"...wo unto them who are cut off from my church, for the same are overcome of the world” (D&C 50:8).
As individuals begin to drift from the Church, their grasp of LDS semantics begins to slip. The Plan of Salvation and Redemption becomes a comfortably vague “spiritual journey.” Reliance on energy healing, psychology, and unproven metaphysics and trinkets begin to replace faith, prayer, anointing by the Elders, and priesthood blessings as remedies. Criticism of leaders, programs, music, art, and anything else the Church publishes becomes constant. Reports of character flaws among the Brethren, true or false, become gratifying, a welcome justification of digression. The simple truths of the gospel become less appealing, a chore, while the deep gospel mysteries and obscure information, and the things of this world become more and more enticing. Unanswered questions become more important to attitudes than answered ones. Contempt for leaders becomes ubiquitous. Slights and injuries, perceived or real, become amplified, while benefits of membership are downplayed. Finally, after leaving the Church entirely, as Joseph Smith prophesied, apostates begin to thirst for his blood.
There are many reasons apostasy occurs. Parables and imagery from the scriptures illustrate them. Jesus interprets His own Parable of the Sower in Matt. 13. Inability to endure, or to endure persecution and tribulation, leads to becoming offended. Being choked with the cares of the world and the pursuit of riches leads to decreased productivity in the Church. Only those who hear the word, understand it, and endure accordingly, produce in His parable. Another symbolic description of apostasy and its causes can be found in Lehi’s dream in 1Ne. 8. Blindness because of the devil’s temptations, distractions of the world (clothing, etc.), shame from paying attention to mocking and disapproval of the world, and especially a casual grasp of the revelations of God, are all cited as precursors of failure to enter the gate, or apostasy after entering.
In the Allegory of the Olive Trees, the “loftiness” of the trees of the vineyard is listed as the reason for failure. The scriptures provide little specific interpretation of this symbolic story. “Loftiness” could mean pride, or having more information or wealth than the people were ready to live up to (as in Jacob 4:14). Approaching the Church and the Gospel as a buffet, where one may take what is desirable and leave the rest, has been mentioned in recent General Conferences. Elder Ballard recently explained that to “think right” about the Church means to accept or reject it whole, not to pick it apart or attempt to redesign it. D&C 22:4 says “...seek not to counsel your God.” If leaders are really called and chosen of God, and acting as His representatives, criticizing and contradicting the doctrines they teach, or the policies they enact, is equivalent to counseling God.
D&C 22 also reminds us that the gate into heaven is narrow, strait. While there is some truth in each religion or belief system, the most fundamental thing any of them can teach is God’s identity. And there is only one Church on the earth that teaches correct doctrine about who God is, His attributes, and our relationship to Him: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Answers to fundamental questions about life flow easily from the correct understanding that God is the Father all spirits. Those who abandon the Church and apostatize also forsake the most reasonable explanations of why we exist, the purpose of the earth, where we came from, where we are going, and why life is so fraught with pain and difficulty.
Concern that everyone feels good is a virtue, but not the most important one. When it erodes truth, it can also weaken the cement of any testimony. When truth is warped, curtailed, edited, revised, or abandoned in order to make others feel good, it weakens the foundation of a person’s testimony, or the creeds of religions. Accommodation through misrepresenting the truth is not the Gospel. We are to conform ourselves to the Church, or its teachings, and not vice versa. Perhaps we can be soft and delicate as we approach others about false beliefs they hold to, but solid gospel bones are necessary to support the velvet, gentle touch of correction. An unstable, false foundation will support cruelty as easily as tolerance and accommodation.
Judas, the arch-apostate, betrayed Jesus because of misguided virtues, not necessarily heinous sin (at least in the beginning).
He may have betrayed Jesus because of His politics. He was as zealot, one who felt there was no act too depraved if it were to expel Roman governance from Judea. Jesus taught peace, appeasement, rendering unto Caesar that which was Caesar’s. Perhaps Judas thought he could force Jesus to undo Roman rule by letting the authorities, civil and religious, compromise Jesus’ safety. Maybe Judas thought if they threatened Him, Jesus would lash out with miraculous destructive force. But His surrender and subsequent murder may have not only disappointed Judas—they may have shocked Judas into suicide.
