Abstract: The story in John 8 of the woman taken in adultery is sometimes used to argue that Jesus was lenient toward sin and that we should be too. However, when placed in its broader context, we can see the story is not one in which Christ shows indifference or contempt for the law, but rather utmost respect for it.

The story of the woman taken in adultery is sometimes referenced as an example of the love and forgiveness of Jesus. As Raymond Brown has observed, “Some have used this to paint their portrait of the liberal Christ and have turned it in to a maudlin justification for indifference toward sins of the flesh.”1 Of course, as Christ exemplifies perfect love and is the embodiment of mercy, it is tempting to use this story as an illustration of Christ’s love and mercy. However, those who use the story as an example of how we should not judge others, that we should be forgiving of one another, or that Christ is against capital punishment,2 fail to take into account the context in which the story takes place.

For example, it is important to remember that Jesus Christ gave Moses the law. He, as Jehovah, commanded that adulterers should be put to death.3 Capital punishment for adultery was part of the Hebrew canon of laws at the time of Christ.4 It would be curious indeed if He who gave the law was now advocating that the law not be enforced. Some may be inclined to resolve this incongruity on the basis that Christ was God, He who would pay for all sins on the cross and later stand in judgment of mankind (John 5:22; 1 John 2:2). Christ, the only person who has ever been totally without sin (Hebrews 4:15), paid the price for our sins. He therefore had the divine right to condemn a sinner or to forgive a repentant offender. However, He did not actually forgive the woman (John 8:11). Furthermore, the Pharisees did not believe that Jesus could forgive sins (Luke 5:21), and [Page 54]yet somehow they were “convicted by their own conscience” (John 8:9). So what message did the Pharisees actually understand?

It has been suggested that Christ was teaching that while “the letter of the law seemed to compel Jesus to condemn the woman, … his response shows that sometimes the righteousness of God is better served by redemptive and restorative grace.”5 Was this Christ’s message? That the law should no longer be enforced since we have all sinned and fallen short of God’s glory (Romans 3:23)? There is nothing in the text to indicate that the reason the Pharisees left is that they suddenly became converted to the principle of redemptive and restorative grace. So what could have caused them to leave?

It should be noted at the outset that much of the scholarly writing addressing this incident has examined the question of whether the story was authentic and an original part of the Gospel or was fabricated and inserted at some later time.6 Of course, even if the episode was not an original part of the Gospel of John, we need not necessarily conclude that the story was apocryphal.7 Furthermore, regardless of whether or not the story actually happened, the question of why it was written and how we should interpret it is an interesting and important one. What was the writer of the story trying to teach by showing Jesus Christ apparently defending the adulteress and allowing her to escape punishment — a punishment He Himself had pronounced?

Abstract: In its action, setting, and arrangement, the crucifixion may be viewed as a stark mockery of the final judgment scene. This article provides a brief review of the relevant scriptures, considered together with some related apocryphal and other early Christian writings of interest in regard to the crucifixion. These sources point to the interpretation that the gospel writers saw in the crucifixion a striking symbolism that can provide a strong reminder, witness, and warning of the coming judgment. The Lord is seen in the crucifixion as at once representing His humility in submitting Himself to be judged and, conversely, His authority and power to be the judge of all. The crucifixion signifies the concept of a reciprocal or two-way judgment, as emphasized in the Book of Mormon, where mankind first judges the Lord, and later are to be judged accordingly by Him in return.

An important and neglected aspect of the crucifixion is its function as a vivid reminder and warning of the final judgment. A greater recognition of this relationship could be helpful at this time of growing secularization, allowing the Lord’s suffering to reawaken a sense of reality in regard to the coming judgment. It could also be a constructive and vital influence in the maintenance of Christian morality. A most forceful and stirring witness and warning of the judgment can be seen in the crucifixion.

