By Chris Henrichsen
I write about social justice, mostly the theory of justice presented by the late philosopher John Rawls. I am not looking to add anything new today. But considering the recent comments by Brother Beck, I want to point out some of the things which I, a Mormon, has had to say about social justice.
I have written about the moral justification of liberal justice in two posts (here and a much updated version here).
I have looked at the economic and social implications both here at FPR and at this post on BCC. These are both central to what I view as social justice. I also introduce John Rawls and my Mormon Rawls Project at this post.
My sense of justice influences everything, from my view of nationalism and patriotism, to the way in which I analyze church policies about caring for the poor.
These views are mine. I do not claim that they represent the views of the Church or that they are the only possible interpretation of certain scripture. However, my Mormonism and my sense of justice are one and the same for me. It might be a different perspective, but it is mine
Oh, I forgot about the podcast on global social justice.
By Chris Henrichsen
WhatisGlobalJusticemp3
This podcast was made by two of my students, Jericho Cline and Ethan Blevin, during a senior seminar on global justice.
I am sharing this today because I have been thinking a lot about Ethan. He recently got into a great law school. He also just suffered a great loss in his family. He and Jericho are not only great students, but great men. I have some great former and current students.
By smallaxe
How is God infinite and embodied? Are we born in the spirit world or have our spirits existed forever? What is the nature of “intelligence”? What is eternal progression?
These are issues that LDSs have different views on. Leaders throughout the history of the Church have also expressed a variety of views in responding to these kinds of questions. The fact that 2 different LDSs can hold opposing views about these issues and both still be considered “faithful” is a primary reason that some see Mormonism as having postmodern tendencies. Read more »
By Chris Henrichsen
3 Nephi 13:
5 And when thou prayest thou shalt not do as the hypocrites, for they love to pray, standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, they have their reward.
6 But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father who is in secret; and thy Father, who seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly.
These two verses remind my wife and I of arguments for school prayer. They rarely have anything to do with humble communication with God. Instead, they are about using prayer to make a political statement.
Am I painting advocates of school prayer in an inaccurate light? Probably. Having grown up in a place with considerable religious diversity, I have never been comfortable with public religion. I am not talking about public expressions of religion, but instead public endorsements of religion. Such endorsements violate the social contract that makes it possible for a community with such pluralism to exist.
Those who use of prayer for political points will have surely have their reward.
By Chris Henrichsen
I have a box of posters, signs, t-shirts, and other junk in my office in Provo that stands as a physical reminder of what was once the College Democrats at BYU-Idaho. I was the last faculty advisor for the club and when I moved to Provo, I could not find anyone to take them.
For the first time in four years, I am not an employee of Brigham Young University-Idaho. This post, despite being about the political clubs at BYU-Idaho, is not a political post, but instead a post about BYU-Idaho. For the first time, I feel that I can freely discuss this situation. It was discussed last year both at A Soft Answer and at Millennial Star.
The College Republicans and the College Democrats are a standard feature at most college campuses. At Ricks College and then later BYU-Idaho, the College Republicans were at time a huge and active club, while the College Democrats was a much smaller, though tight, group. I have had interaction with both. I was a College Republican at Ricks before my mission. I was an exciting time. That Fall, the Republican Gingrich revolution swept both houses of the Congress. I was elected to be one of the vice-presidents for the following year, but instead decided to go on my mission rather than return for my sophomore year. When I returned from my mission, I was again elected to a leadership post…though I would no longer be a Republican by the end of the year.
I returned to Rexburg in 2006 as a visiting member of the faculty. I attended some of the meetings of the College Democrats and gave a couple of guest lectures. When the previous advisors sent out an email in late 2008 looking for volunteers to take over the responsibility, I volunteered. I was excited, the College Dems were a thoughtful group of kids who enjoyed discussing politics and policy. I actually tried to get them to be a bit more partisan. Most of all, I tried to get them to stop apologizing for being Democrats.
In March, I got wind that the University was up to something in relation to the clubs. A meeting was scheduled with the administrator over student activities. We were informed that the President’s council had decided to abolish the club be they violated the University’s neutrality policy which pretty much banned any and all political activity on campus. The neutrality policy is more of an anti-politics policy. I understand why the University would want to be viewed as neutral. Yet, this policy sought primary to keep the stain of politics off the BYU-Idaho campus. Read more »
By Chris Henrichsen
In this weeks Sunday School lesson we will be discussing Noah. I love this story. My second child is named Shem. It is one of the classics.