Judas also may have protested Jesus’ disavowal of social and religious mores of the time. When the adulterous woman came to seek forgiveness, she violated several protocols. First, a woman in that day and place was expected to cover her hair in public (a custom that persists in that area today). But the woman who came to Jesus used her hair as a towel for Jesus’ feet. Second, she anointed Jesus with oil. This act seems innocuous to modern readers, but it had dangerous political implications. Pouring oil on someone in public was tantamount to selecting a new king (as with David), an act of defiant treason. (Jesus may have been speaking with humorous irony when he said she had done it “in token of [His] burial.”) Third, if the oil were of a certain recipe, it could only be poured on sacred objects associated with the Temple. Fourth, the oil was valuable. Judas’ stated objection was financial. He offers pious protestation: “Why was not this ointment sold...and given to the poor?” (John 12:5). This oil was worth a year’s wages for a working man, and Judas considered this a waste.
Judas' motives are largely a matter of conjecture. But Matthew and Mark indicate that Judas went and made his pact to betray Jesus after witnessing the adulterous woman anointing Jesus. His sensibilities were offended by his Master's conduct, and this was the last straw. The woman was guilty, racked with shame, but penitent, and seeking re-admittance. Judas was self-assured, self-righteous, and on his way out the door of fellowship in the kingdom. This pattern continues today. Many who have sinned their way out of the Church sit at the door and patiently await forgiveness and restoration to full fellowship; many who apostatize because of fault-finding and nit-picking never come near the house of God except to throw rocks.
Do we object to the financial decisions, political stances, social expectations, politically incorrect statements, and doctrinal assertions made by the living Apostles and prophets? If we do, our disagreements and criticism will be soaked in piety like Judas’ were. He had advice about how to run things. It is possible to feel very righteous while thinking and acting wrongly. Those who are embroiled in iniquity typically have no illusions about their lost and fallen state. Those who are convinced they are righteous can be blinded to their mistaken notions by pride. Judas could criticize Jesus because, in his own mind, his cause was just. Rigid, dogmatic, inflexible, conservative certainty can be a precursor to apostasy.
Jesus noted that we tend to decorate the graves of the dead prophets, and garnish their venerated memories, while we attack or ignore the living ones. No prophet has been murdered this century, but all of them have come under attack for their teachings. Skeptical scrutiny and personal attacks against them are rampant today. Sadly, many of these strikes are launched by members. (I have never heard anyone claim that their criticism of the Brethren or the Church was the result of personal revelation. This seems very significant.)
If we want a good idea of how we would react to Jesus if He were living among us today, we need only assess our current attitude toward the living prophets and Apostles.
This blog is a kind of Encyclopedia Eclectica of Jesse Campbell's opinions as of today. They may change; I'm still learning and growing. I'm a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but the content of this website is my responsibility. The dark background is easier on the eyes; the lack of color is not to be dreary. Search the term "update" to see changes to previous posts. Contact me at jessencampbell@yahoo.com. "Out of my brain I made his sermon flow…” Giles Fletcher, 1593.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Allegorical Temple Imagery in the Old Testament
("Temple" throughout this post refers to the Temple of Solomon or Tabernacle of Moses, not to modern LDS Temples).
In a previous post, I described the presence of what I call "allegorical Temple imagery" in the Book of Mormon. Various segments of the text symbolically connect images or vignettes from an author's life or experiences or teachings to evoke elements of the Old Temple or Tabernacle. This gives the text two layers: an overt, obvious one, and an allegorical one that refers to the various stations of the Tabernacle or Temple of Solomon. It sounds complicated, but once it is explained, it is easily grasped.
The basic concept is that some sections of scripture have multiple layers of meaning. The first layer is the obvious, literal one. But the imagery in this overt layer creates a symbolic layer beneath it—imagery that evokes the Tabernacle or Temple of Solomon. (For instance, fire might refer to the Atlar of Sacrifice; water to the Brazen Sea.)
The Torah
Moses wrote the Torah or "the Law," the first five books in the Bible. I believe that each of these books corresponds to, allegorically alludes to, a specific piece of furniture in the Old Temple or Tabernacle in the wilderness.