Reminders of the Judgment in the Crucifixion

In the New Testament description of the crucifixion, Jesus is seen crucified together with two thieves or malefactors, “on either side one, [Page 40]and Jesus in the midst” (John 19:18). More specifically, in each of the three synoptic gospels, the thieves are seen “the one on his right hand, and the other on his left.”1 It is very significant that the gospel writers expressed the arrangement in this manner, for the description is in the language and imagery of the judgment — the right/left concept found many places in the scriptures.2 The crucifixion may be understood as an inexpressibly perverse and diabolical mockery of the final judgment scene. While hideously distorted and grotesque, it nevertheless portrays the judgment, reflecting the striking imagery where men are separated on the right or left hand of God.

The two thieves, to whom the Lord is pointing or designating, may be considered as representing a sinful and “crucified” or judged humanity, exemplifying the separation of persons at the judgment. Mankind may well relate to the thieves or malefactors, for “all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). The thieves represent persons of differing response to the outstretched Christ. One thief railed against the Lord’s authority in words reminiscent of Lucifer in the temptation:3 “If thou be Christ, save thyself and us” (Luke 23:39). The penitent thief, presumably on the Lord’s right hand,4 acknowledges both the innocence of Jesus and his own transgressions while recognizing Christ’s kingship and thus the right to preside at the judgment: “Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom” (Luke 23:42). The narratives of the crucifixion abound with overtones of judgment. Thus, the purple robe of royalty, the flimsy reed or scepter with the “reed in his right hand,”5 the mock title of kingship placed over His head, the crown of thorns, and the bended knee as they “mocked him, saying, Hail, King of the Jews!

Abstract: Scriptural accounts are rife with information about the import of the first Easter. Understanding the events of the week before the death and resurrection of Christ can help us appreciate the words of the witnesses as well as the importance of these events in our lives.

All Easter celebrations, Orthodox or Western, reach back to the first Easter, beginning that Sunday morning when the Galilean women followers of Jesus went to the tomb and found it emptied of his body but with two angelic messengers present, one of whom announced the resurrection in what, we may presume, were well rehearsed words. That the women were Galileans is settled by the presence of Mary Magdalene and Joanna among them (Luke 8:2–3; 24:10). That Sunday was exactly a week after Jesus had entered Jerusalem after his long climb from Jericho (Mark 11:11). Although the Gospel accounts differ about the order of events, it appears that, once inside the temple, Jesus created havoc (Luke 19:45–46) before retreating back over the Mount of Olives to the safety of Bethany on the mount’s eastern slope.

Jesus and his dozens of followers had arrived almost a week before Passover to purify themselves as required by Jewish law. After immersing themselves in ritual baths and receiving a sprinkling of water mixed with the ashes of a red heifer from a priest as they stepped onto the temple grounds, Jesus and his entourage spent several days together while he taught the throngs of people who had gathered from far and wide. Each night the moon grew fuller and fuller, expanding to a full moon on Passover itself.

As always, the mood in the city was light and happy; Passover was that kind of holiday. But beneath the positive exterior of temple authorities bubbled a boiling brew of anti-Jesus sentiment. From long before the moment that he and his friends streamed through the city [Page 34]gate, these officials sought means to trap him and eliminate him. But how? Even though he was almost within their grasp, crowds of adoring admirers attended his every move. It was impossible to touch him. Then, like a puff of cooling air in their stifling room, Judas appeared. With the chief priests he made a deal to deliver Jesus to them (see Mark 14:10–11). The stage was now set with all its props. What remained was for the main actors to carry out their agreed roles. And indeed they did, with Judas leading a mixed band of soldiers and temple police to Gethsemane, where, since about midnight, Jesus had been suffering terribly, even “unto death,” as Mark wrote (Mark 14:34), and sweating “as it were great drops of blood” that fell onto “the ground,” as Luke reported (Luke 22:44).

Jesus’ suffering is partially captured in his movements in the garden. In Mark’s account, evidently the earliest of the Gospels, we find a series of verbs in the imperfect tense, a Greek tense that, among other things, describes customary and repeated action. For example, “She kept running” or “She was knitting a sweater.” In Mark’s case, the scene that he presents is Jesus going forward, falling onto the ground, and praying; then going forward, falling, and praying; then again going forward, falling, and praying (Mark 14:35). Jesus’ repeated actions remind us of an athlete who, in performing at a level that causes extreme pain, adjusts the body’s position to lessen the pain, even if the adjustment brings only a tiny bit of relief. In Gethsemane, it seems plain that Jesus kept moving and falling to the earth in an effort to find any kind of relief from the pain and anguish that had suddenly engulfed him.

