Abstract: Readers are surely aware that the birth of the Christ child is the reason we celebrate Christmas. Members of the Church may be less aware, though, of the notable birth of a child, millennia later, of distant secondary importance.

Thick darkness gathered around me, and it seemed to me for a time as if I were doomed to sudden destruction. … [J]ust at this moment of great alarm, I saw a pillar of light exactly over my head, above the brightness of the sun, which descended gradually until it fell upon me. (Joseph Smith — History 1:15–16)

By the time anybody out there reads this, we’ll be racing from January into February 2020. However, as I write these thoughts, it’s 23 December 2019. In other words, it’s the eve of Christmas Eve.

It’s also the 214th anniversary of the birth of the prophet Joseph Smith. Already several weeks ago, some critics of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints were rolling out their annual claim that members of the Church celebrate “Smithmas” — the name that these critics have given to Joseph’s birthday and that only these same critics use — with more enthusiasm and vigor than Church members bestow upon the mainstream Christian holiday of Christmas. Allegedly, our worship services on the Sunday closest to Christmas typically focus on the Prophet, whom we really worship. Jesus, so the charge goes, is scarcely mentioned. For some, I think, “Smithmas” is just a rather bitter and not particularly funny joke. A few, though, seem to take the claim seriously — or, at least, to want others to take it seriously.

I doubt, though, that many Latter-day Saints actually know that today is Joseph Smith’s birthday or, if they do know it, that they are giving the subject a moment’s thought. Contrary to the claims of our more extreme critics, we don’t put up “Smithmas” lights, sing “Smithmas” [Page viii]carols, or recite the story of Joseph’s advent. Our chapels and homes aren’t adorned with “Smithmas” trees. They don’t feature manger scenes in which Joseph Smith Sr. and Lucy Mack Smith gaze lovingly at their son, the infant prophet.

I won’t be attending a special Joseph Smith memorial mass today. Instead, I’ll be grading final exams and student term papers and otherwise engaging in ordinary, normal activities. In fact, we generally don’t mark Joseph’s birthday at all, let alone celebrate it — and not only because it’s swallowed up in the mega-holiday that follows 48 hours later. If anything out of the ordinary happens today, it’s likely to be last-minute Christmas shopping.

I recall a conversation from decades ago with Father Georges Anawati, my beloved tutor in Islamic philosophy at the Institut dominicain d’études orientales in Cairo, Egypt. Curious about my personal religious beliefs and somewhat aware of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, he asked me whether we venerated the saints. No, I said. But surely, he continued, we pray to Joseph Smith. I replied that we did not. He paused for a moment, smiled, and then said, as if to himself, “These heresies are all so bizarre!”

However, as I’ve sat down to write this brief volume introduction, it occurs to me that perhaps a word or two about Joseph wouldn’t be out of place today. Or, for that matter, on any day.

But first, a word about his associate, Oliver Cowdery. In April 1838, charged with serious offenses, Oliver was excommunicated from the Church. By his own choice he was not present to defend himself, though he always vigorously denied wrongdoing ...