Some years ago, Hugh Nibley gave the students in his BYU honors class an unusual midterm assignment. He described that experience as follows:

“I asked them … to assume that they had been guaranteed a thousand uninterrupted years of life here on earth.”

Review of Kylie Nielson Turley, Alma 1–29: A Brief Theological Introduction (Provo, UT: The Neal A. Maxwell Institute for Religious Scholarship, 2020). 162 pages. $9.95 (paperback).

Abstract: Kylie Nielson Turley delves deep into the conversion and ministry of Alma the Younger, reading new life into a well-known narrative. By analyzing Alma’s story with the full weight of his humanity in mind, she breathes emotion into Alma’s conversion and missionary efforts. Her efforts to read Alma without a veneer of superhumanity result in a highly relatable figure who has known wickedness, repentance, loss, depression, and righteousness.

Kylie Nielson Turley accomplishes exactly what the Maxwell Institute’s Brief Theological Introductions series seeks to do — namely, to “read a few Book of Mormon stories you have probably read before and see them in a new light.”1 She achieves this through careful analysis of the life of Alma the Younger (hereafter referred to as Alma) as reported by the Book of Alma’s structural narrative. In re-analyzing familiar stories, Turley questions common (and assumed) tropes about Alma such as his age at the time of his conversion, the depths of his prior depravity, and the ramifications of personal trauma experienced during his missionary efforts. By allowing these stories the emotion all too often discarded in the standard “Sunday School answers,” Turley restores power to Alma’s [Page 250]redemptive arch and asks the reader to acknowledge the Atonement’s ability to overcome all.

The book begins by questioning the specific structure surrounding the events of Alma’s life, noticing the specificity with which dates and ages of both Alma and his father are recorded. After careful analysis, Turley concludes that Alma is far older than a wayward teenager. This provokes a poignant reflection: “Is it easier to trust an adult leader who had some youthful indiscretions (and repented) — or one who spent decades trying to destroy the church as an adult (and repented)?”2

Reading Alma as a repentant adult alters his interactions with the apostate figures he continuously faces. Turley notes, “When readers view Alma as the very wicked and idolatrous unbeliever the narrator describes, they likely interpret the text differently.”3 She goes as far as to compare characterizations of Alma to those of Amalickiah, laying out a parallel structure in descriptions that substantiate the depths of Alma’s former sinful lifestyle. And yet, Alma’s death report specifically notes, “This we know, that he was a righteous man” (Alma 45:19), demonstrating the ability of Alma’s repentance and conversion to overcome all previous sin, regardless of its severity.

Switching focus, the book discusses the trauma response of the Nephites to the destruction caused by a Lamanite attack upon the newly established Anti-Nephi-Lehis. The Nephites mourn and lament (Alma 28:4) the familial relationships lost in a battle where tens of thousands perish. In such circumstances, Turley proposes that Alma 29 is not a missionary anthem but a psalm of mourning and lament wherein Alma and the people ask “Why?”

Viewing this psalm as a trauma response to the battle and to the martyrdom of the believing women and children at Ammonihah, Turley emphasizes Alma’s ability to plead for continued hope and understanding in Christ despite the recent chaos and trauma. She says, “Questioning God about why something happens demonstrates faith that he is there and hope that he has an answer. Moreover, underlying both questions is a plea for God to make ...

Abstract: An axis mundi refers to a sacred place that connects heaven and earth and is believed to be the center of the world. These places are sanctified through ritual consecration or through a divine manifestation that results in qualitatively detaching that space from the surrounding cosmos. Often expressed in architecture as a universal pillar, these axes mundi incorporate and put in communication three cosmic levels — earth, heaven, and the underworld. As Mark Alan Wright notes, Mesoamerican sacred architecture was designed according to cosmological principles and finds a modern analogy in Latter-day Saint temples. Also, among Mesoamerican civilizations and in the Book of Mormon, the temple, the axis mundi, served as a place where worshipers go to engage in sacred rituals that bridge the divide between heaven and earth and allow the worshiper entry into the divine presence.