In quick sequence that morning came Jesus’ so-called “mock trial” before Jewish authori...

Abstract: In 1 Nephi 1:16–17, Nephi tells us he is abridging “the record of my father.” The specific words Nephi uses in his writings form several basic but important patterns and features used repeatedly by Nephi and also by other Book of Mormon writers. These patterns and features provide context that appears to indicate that Nephi’s abridgment of Lehi’s record is the third-person account found in 1 Nephi 1:4 through 2:15 and that Nephi’s first-person account of his own ministry begins in 1 Nephi 2:16.

This paper begins with a synopsis of the history of Nephi’s two sets of plates. It then reviews the literature that discusses Nephi’s abridgment of Lehi’s record. Textual analysis is then presented to suggest that Nephi’s abridgment of Lehi’s record begins in 1 Nephi 1:4 and continues (interspersed with Nephi’s editorial comments) through 1 Nephi 2:15, and is followed, beginning in 1 Nephi 2:16, by Nephi’s account of his own ministry. The paper then briefly suggests that these accounts highlight the ministries of Lehi and Nephi. It also suggests that the period covered by Lehi’s original record probably matches the time covered by the abridgment.

Nephi’s Two Sets of Plates

It should be clear to any reader of the Book of Mormon that Nephi kept his record on two sets of plates. The first set, often called the large plates of Nephi, begins with Lehi’s record, followed by other records added by Nephi (see 1 Nephi 19:1–2). The second set, often called the small plates of Nephi, begins with Nephi’s abridgment of Lehi’s record and Nephi’s account of his own ministry (see 1 Nephi 1:16–17).

[Page 10]Nephi’s Large-Plate Record

The Lord commanded Nephi to make his large plates shortly after the family arrived in the promised land (see 1 Nephi 18:23–19:2). The Book of Mormon contains two short summaries of the early large- plate records. In each summary, Nephi lists “the record of my father” (1 Nephi 19:1–2)1 as the initial record on these plates.2 After engraving Lehi’s record onto the large plates, Nephi added other information about the history of his people. Lehi continued to live and to prophesy after Nephi had engraved “the record of my father” onto the large plates (see, for example, 2 Nephi 1–4). Nephi’s record on the large plates includes many of Lehi’s prophecies (see 1 Nephi 10:15) and many of Nephi’s own prophecies (see 1 Nephi 19:1).

By the time the Lord commanded Nephi to create the small plates (see 2 Nephi 5:30), a total of 30 years had passed since the family left Jerusalem (see 2 Nephi 5:28). During the intervening years in the promised land, Lehi had died, Laman and Lemuel had tried to kill Nephi (see 2 Nephi 5:2), and Nephi and his followers had fled to the land of Nephi (see 2 Nephi 5:4– 28). By then, the large-plate record was already a comprehensive record, beginning with Lehi’s record and continuing with Nephi’s account of many subsequent events (see 1 Nephi 9:2, 1 Nephi 19:1–2, and 2 Nephi 5:29). Nephi explains that, “the things which transpired before that I made these plates [the small plates] are of a truth more particularly made mention upon the first plates [the large plates]” (1 Nephi 19:2).

The large-plate record contains visions and prophecies (see, for example, 1 Nephi 9:2; 10:15; and 19:1),

Abstract: Jeffrey R. Chadwick has previously called attention to the name ŚRYH (Seraiah/Sariah) as a Hebrew woman’s name in the Jewish community at Elephantine. Paul Y. Hoskisson, however, felt this evidence was not definitive because part of the text was missing and had to be restored. Now a more recently published ostracon from Elephantine, which contains a sure attestation of the name ŚRYH as a woman’s name without the need of restoration, satisfies Hoskisson’s call for more definitive evidence and makes it more likely that the name is correctly restored on the papyrus first noticed by Chadwick. The appearance of the name Seraiah/Sariah as a woman’s name exclusively in the Book of Mormon and at Elephantine is made even more interesting since both communities have their roots in northern Israel, ca. the eighth–seventh centuries BCE.

