? What are the symbolic meanings of the characters and actions? The story is so ambiguous that perhaps every reader comes away with a different perception of the lesson to be taught. I have illustrated that point by including below some art work, each with its own unique depiction of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah.

The Destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, c. 1320

Albrecht Dürer
Lot and His Daughters

Marc Chagall
Abraham Approaching Sodom with Three Angels

Giusto de Menabuoi
Sodom and Gomorrah

Julius Schnoor von Carolsfeld
Lot flees Sodom

Rembrandt van Rijn
Lot and His Family Leaving Sodom

Gustave Doré
Lot flees Sodom

Henry O. Tanner
Sodom and Gomorrah

Alessandro Bavari
The City of Sodom