The class I teach is for high school juniors and seniors. We have a discussion-oriented class. They have had these stories before in seminary and elsewhere. They know the details of the scriptural narrative better than I do. As a result, we have been able to discuss applications and potential meanings of different concepts. It has gone really well (which is my way of saying that I have enjoyed the last few months).
Yet, I have a problem. I do not believe that the flood in the story of Noah covered the entire earth. I do not view this as a big deal. Whether the entire world was flooded or not is not the point of the story. I view the story as being one about obedience and separating ourselves from the world (something like that).
However, I have a few questions about how I will deal with this in my lesson.
Should I mention my interpretation of the flood?
It is not necessary for me to do so. Yet, I am planning on making some comment about it not mattering whether the flood covered the whole world or not. Here I worry that I might be doing this for my own purposes and not out of love.
Does it matter how anyone, including my students and myself, view the flood?
No. It does not really matter. Additionally, I feel no need to disabuse anyone of their view of the flood. I am not claiming that I am right and that they are wrong. I just do not think that the earth was entirely flooded. I think it is great that others think differently than I do.
What has me thinking about this is a recent Facebook interaction with a former member of the Church. He is now a proud atheist and claims to only take “scientific” approach to the world (he in fact has a high school level of the scientific method which he thinks is clever. At every chance he seeks to tear down the beliefs of the Mormon’s he knows (including his family).
While I am very secular in some senses, I cannot relate to this. While I do not view things in a particularly orthodox way, I do not mind if others do. I just hope they give me the same benefit of the doubt.
As a teacher in the Sunday School, I do hope that my students will think about these things, particularly if they have not done so in the past. However, what they think is up to them. They are a great group of kids. I hope not to do anything that messes that up.
By Secco
Rabbinic commentators have sought to better understand the nature of God by exploring the implications and origins of his name. Michael Fishbane writes in Rabbinic Myth and Mythmaking (Oxford University Press, 2003):
In the context of an explanation of why the ‘dry land’ (yabashah) is called ‘eretz (‘earth’) in Gen 1:10, we are told that the primordial earth was an obedient creation of God’s, and ceased to extend when He ’said’ so. This compliance is strikingly forumated by an exegetical play on the noun itself, since we read that ‘the dry land’ was called ‘eretz because ’she wished to do His (God’s) will’ (she-ratzta la-’asot retzono). One may suppose that our myth was one of several accounts telling how the land, sea, or sky acquired their limits — narratives that were supported by a mythic etymology of the divine name ‘El Shaddai, as meaning that God (El) is He who (she-) said dai (‘enough’) to His creations when they grew out of hand and threatened to overwhelm the world with their profusion. In the context of such tales, the letters of ‘eretz in Gen 1:10 provided welcome proof from Scripture… Read more »
By Sheldon Lawrence
I am currently reading “A Mormon Mother: The autobiography of Annie Clark Tanner.” My dissertation advisor had told me the story of Tanner’s experience with polygamy was “heartbreaking”, and indeed several moments in the text have invoked my sympathy for this remarkable woman. However, Tanner manages to convey her ordeals without indulging in self pity, and her memories never devolve into bitterness and resentment, even though such feelings would have been justified. Perhaps herein lies the power of this text: Tanner manages her difficult past with such dignity and honesty (but without didactic piety) that the reader feels he must supply the outrage on her behalf. At least that has been my experience so far. And—for those not familiar with this book—this is not a humble pioneer “my life on the prairie” diary. Tanner was an educated and eloquent woman whose combination of honesty and restraint should serve as a model to would-be present day Mormon memoirists.
Read more »
By David B.
All right, so if the JST does not restore an original, pristine, historical text from ancient Israel what it is and how can a believing Latter-day Saint make use of this interesting work?
Well, of course I don’t pretend to occupy any sort of commanding position that would justify rendering an authoritative proposal. That’s not me. So, friends, take these ideas for what they’re worth, i.e. one Junior Primary teacher’s opinion concerning the subject at hand.
Speaking personally, I have for many years viewed the JST as a type of inspired workbook, or in other words, as a literary production documenting the Prophet Joseph’s evolutionary encounters with the revelatory process. As has been well documented, many of the revelations in the D&C derive specifically from theological questions Joseph encountered while working his way through the inspired revision.