[Editor’s Note: Part of our book chapter reprint series, this article is reprinted here as a service to the Latter-Day Saint community. Original pagination and page numbers have necessarily changed, otherwise the reprint has the same content as the original.

See Mark Alan Wright, “Axes Mundi: Ritual Complexes in Mesoamerica and the Book of Mormon,” in Temple Insights: Proceedings of the Interpreter Matthew B. Brown Memorial Conference, “The Temple on Mount Zion,” 22 September 2012, ed. William J. Hamblin and David Rolph Seely (Orem, UT: The Interpreter Foundation; Salt Lake City: Eborn Books, 2014), [Page 234]187–202. Further information at https://interpreterfoundation.org/books/temple-insights/.]

An axis mundi is a sacred place that connects heaven and earth and is believed to be the center of the world, even the cosmos. Mircea Eliade notes that such places are made sacred either through ritual consecration or through a manifestation of the divine known as hierophany, which “results in detaching a territory from the surrounding cosmic milieu and making it qualitatively different.”1 Countless cultures, ancient and modern, use axes mundi as ideological and ritual foci. Eliade explains:

Where the break-through from plane to plane has been modified by a hierophany, there too an opening has been made, either upward (the divine world) or downward (the underworld, the world of the dead). The three cosmic levels — earth, heaven, underworld — have been put in communication … this communication is sometimes expressed through the image of a universal pillar, axis mundi, which at once connects and supports heaven and earth.2

The sacred architecture of Mesoamerica was designed according to cosmological principles, establishing specific locations within their polities as an axis mundi. Their pyramids, topped by temples, were man-made sacred mountains, representing the first mountain that rose from the primordial waters of creation. Mesoamerican scholar Julia Guernesy noted that even comparatively early Mesoamerican cities, such as Izapa, “created a dynamic environment in which primordial time and the present were seamlessly woven together, creating a veritable web of politics and cosmogenesis.”3 Concerning specific ritual loci [sacred places] established by such communities, Pamela L. Geller notes, “Fraught with liminal connotations, axes mundi mediate between past and present, natural and supernatural arenas.

Abstract: In this paper, I show that declarations of lineage in patriarchal blessings have, since the earliest days of the Restoration, evolved in terms of frequency of inclusion, which tribal lineages predominate, and understanding of the meaning of the declaration. I argue for a non- literal understanding consistent with scripture and science, but posit that these declarations have deep and important significance in connection with the gathering of Israel.

Two and a half years into my service as a Church1 patriarch, I found myself puzzled by the subject of the declaration of lineage. I embarked on a study of the matter, which in turn led to this paper. I concluded and will show that the practice of declaring lineage evolved over time. I will discuss the extent to which these declarations have contemplated a literal Abrahamic bloodline. I argue that there is a way to give respect to the concepts of literal bloodlines without connecting them to patriarchal declarations of lineage. Finally, I propose that there can be a literal gathering of Israel without concern for bloodlines.

When Did the Church Start Declaring Lineage as Part of Patriarchal Blessings, and When Did It Evolve from Common Practice to Required Element?

The practice of including a declaration of lineage in a person’s patriarchal blessing was not routine in the beginning of the Restoration. Michael H. Marquardt has collected as many as he could find of the [Page 210]blessings given between December 1833 and September of 1845.2 The charts shown in figures 1 and 2 reveal the trend.3

[Page 211]For each year from 1835 through 1846, and for 11 of the 17 years from 1847 through 1862, Marquardt’s book Later Patriarchal Blessings of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints contains some blessings for which no lineage was declared. But from 1863 through 1995, only 23 of the 471 blessings in the book fail to declare lineage.

When did a declaration of lineage become a more or less required element of a patriarchal blessing? Lacking access to the various editions of the Church’s manuals for and written instructions issued to patriarchs over the years, I have not been able to determine when (or whether) the patriarchs of this dispensation were first instructed to declare lineage, how those instructions may have changed over time, and whether they were accompanied by suggestions on how to go about it. The sixth Church Patriarch, Hyrum G. Smith, who served from 1912 to 1932, issued instructions from time to time to all stake patriarchs. In one (undated) document, he included the following as one of the duties of the patriarch: “According to the promptings of the Holy Spirit, declare the lineage of those you bless.”4 The document gives the impression this was more a reminder than a new directive.