In 1993, Jeffrey R. Chadwick noted the appearance of the Hebrew name ŚRYH (שריה), typically rendered Seraiah in English, as a woman’s name on an Aramaic papyrus from Elephantine and dated to the fifth century BCE.1 As also pointed out by Chadwick, Nahman Avigad has argued that the Hebrew name ŚRYH(W) should be rendered as Saryah(u), rather than the usual Serayah(u) — which would make the English spelling Sariah instead of Seraiah.2 Thus, according to Chadwick, the attestation [Page 2]of ŚRYH as a Hebrew female name at Elephantine provides strong supporting evidence for the appearance of a Hebrew woman named Sariah in the Book of Mormon (1 Nephi, headnote; 2:5; 5:1, 6; 8:14).3

Paul Y. Hoskisson, however, urged caution about this evidence since the papyrus in question (Cowley-22) has a lacuna requiring restoration of both the final hē (ה) in ŚRYH and the bet- resh (בר) of the Aramaic word brt (ברת), “daughter,” which is the key indication that the individual in question is a woman.4 Thus, Hoskisson cautioned, “restorations cannot provide absolute proof but rather at best a suggestion.”5 He considered it a good sign that “other scholars accept the possible existence of this feminine name in relative temporal proximity to the beginnings of the Book of Mormon,” but Hoskisson ultimately felt “a clear-cut example of the name for a female would be more helpful.”6

Chadwick argued, however, that “the comparative context of the papyrus leaves little doubt that the reconstruction is accurate,” and it is really “the extant final t” of brt that “assures us that the person was [Page 3]a daughter, not a son.”7 In the most recently published translation and transcription of this papyrus, Bezalel Porten and Ada Yardeni would seem to agree. In their hand-drawing of the Cowley-22 papyrus (see Figure 1),8 they represented the restoration of the final hē (ה) in ŚRYH and the bet-resh (בר) of brt as being “nearly certain.”9

Nonetheless, new evidence that completely satisfies Hoskisson’s call for a more “clear-cut” example has been found. Porten and Yardeni [Page 4]document ŚRYH as a Hebrew feminine name not once, but twice among the Aramaic documents at Elephantine.10 A list of names on an ostracon found there,

Abstract: Young members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints have grown up with a plethora of information available to answer the questions they may have about the Gospel. This, in turn, has allowed discordant information to cause concern in many members, ultimately drawing some away from the Gospel. In a recent address to young, married members of the Church in Chicago, President Dallin H. Oaks advised that more research is often not the way to approach these concerns, but rather that members should rely on their faith in Jesus Christ. While many may not agree with this advice, when it comes to questions that will never have a provable answer, particularly of a religious nature, President Oaks’s words are correct. Research can never completely replace true faith, only supplement it.

In our current day when the use of handheld, GPS-enabled devices has virtually supplanted the use of paper maps, it is possible that the following excerpt by Lewis Carroll may be lost on some. The message, though, is important.

“What a useful thing a pocket-map is!” I remarked.

“That’s another thing we’ve learned from your Nation,” said Mein Herr, “map-making. But we’ve carried it much further than you. What do you consider the largest map that would be really useful?”

“About six inches to the mile.”

“Only six inches!” exclaimed Mein Herr. “We very soon got to six yards to the mile. Then we tried a hundred yards to the mile. And then came the grandest idea of all! We actually made a map of the country, on the scale of a mile to the mile!”

“Have you used it much?” I enquired.

[Page viii]“It has never been spread out, yet,” said Mein Herr: “the farmers objected: they said it would cover the whole country, and shut out the sunlight! So we now use the country itself, as its own map, and I assure you it does nearly as well.”1

Young, married Latter-day Saints in Chicago had a notable opportunity on 2 February 2019, when President Dallin H. Oaks, first counselor in the First Presidency of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter- day Saints, passed through the city as a visitor. There was some special meaning in his visit because he had lived in Chicago for a number of years, originally as a student at the highly-ranked law school of the University of Chicago and then, among other things, as a member of that law school’s faculty.