Many examples of the process could be cited, but perhaps none more interesting than D&C 132 which represents an amalgamation of three distinct questions Joseph acquired on marriage while working on the JST (see Danel W. Bachman. “New Light on an Old Hypothesis: The Ohio Origins of the Revelation on Eternal Marriage.” Journal of Mormon History 5 (1978):19-32).
Again speaking personally, as I have studied the D&C, I have felt inspired witnessing the way the Lord responded to the Prophet Joseph’s theological ponderings. Through the production of the JST, we witness the Lord leading the Prophet into a world of grand religious insights that eventually culminate in the advanced theological ideas manifested at the end of the Prophet’s ministry via the famous King Follett Sermon.
So, when all is said and done, if nothing else, for me, the JST documents the evolutionary development of the doctrines of the Restoration and the method God uses to instruct his children. Yet I maintain that there’s even more to be gained by LDS students of the JST.
Returning to a suggestion presented by G.Wesley in a previous post, we read the proposal:
“There is no place for the Inspired Version in the study of the ancient world in general, textual criticism of the Bible in particular.”
Now that’s quite the comment!
Dissecting this statement, G. Wesley makes two separate arguments:
1. There is no place for the JST in the study of the ancient world.
2. There is no place for the study of the JST in textual criticism of the Bible.
And concerning these two specific points, well, as a serious student of the Bible, I find myself in full and total agreement.
Now, It’s not my intent to focus on issues of textual criticism in this forum, but I would, however, like to suggest that even though the JST does not restore an ancient historical text and that there exists no place for the JST in the study of the ancient world, I believe that there does exist a place for the ancient world inside the JST. In other words, as students of LDS scripture, we can study the JST in light of the ancient world, and in so doing, glean some profound literary and religious insights.
At least, I believe that I have on many occasions. I’ll take the opportunity to share one example.
The Book of Moses begins with material entirely absent from the Biblical record, which directly alters the Sitz in Leben or “life setting” for the biblical stories of creation and Eden:
“The words of God, which he spake unto Moses at a time when Moses was caught up into an exceedingly high mountain” (Moses 1:1)
This concept of a mountain (an exceedingly high one no less), is really quite interesting. As locations that offer a symbolic connection between heaven and earth, mountains in antiquity traditionally provided a strong thematic link with Near Eastern temple worship. In their recent publication on Solomon’s temple via Thames & Hudson, LDS scholars William Hamblin and David Seely did in my estimate a nice job capturing the ancient connection between temple and mountain in Near Eastern thought:
“In many ancient creation stories, the earth was formed when the deity conquered chaos represented by the primeval waters and established the primordial hillock, the first portion of earth to rise from the waters. A temple was built on the primordial hillock commemorating the god’s pre-eminent role in creation and their power in defeating Chaos, legitimizing the worship of the god enshrined in the temple and the rule of his divinely appointed king.” William J. Hamblin and David Rolph Seely, Solomon’s Temple Myth and History, Thames and Hudson, 2007, 10.
So reading the ancient world into Moses 1 places the opening events of Genesis into the context of a temple revelation given to Moses on “an exceedingly high mountain.” That the Prophet Joseph explicitly believed that Moses experienced a temple theophany upon a mountain seems clear from Joseph’s Nauvoo teachings:
“I preached in the grove on the keys of the Kingdom, Charity &c The keys are certain signs and words by which false spirits and personages may be detected from true, which cannot be revealed to the Elders till the Temple is completed. The rich can only get them in the Temple—the poor may get them on the Mountain top as did Moses… No one can truly say he knows God until he has handled something, and this can only be in the Holiest of Holies.” Joseph Smith, The Words of Joseph Smith; 119 – 120.
In Moses 1, Moses appears on the exceedingly high mountain approaching the Lord through traditional veil imagery:
“And he saw God face to face, and he talked with him, and the glory of God was upon Moses; therefore Moses could endure his presence” (Moses 1:2).
In Near Eastern temple worship, the veil was a curtain hung within the temple precinct in order to protect mortal eye from the glory associated with the physical presence of deity (think Isaiah 6). Moses addresses the issue in verse 11 of the Inspired Version:
“But now mine own eyes have beheld God; but not my natural, but my spiritual eyes, for my natural eyes could not have beheld; for I should have withered and died in his presence; but his glory was upon me; and I beheld his face, for I was transfigured before him.”
