Dialogue 45.3 (Fall 2013):138–177
In this paper, I argue that this preoccupation with structural collapse legitimizes a critical consideration of the way that language functions in the book, rendering the Book of Mormon particularly well-suited to a reading that employs the techniques of post-structural criticism.
The gold plates occupy an interesting place in Mormon culture. Although they are an essential part of the Mormon foundational narrative, the plates have a peripheral place in Mormons’ ordinary discourse. Take, for example, the 1989 Primary songbook.According to the index, there are sixteen songs about being reverent in church, and an additional three concerned with the need for quiet. In contrast, only two explicitly deal with the gold plates. And when one thinks about Mormon material culture, sacred garments and temple art come more readily to mind than the plates. Yet in this paper I argue that the gold plates are actually prime examples of Mormon material culture, and that, in fact, the practice of invoking the gold plates in the popular imagination shapes and reflects Mormon culture in significant ways.
When Joseph Smith’s unearthing of the “gold plates” with the mysteriously bound portion first stirred intense controversy in the regions of New York, notions of “sealed books” had already been causing upheavals in other parts of the globe. At the time tremors were still being felt in England from efforts to uncover the controversial “sealed prophecies” of the mystic and prophetess Joanna Southcott, Russell Huntley was establishing a sizeable trust fund for the publication of the forthcoming sealed portion of the Book of Mormon. Huntley’s confidence that the Reorganized LDS Church would soon have the remainder of the record in its possession seemed to have waned by the 1880s, at which point he requested the money be returned.Yet the desire for hidden records has not disappeared. A small group of Southcott followers survives today, with a once-active advertising campaign calling for the “sealed prophecies” to be restored, and splinter groups of the LDS Church have generated their own versions of the “sealed portion” of the Book of Mormon plates.
Dialogue 45.3 (Fall 2012): 70–83
I will be talking today about how women fit into the functional structure of LDS church governance; but, unlike many of the others speaking today, I do not have advanced degrees in my subject, nor do I consider myself an academic
The scriptures include many references to creative women. Han nah and Dorcas created treasured textiles (1 Samuel 2:19; Acts 9:39), but we don’t know what those garments looked like. Sarah created memorable meals for her guests (Genesis 18:6), but we don’t know her recipes. The daughters of the Lamanites danced in delight (Mosiah 20:1), but no technology could capture their creative whirl. So most of the results of women’s creative efforts have been lost to history. But one form of women’s ingenuity has survived: contained within the canon itself are several examples of women’s sacred songs. This paper will explore some of these songs; we’ll see that sacred songs have been a central venue for women’s theological activity.
I don’t intend praise or to criticize these three engaging papers—they certainly are all clear and compelling—but to pay them the highest compliment, which is to comment on the thoughts they provoke. They compel us, as they were meant to do, to think more deeply about conversion. What does it consist of? What readies a person for conversion to Mormonism? What does Mor monism mean to converts?
When Edward Tullidge arrived in Utah during the late summer of 1861, one of his first actions was to write Brigham Young and state his “earnest desire” to enter the prophet’s service. “I care not in what form I am employed, within my capabilities, so that I am set to work by you,” he urged. A few months later, either out of worry that his original point wasn’t clear or because he wasn’t satisfied with the shoemaking job he had been assigned, he made a second, more detailed, plea: “From the time I came into the Church,” he wrote, “I fervently desired to live to see the Saints a great nation, and ranking in the first class of civilized society.” But witnessing wasn’t enough. He continued, “To desire to see this was in me also a desire to help it out. To be numbered among the workers-out of Zion’s social and national greatness, became my ambition.” Tullidge emphasized his activities of the past decade, especially his service as associate editor for the Millennial Star, Mormonism’s British periodical. He concluded the letter with a personal—and poignant—admission that next to his “ambition to do the work” was also “an ambition to gain your approbation and acceptance of my labours.”
In 1852, Heber C. Kimball delivered a funeral oration for Mary Fielding Smith, the sister-in-law of the martyred prophet and the wife of his brother Hyrum. Kimball described her as a devoted wife and mother. He told the congregation that “if any person has lived the life of a Saint, she has.”He offered her as an example to the women of Zion, as an exemplar of the faith who had looked after her sons and daughters. She also had not complained when her second husband had not visited her very frequently. Kimball ended by telling the congregation, possibly making insinuations about the industry of other women, that she lived with “economy” and “industry,” caring not only for her immediate family but also for several older adults in her care.Kimball was not the only one to eulogize her. Her son Joseph proclaimed that “nothing beneath the celestial kingdom” could “surpass [his] deathless love” for his mother. “She was good!” he exclaimed. “She was pure! She was indeed a Saint!” and “a royal daughter of God.”
In 1971, African-American artist Gil Scott-Heron released a powerful political anthem called “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised.” Forty years later, in Tahrir Square and Occupy Wall Street, the revolution was not only televised, but also blogged, Facebooked, YouTubed, and tweeted. The phenomenon of Mormon-authored, Mormon-themed blogs—collectively known as the “bloggernacle”—may not properly constitute a revolution in Mormonism, but it has undoubtedly changed both the cultural landscape and the broader conversation both within and about Mormonism.
The many recent conferences on Mormonism, or sessions at larger conferences that deal with Mormon issues, show that Mormonism has become one of the hotter topics in the academy today—in part because Mormonism is such…