Subsequently, an article appeared in the Church News about his remarks, and I found a couple of passages from his speech, as reported in the article, of particular interest: 

“Your generation has grown up with an avalanche of information about the history of the Church that is new to many and concerning to some,” he said. “The time-honored principles of relying on and trusting the Lord and His servants are questioned by some.” … He acknowledged that some Latter-Saint couples face conflicts over important values and priorities. Matters of Church history and doctrinal issues have led some spouses to inactivity. Some spouses wonder how to best go about researching and responding to such issues. “I suggest that research is not the answer,” he said. The Church does offer answers to many familiar questions through its Gospel Topics Essays found at lds.org. “But the best answer to any question that threatens faith is to work to increase faith in the Lord Jesus Christ,” he said. “Conversion to the Lord precedes conversion to the Church. And conversion to the Lord comes through pray...

Abstract: In this masterful presentation, accomplished historian Davis Bitton addresses the role of history and belief. Testimonies, he asserts, are born of belief and spiritual witnesses, not from historical events. It is quite possible to know all about Church history and still remain a believing member.

[Editor’s Note: This essay was presented at the 2004 FAIR Conference.1 In preparation for publication it has been lightly copy edited and some citations and annotations added.]

I don’t have a testimony of the history of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. That is why I can be a historian and also a believing Latter-day Saint. I will expand on this idea, but first let me address some related questions.

Do All Well-informed Historians Become Anti-Mormons?

The critics would have you believe that they are disinterested pursuers of the truth. There they were, minding their own business, going about their conscientious study of Church history and — shock and dismay! — they came across this, whatever this is, that blew them away. As hurtful as it is for them, they can no longer believe in the Church and, out of love for you, they now want to help you see the light of day.2

[Page 286]Let’s get one thing clear: There is nothing in Church history that leads inevitably to the conclusion that the Church is false. There is nothing that requires the conclusion that Joseph Smith was a fraud. How can I say this with such confidence? For the simple reason that the historians who know most about our Church history have been and are faithful, committed members of the Church. Or, to restate the situation more precisely, there are faithful Latter-day Saint historians who know as much about this subject as any anti-Mormon or as anyone who writes on the subject from an outside perspective. With few exceptions, they know much, much more. They have not been blown away. They have not gnashed their teeth and abandoned their faith. To repeat, they have found nothing that forces the extreme conclusion our enemies like to promote.

We need to reject the simple-minded, inaccurate picture that divides people into two classes. On one hand, according to our enemies, are the sincere seekers of truth, full of goodness and charity. On the other hand, in their view, stand the ignorant members. Even faithful Latter-day Saint scholars must be ignorant. Otherwise they are dishonest, playing their part in the conspiracy to deceive their people. This is the anti-Mormon view of the situation.

Can we see how ridiculous this picture is? It is a travesty on both sides. Many Latter-day Saints may not know their history in depth. But some of them know a good deal. As for Latter-day Saint scholars, as a group they compare favorably with any similar group of historians. It will not do to charge them with being dishonest. I happen to know most of them and have no hesitation in rejecting a smear of their character.

On the other hand, your typical anti-Mormon is no disinterested pursuer of the truth. If you are confronted with a “problem,” some kind of “non-faith-promoting” take on Church history, chances are good that your willing helper can lay no claim to doing any significant research in Mormon history. Oblivious to the primary sources, unread in the journal literature, the critic has picked up his nugget from previous anti- Mormon writers and offers it to you as though it is a fresh discovery. Most of the time it is anything but new. It is a stock item in a litany of anti-Mormon claims that serve their purpose.

Abstract: When researching and evaluating historical information, it is easy to come across things that may lead to a crisis of faith. Some of those crises may lead individuals to leave the Church and actively proselytize against it. It is much better when dealing with historical issues to approach them from a standpoint of charity, treating historical figures as we would like to be treated.