At a 2005 training meeting for stake patriarchs and stake presidents, then Elder Dallin H. Oaks declared that “an essential part of every patriarchal blessing is the declaration of lineage.”

Abstract: We are told in the Title Page of the Book of Mormon that the Book of Mormon was revealed in our day “to show unto the remnant of the house of Israel what great things the Lord hath done for their fathers; and that they may know the covenants of the Lord, that they are not cast off forever.” Hence, the covenantal context, structure, and logic of the Book of Mormon demand further consideration, exploration, and elucidation. A prosperous starting point is the phrase “If ye keep my commandments ye shall prosper in the land.” This covenantal phrase is used throughout the Book of Mormon as a summary of the theological logic of the suzerain-vassal treaty covenant type in which God sought to secure the fidelity of his people, who would receive in exchange continued prosperity in His appointed promised lands.

One of the most commonly occurring phrases in the Book of Mormon, “If ye keep my commandments ye shall prosper in the land,” may easily be mistaken as an almost trite way of saying that it’s good to obey God. However, if the Book of Mormon is read with an understanding of ancient covenants, the meaning of the phrase takes on new light. Understanding that ancient context means not just recognizing the pervasive use of covenants and their monumental importance in the ancient Near East but also appreciating the formulas and conventions that were used to express and make covenants. The theme of prospering in the (promised) land first occurs in 1 Nephi 2:20, where the Lord speaks to Nephi: “And inasmuch as ye shall keep my commandments, ye shall prosper, and shall be led to a land of promise; yea, even a land [Page 202]which I have prepared for you; yea, a land which is choice above all other lands.” Nephi recalls those words in 1 Nephi 4:14, observing that the Lord had told him, “Inasmuch as thy seed shall keep my commandments, they shall prosper in the land of promise.” The form that may be most familiar to Book of Mormon students is first given in Lehi’s farewell speech to his family in 2 Nephi 1:20, quoting what the Lord has said: “Inasmuch as ye shall keep my commandments ye shall prosper in the land; but inasmuch as ye will not keep my commandments ye shall be cut off from my presence.”

The simple core concept in all of this is the promise “If ye will keep my commandments ye shall prosper in the land,” the wording of Alma 37:13. But why is this concept repeated over 20 times in almost every book of the Book of Mormon, with many other related exhortations? What was the purpose of this phrase or formula? I propose that this phrase is a powerful summary statement of a covenant relationship between the people and the Lord, directly related to what is now (thanks to scholarship that began long after Joseph Smith’s day) the familiar concept of the suzerain-vassal treaty,1 whose conceptual worldview and theology seem to undergird significant portions of the Book of Mormon.

Abstract: The authors begin by highlighting the importance of Book of Moses research that has discovered plausible findings for its historicity, rendering it at least reasonable to give the benefit of the doubt to sacred premises — even if, ultimately, the choice of premises is just that, a choice. Emphasizing the relevance of the Book of Moses to the temple, they note that the Book of Moses is not only an ancient temple text, but also the ideal scriptural context for a modern temple preparation course. Going further, the authors address an important question raised by some who have asked: “Since Christ is at the center of the gospel, why doesn’t the temple endowment teach the story of the life of Christ? What’s all this about Adam and Eve?” The answer given in detail in the paper is as follows: “The story of the life of Christ is the story of giving the Atonement. And the story of Adam and Eve is the story of receiving the Atonement. Their story is our story, too.”

[Editor’s Note: Part of our book chapter reprint series, this article is reprinted here as a service to the Latter-day Saint community. Original pagination and page numbers have necessarily changed, otherwise the reprint has the same content as the original.