So the new introduction provided via the JST transforms the way LDS readers approach the opening chapters of the Bible. Genesis is now interpreted within the context of temple worship and ritual. A brief survey of themes explored throughout the Book of Moses reveals the following list of LDS temple related motifs:
The dispensing of Satan (vv. 12-22)
A ritual depiction of the creation drama (Moses 2)
A ritual presentation of the Fall in which readers can put themselves in the place of Adam and Eve (Moses 3-4)
Ritual presentation of the Law of Sacrifice (Moses 5:1-9)
A depiction of Adam’s promise that he will enter the presence of the Lord (Moses 5:10)
Adam and Eve are identified as true messengers sent from God (Moses 5:12); angels are sent forth as true “messengers” sent to teach the Law of the Gospel.
“And thus the Gospel began to be preached, from the beginning, being declared by holy angels sent forth from the presence of God, and by his own voice, and by the gift of the Holy Ghost” (5:58)
An introduction to secret combinations that reflect true worship, yet serve as its antithesis (Moses 5:29):
“And Satan said unto Cain: Swear unto me by thy throat, and if thou tell it thou shalt die; and swear thy brethren by their heads, and by the living God, that they tell it not; for if they tell it, they shall surely die; and this that thy father may not know it; and this day I will deliver thy brother Abel into thine hands.”
A ritual vestment in which Adam appears as a divine temple working king who receives a coat of skin (Moses 4:27).
And clearly, more could be added.
So in sum, even though the JST does not restore an original historical biblical text, I believe the work does carry some significant insights for LDS readers. Not only does the JST provide a view of the revelatory process at work during the Ohio period of the Prophet’s ministry, the JST can also provide readers with interesting religious and literary insights, granted not insights into the ancient world, but rather insights into modern revelation, when the ancient world is brought to the JST as an interpretive guide.
By Secco
John Meier’s fourth volume of A Marginal Jew came out last spring, and is focused on placing the historical Jesus within the Jewish Law of his time. The title of his introductory chapter, “The Historical Jesus is the Halakic Jesus,” is an excellent summary of his thesis, and as he says later, ”The historical Jewish Jesus must be seen as a Jesus immersed in the halakic discussions, debates, and actual practice of 1st-century Palestinian Jews.” The word halaka (Hebrew for “walking,” “conduct,” “behavior,” etc.) is used to refer to a legal opinion or ruling concerning specific human conduct.
The idea of understanding Jesus better by sorting out how he fits in to the local religious context and controversies of his day is hardly new, but Maier does an excellent job. We Mormons, with our focus on conduct and behavior, in particular may have quite a bit to learn from this approach. One of my favorite observations so far comes from an illustration of one of the criteria frequently used by questers for the historical Jesus, the criterion of discontinuity. Fr. Maier writes,
To take a curious example…: when asked what is the greatest commandment, Jesus replies by citing the two commandments enjoining love of God with all one’s heart and love of neighbor as oneself (Mark 12:28-34). At first glance, the reader will perhaps be surprised to see that I invoke the criterion of discontinuity to establish the historicity of this anecdote. After all, the two commandments, taken by themselves, are simply citations of two precepts contained in the Pentateuch (Deut 6:4-5 and Lev 19:18b). True, but what is “discontinuous” is what Jesus does with these texts. He (i) cites each commandment word for word, (ii) joins the two of them back to back, (iii) ranks them explicitly as “first” and “second,” and (iv) concludes by declaring that no other commandment is greater than these two. This fourfold configuration of a double commandment of love is found nowhere else in the OT, the literature of Second Temple Judaism, the rest of the NT, or the early patristic writings. All this constitutes a glaring discontinuity of teaching that often goes unremarked.
One could consider that Jesus’ discontinuities of religious conduct were as innovative and provocative in his day as Joseph Smith’s new prescriptions for religious conduct have been in our day. Maier’s eventual summary seems to be that in the end, it is fruitful to consider Jesus’ command to love in the same sort of strict, behavioral context that laws on purity, divorce, sabbath observance, and dietary restrictions were viewed: a very concrete, observable, even measurable context.
Beyond the scholarly interest — and Maier is an engaging writer, in my view — for us such an analysis also seems to raise the question: while Mormons do an excellent job of measuring conduct on a remarkably similar set of criteria (dietary restrictions, sabbath observance, purity, etc.), do we as a community treat the commandment to love with the same rigor?