You can view this essay, if you would like, as an extended “Editor’s Note,” prefatory to the article immediately following. I felt it appropriate to share some personal information with you about the topic of faith crises rooted in historical investigation and what I’ve come to view as a productive approach to those topics.

I am a convert to the Church, joining with my family shortly before my 12th birthday. That makes me a first-generation member, not knowing anything about the Church before the missionaries knocked on our door. I did not grow up in Utah, nor did I have the opportunity to learn the common, faith-promoting songs and lessons that permeate the atmosphere of Primary.

When I joined the Church, our family lived in southwestern Ohio. I remember taking a state history class in junior high school, not long after joining the Church. In that class there was a textbook chapter about the “Mormons” and the period they were in Kirtland, which was (of course) in the northern end of my state.

In presenting the course material, the teacher told us how Joseph Smith was a scoundrel, and he was tarred and feathered. Even though I had been in the Church only a short time, I knew enough of Joseph to know he wasn’t a scoundrel, but the idea that he was tarred and feathered was shocking, upsetting news to me.

[Page 278]How could this be? Perhaps, not having been through Primary, I had not learned of this incident before. Perhaps the school textbook was mistaken. Either way, I was crestfallen at my young age: how could a prophet of God be tarred and feathered? That happened only to bad people, right?

It was my first crisis of faith. It would not be my last. There would be many times through my life when I would be faced with information that didn’t fit what I “knew must be.” There would be many times when I heard historical information that would not neatly fit into what I thought I understood as a complete picture.

Such experiences are not unique to me; many people have them. Anyone who does any study at all is quite often faced with historical “facts”1 that can throw us a bit: they can make us question what we know and can shake us as we try to fit them into what we believe. Such occurrences are, by definition, crises of faith. Some are small and inconsequential, while others can be large and devastating.

One for me that became large and devastating was when I was much older. Married and with young children at the time, I was troubled by the historical facts related to polygamy, so I wanted to study more about the topic. The book I chose to read in this endeavor was Mormon Polygamy: A History.2 I devoured the book, and it nearly devoured me. I remember having the nagging question of “If this is all true (what I am reading), then how could Joseph be any kind of a prophet?”

I was in a full-blown crisis of faith. The question was so troubling to me that I found out where the author, Richard Van Wagoner, lived and knocked on his door.3 I cannot remember if...

Abstract: Psalms was the favorite Old Testament book at Qumran and in the New Testament; the Book of Mormon contains more than three dozen allusions to Psalms. While Psalms contains both powerful, poetic words of comfort and doctrinal gems, many psalms also seem to careen between praise, warning, comfort, military braggadocio, and humility, sometimes addressing the Lord, sometimes speaking in the voice of the Lord or his prophets. The texts that most strongly exhibit such abrupt shifts may yield greater meaning if they are read as scripts or libretti of a sacred, temple- based drama.

 

 

Psalms was the favorite Old Testament book at Qumran,1 as it was in the earliest centuries of the Christian Church.2 The Book of Mormon contains more than three dozen allusions to Psalms,3 and the New Testament quotes Psalms more than any other Old Testament book.4 Psalms contains powerful, poetic words of comfort and doctrinal gems, but many psalms also seem to careen between praise, warning, instruction, comfort, military braggadocio, and humility; sometimes addressing the Lord, sometimes addressing assembled Israel; speaking in the voice of the Lord, or a prophet, or a priest, or as Israel, or a sufferer, or a victor; sometimes in the plural, sometimes in the singular; sometimes intensely introspectively and sometimes nationally — that is, dealing with the security of the country and the fertility of the land. The texts that most strongly exhibit these abrupt shifts may yield greater meaning to both readers and serious students of scripture when they are placed within the context of sacred drama, as Jeffrey Bradshaw suggests, and read as scripts — the libretti, if you prefer — of a sacred drama.

In his July 3, 2018 “Old Testament KnoWhy,” Jeffrey Bradshaw wrote a thoughtful, close reading of psalms 22, 23, and 24, a reading that focused on the use of these psalms in a proposed sacred drama, as a “ritual journey of the king.”5 The outline of the ritual journey of [Page 260]the king — and the reconstruction of larger sacred drama of which some suggest it is a part — remains a scholarly proposal, a hypothetical construct. The shape of sacred drama, in this view, follows a persistent pattern across a wide range of cultures. Included in this pattern may be the idea of the king as the incarnation of the national god.