See Bruce C. Hafen and Marie K. Hafen, “Adam, Eve, the Book of Moses, and the Temple: The Story of Receiving Christ’s Atonement,” in Tracing Ancient Threads in the Book of Moses: Inspired Origins, Temple Contexts, and Literary Qualities, edited by Jeffrey M. Bradshaw, David R. Seely, John W. Welch and Scott Gordon (Orem, UT: The Interpreter Foundation; Springville, UT: Book of Mormon Central; Redding, CA: [Page 158]FAIR; Tooele, UT: Eborn Books, 2021), page numbers forthcoming. Further information at https://interpreterfoundation.org/books/ancient-threads-in-the-book-of-moses/.]

Historicity and Plausibility of the Book of Moses

Bruce: The description for this conference states, “Because we believe that the Book of Moses includes authentic history, the possibility of evidence for that belief interests us as scholars.” In other words, the papers throughout this book have been prepared by scholars who believe in the general historicity of the Book of Moses, and their research has found evidence that supports that belief. I’d like to begin by offering some context and support for their approach.

I see clear parallels between our current interest in the historicity of the Book of Moses and what happened some years ago with research about the Book of Mormon. During the unfortunate Mark Hofmann era of the mid-1980s, the Church encountered an unusual barrage of criticism about Joseph Smith and the historicity of the Book of Mormon—that is, whether the history described there actually happened. Elder Neal A. Maxwell, then on Brigham Young University’s board of trustees, described this criticism as “a new generation of fiery salvos, including a few duds and re-used, old darts.”1

These issues prompted Elder Maxwell to galvanize the skilled and faithful scholars he knew at Brigham Young University (BYU) to “protect our flanks” rather than just “wave our arms.”2 And instead of focusing primarily on such external evidence as archaeology, he favored an approach that studied “parallels between the ancient world and the Book of Mormon,” especially parallels “drawn from texts and historical facts” discovered since 1829.

Abstract: The phrase goodness of God does occur occasionally in the Hebrew Bible but has not been considered by Old Testament scholars to be an independent principle in Israelite theology. Rather, it has been interpreted as just another way of talking about God’s acts of hesed, or loving kindness for his covenant people and is usually interpreted in the context of the covenants Israel received through Abraham and Moses. The Book of Mormon clearly echoes that Old Testament pattern but also presents two additional conceptual frameworks that are explained in terms of the goodness of God. It advances an explicit divine plan of redemption or salvation that existed before Abraham — even before the creation of the earth — which had as its purpose making eternal life possible for God’s human children universally — not just the descendants of Abraham. And it also teaches the gospel or doctrine of Christ that provides the path individuals must walk to take full advantage of that plan — as they become good like God and qualify to enter his presence and receive eternal life. Nephite usage radically expands the Old Testament concept by portraying this mortal probation as each person’s God-given opportunity to become good like God. The goodness of God is frequently invoked by the Nephite prophets as a basic theological concept which can explain why God advanced his plan of salvation for men before the world was and why he is completely reliable in blessing and protecting those who have entered the covenant path by embracing his gospel and striving to endure to the end. The Nephites also used the phrase in the Old Testament pattern to explain the acts of God in delivering, blessing, and preserving his covenant people. Furthermore, some usages seem to invoke all three of these contexts simultaneously, demonstrating the comfortable integration of each of these perspectives in Nephite theological understanding.

[Page 132]Readers of the Book of Mormon do not have to wait long to be introduced to the goodness of God as a foundational concept. In the second sentence of the book, Nephi refers to his “great knowledge of the goodness … of God” as a reason for writing it.1 In a 2016 article,2 Matthew L. Bowen shared his discovery that Nephi had demarcated his writings in the small plates as a single rhetorical unit with an inclusio by referring to the goodness of God at the beginning and again at the end.

Abstract: This article offers evidence that at least some Book of Mormon authors may have understood the potential for post-mortal preaching of the gospel. Indeed, they may have recognized that the future Book of Mormon would be a tool to spread the gospel not only among the living but also among those in the spirit world. Prophecies about the message of the Book of Mormon and the restored gospel being for all mankind may have broader scope than previously recognized, with application on both sides of the veil.

One of the most distinctive doctrines in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is that of the redemption of the dead, including the concepts of Christ preaching the gospel to those in the spirit world during the three days His body was in the tomb, baptism for the dead, and temple ordinances for the dead. Though such doctrines and practices have been widely criticized by other Christian groups, there is now substantial evidence that some early Christians also believed that post-mortal evangelization was possible.1 Likewise, there is significant support for vicarious baptism for the dead in at least part of [Page 102]early Christianity.2 Latter-day Saints generally see these doctrines and practices as an indication of God’s mercy and fairness, and cherish these elements as a beautiful and vital part of the Restoration.

One frequently encountered conundrum, though, is why the key volume of scripture of the Restoration, the Book of Mormon, is silent on the possibility of evangelization among the dead. Its teachings seem to many to teach nothing but heaven or hell, with those who die in a state of wickedness doomed to suffer in hell. This puzzle has been addressed in various ways, such as suggesting that these grand doctrines of the Restoration were not yet known to Book of Mormon prophets. But if known to at least some early Christians, why would the Nephites not also learn of the Lord’s tender mercies toward all men?

On the other hand, in the complex Book of Mormon is clear evidence that the various authors are truly different people with difference voices and differing levels of knowledge of or interest in various topics.3 For example, A. Keith Thompson suggests that King Benjamin may not yet have had the time or the ability to read the small plates of Nephi that he had inherited from Amaleki while serving as king. Thus, in King Benjamin’s beautiful sermon in Mosiah 2–4, he does not seem to be aware of information that Nephi and Jacob had revealed regarding the resurrection of all mankind and the name of the Messiah. In fact, tracing the doctrine of the resurrection in the Book of Mormon reveals a “subtle d...

Abstract: This paper addresses the early Christian transition from temple-based Judaism to the Constantinian basilica of the fourth century. David argues that some Christians of the second and early third centuries may have had places of worship that, while not monumental in scale, qualify typologically as temples and were understood as such. These sacred structures may have been used for the performance of baptisms for the dead, as suggested by Doctrine and Covenants 124. In support of this thesis, he takes as case studies the Christian places of worship at ancient Edessa and Dura Europos, based on a combination of textual sources and archaeological remains. David then briefly applies these findings to a question posed years ago in studies by Hugh Nibley and John Lundquist, “What Is a Temple?”

[Editor’s Note: Part of our book chapter reprint series, this article is reprinted here as a service to the Latter-day Saint community. Original pagination and page numbers have necessarily changed, otherwise the reprint has the same content as the original.

See David Calabro, “From temple to church: Defining sacred space in the Near East,” in The Temple: Past, Present, and Future. Proceedings of the Fifth Interpreter Foundation Matthew B. Brown Memorial Conference, 7 November 2020, ed. Stephen D. Ricks and Jeffrey M. Bradshaw (Orem, UT: The Interpreter Foundation; Salt Lake City: Eborn Books, 2021), page numbers forthcoming. Further [Page 78]information at https://interpreterfoundation.org/books/the-temple-past-present-and-future/.]

Introduction

The scriptures of the Restoration have a way of pushing us beyond prevailing scholarly paradigms, sometimes even requiring us to return to the primary sources and rebuild from the ground up. This is a healthy process—part of learning “by study and also by faith” (Doctrine and Covenants 88:118).