Nibley supported this construct, pointing out that “the force of the evidence is cumulative and is based on extensive comparative studies.” He mentions 20 studies and identifies 36 ways in which King Benjamin’s Book of Mormon discourse at the temple follows the pattern of the “Great Assembly at the New Year,” a pattern widely spread across many cultures, including Israel’s neighbors. He notes, however, that in the Book of Mormon “everything takes place on a far higher spiritual plane than that implied in most of the Old World ritual texts.” Nibley writes that, according to this pattern, the “year rite” takes place at a temple and includes coronation and royal marriage, sacrifice and burnt offerings, thanksgiving, the “ritual descent of the king to the underworld — he is ritually overcome by death, and then ritually resurrected.” (This is part of the ritual journey of the king to which Bradshaw refers.) His people are promised victory and prosperity if they will be obedient. They are overcome: “proskynesis was the falling to the earth (literally, “kissing the ground).” The members of the assembled congregation make covenants and receive a “ritual begetting of the human race by a divine parent,

Abstract: The three great monotheistic religious traditions (Judaism, Christianity, and Islam) all claim Abraham as father and prototypical monotheist. Though Adam is the putative first father in all of these traditions, he is seldom remembered in Judeo-Christian scriptural, apocryphal, or pseudepigraphic texts as an exemplary monotheist. This essay briefly reviews why Abraham retains the lofty title “Father of Monotheism” while exploring how Latter-day restoration scripture adds to and challenges this ancient tradition vis-à-vis enhanced understanding of Adam’s covenantal and monotheistic fidelity to God.

Was Adam a monotheist? Though he was the first to know God, Adam is seldom even an afterthought in the topic of monotheism. Why is this so? When we think of the great monotheistic religions of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, it is not Father Adam whom we turn to but rather Father Abraham. Abraham retains the lofty title “Father of Monotheism.”1 This article briefly addresses (1) several reasons why Abraham, not Adam, is considered the first monotheist, (2) how Latter-day Saint restoration scripture affects this conversation, and (3) the implications that this tradition has for our understanding of the historical development of monotheistic faith.

What is Monotheism?

The term “monotheism” does not appear in or originate from Biblical texts. In fact, as a categorical term, “monotheism” is an invention of the English Enlightenment, coined by Cambridge Platonist Henry More in [Page 246]the 1660s in a treatise attempting to establish a typology of religions,2 where monotheism was set up as an antonym to atheism.3 However, I think monotheism is better defined by what it is than by what it is not.

I define monotheism as the belief in, the reverence of, and the faithful commitment to one God, with reciprocal promises or covenants from God offered as rewards to the faithful. We might consider this “covenantal monotheism,” the monotheism at the heart of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.

Popular and Scholarly Treatmentsof the Origins of Monotheism

What is being said about the origins of monotheism? Popular works on monotheism assume and perpetuate the idea that Abraham was the first monotheist. Consider the work by Jonathan Kirsch, God Against the Gods, where he claims,

The first person to recognize and worship the single all- powerful deity variously known as “Yahweh” or “Lord” or “Allah” was Abraham, whose encounter with the God of Israel in the land of Canaan is memorably depicted in the Book of Genesis.4

Or consider the book The Discovery of God: Abraham and The Birth of Monotheism.5 This book chronicles the life of Abraham but in the process [Page 247]assumes as correct and perpetuates the tradition that Abraham was the first monotheist.

On the scholarly side, treatments of monotheism may pay lip service to the possibility of Adam as the first monotheist, but no pause is taken to explore the idea and its implications.6 Typical of this approach is the book Three Faiths, One God: The Formative Faith and Practice of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.7 In this book, the authors describe how Muslims explain Islam’s relationship to Judaism and Christianity:

[Page 248]Islam … is held to be identical with the true monotheism to which humankind was called again and agai...