The present study began with a passage from the Doctrine and Covenants section 124. In verses 25–27, in a passage closely analogous to the Lord’s commandment to build a tabernacle in Exodus 25:1–9, the Lord commands the Saints to bring products for the construction of a house for the Lord to dwell in. Then, in verses 29–33, the Lord gives as a fundamental purpose of this commandment the fact that the ordinance of baptism for the dead “belongeth to [his] house.” He goes on to say that there is a “sufficient time” appointed, after which the baptisms would no longer be acceptable. For the Saints in our dispensation, this “sufficient time” lasted until the dedication of the baptismal font of the Nauvoo Temple in November 1841, about one year after the doctrine of baptism for the dead was revealed.1

Verse 33 mentions that this localization of the ordinance was “instituted from before the foundation of the world,” which statement implies that the temple was the preferred place for this ordinance in prior dispensations as well. Yet our doctrine also maintains that baptism for the dead began to be practiced in the dispensation of the meridian of time, after Jesus organized the preaching of the Gospel to the spirits in prison (Doctrine and Covenants 138:29–35). Paul gives us the first and only biblical reference to this ordinance:

Else what shall they do which are baptized for the dead, if the dead rise not at all? why are they then baptized for the dead? (1 Corinthians 15:29)

Early Christian literature also provides some information about the practice of baptism for the dead. From a couple references in the writings of Tertullian, we see that the practice was already poorly understood among Chr...

Abstract: The Semitic/Hebrew name Samuel (šĕmûʾēl) most likely means “his name is El” — i.e., “his name [the name that he calls upon in worship] is El” — although it was also associated with “hearing” (šāmaʿ) God (e.g., 1 Samuel 3:9–11). In the ancient Near East, the parental hope for one thus named is that the son (and “his name”) would glorify El (a name later understood in ancient Israel to refer to God); or, like the biblical prophet Samuel, the child would hear El/God (“El is heard”). The name šĕmûʾēl thus constituted an appropriate symbol of the mission of the Son of God who “glorified the name of the Father” (Ether 12:8), was perfectly obedient to the Father in all things, and was the Prophet like Moses par excellence, whom Israel was to “hear” or “hearken” in all things (Deuteronomy 18:15; 1 Nephi 22:20; 3 Nephi 20:32). Jesus may have referred to this in a wordplay on the name Samuel when he said: “I commanded my servant Samuel, the Lamanite, that he should testify unto this people, that at the day that the Father should glorify his name in me that there were many saints who should arise from the dead” (3 Nephi 23:9). Samuel the Lamanite had particularly emphasized “believ[ing] on the name” of God’s Son in the second part of his speech (see Helaman 14:2, 12–13) in advance of the latter’s coming. Samuel thus seems to use a recurrent or thematic rhetorical wordplay on his own name as an entry point to calling the Nephites to repent and return to living the doctrine of Christ, which activates the blessings of the atonement of Jesus Christ. Mormon took great care to show that all of the signs and prophecies that Samuel gave the Nephites of Zarahemla were fulfilled at the time of Jesus’s birth, death, and resurrection as Jesus glorified the Father’s name in [Page 50]every particular, and found further fulfillment in some particulars during Mormon’s own life and times.

Mormon had an exceptional regard for Samuel the Lamanite as a prophet. He demonstrates as much by his lengthy inclusion of parts of Samuel’s prophecy to the reprobate Nephites of Zarahemla (Helaman 13–15) and also by the care he took to show how the signs and prophecies that Samuel gave his hearers came to complete fulfillment.1

Nevertheless, no greater commendation of Samuel — the man and his message — exists than the one given by Jesus Christ himself. Mormon records that Jesus mildly chided the Nephite record-keepers, including Nephi3 himself, for failing to include Samuel’s prophecy regarding the resurrection of the dead and numerous post-resurrection appearances of the righteous dead (see 3 Nephi 23:6–13). This censure included the following statement:

Verily I say unto you: I commanded my servant Samuel [šĕmûʾēl] the Lamanite that he should testify unto this people that at the day that the Father should glorify his name [Hebrew šĕmô] in me that there were many saints who should arise from the dead and should appear unto many and should minister unto them. And he said unto them: Were it not so? (3 Nephi 23:9; emphasis in all scriptural citations is mine.)2

In this declaration, Jesus plays on the Semitic/Hebrew name šĕmûʾēl — “his name is El” — in terms of its onomastic components: šĕmô (“his name”) + ʾēl, (“El” or God). In other words, Jesus invokes šĕmûʾēl, “a name which glorifies God,”3 in close conjunction with his own stated mission ...