Genesis as the Brazen Sea
The first book, Genesis, contains accounts of the creation, mentioning "waters" and "the great deep." All things, humans included, are commanded to reproduce. Genesis tells us who begot whom. It tells of the destruction and death, and rebirth of the world associated with the flood, and Noah's family. The family histories of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and their wives are outlined, leading to the formation of the the Twelve Tribes of Israel. Abraham's servant first meets Isaac's wife, Rebekah, at a well with livestock. Jacob meets Rachel at a well, also with livestock. Joseph is described as a fruitful bough over a well. Taken separately, these things are simply a list of the major themes and events recorded in Genesis. But I believe their inclusion and emphasis was deliberate, because each of these things was meant to evoke a specific image beyond itself—each is a veiled reference to the Brazen Sea.
The ordinance of baptism represents birth, bath, burial and resurrection. The Font represents the womb, too. In Genesis, the earth is "born," followed by all life, and then humans. All are commanded to procreate. The earth is cleansed (buried) in the flood, and the survivors ride out the disaster inside an ark, a kind of coffin. They emerge as life is reborn. Genealogies include accounts of miraculous births, with stories of women bearing children.
Genesis records the creation of the House of Israel, the Twelve Tribes; there are twelve brazen ox sculptures at the base of the Font.
I believe Moses did this deliberately. Are there elements from other parts of the Temple in Genesis? Yes—there are mentions of altars and sacrifice, Joseph stores immeasurable grain to save Egypt, and so on. Can Genesis contain these other elements and still pertain primarily to the Laver or Brazen Sea? Yes. How? Sequence, the order of presentation, and emphasis. There may be water in other parts of the scriptures than Genesis, but a Flood that engulfs the whole world puts more emphasis on Genesis as a representation of the Font.
Exodus as the Altar of Sacrifice
The next book in the Torah is Exodus. Its imagery links it symbolically to the Altar of Sacrifice.
The Israelites begin the story by losing their firstborn sons in a slaughter. Moses is spared, and pulled from the water (sacrifices were ceremonially washed before they were killed) to become a prince. He becomes a shepherd (think sacrificial lamb), sees a burning bush atop a mountain (always a symbol of the Temple in scriptures), and is sent to free the children of Israel from Egypt. (Firstborn sons were to be atoned for at the Temple with the sacrifice of a lamb, or two doves if the family was poor, as with Jesus in Luke.) The Nile is turned to blood. Plagues fail to secure freedom for the Israelites, until God kills the firstborn sons of the Egyptians. The Israelites are spared because the blood of the Paschal Lamb is spread on the lintels and doorposts of their homes (blood was sprinkled on the four corners of the Altar). Burning fire protects Israel as the Twelve Tribes descend into the Red Sea. They go from killing sheep (Altar), to crossing the Red Sea (Laver), to the base of Mount Horeb, Sinai (the structure of the Old Temple). Moses enters Sinai (like the High Priest entering the Temple alone), and returns to find Israel worshiping a metal cow (a Font reference).
There are many references to other parts of the Old Temple in Exodus—manna could be Shewbread, etc. But the sequence that takes us from Laver to Altar continues in the Moses' next book, his allegorical Table of Shewbread.
Leviticus as the Table of Shewbread
The Book of Leviticus may seem like a jumble of rules and regulations by which Israel was supposed to live, the minutiae of the Law of Moses for which many modern Christians hold self-righteous contempt. How does this strange rule book evoke the Table of Shewbread? The Table was set like a modern kitchen table, only with ornate gold and silver vessels. The defining items on the Table were the twelve loaves of shewbread, one for each tribe of Israel. That means a place at the Table for everyone in Israel. It was a place for eating a spiritual meal, highly symbolic (this should strike a cord with Latter-day Saints who gather around the sacrament every Sunday).
Leviticus reads like a cookbook. Throughout it, interspersed with instructions about getting along with each other, are hundreds of references to food, smell, consumption (fire from heaven consumes offerings), cooking, preparation of food, kosher dietary guidelines, instructions for making acceptable sacrifices (more cooking, since many sacrifices were eaten afterward), and prohibitions for priest to imbibe wine. Food references crowd the pages of Leviticus. Chapter 21 even details how the Shewbread is to be offered, and lists the qualifications of anyone who touches or eats it. The "feasts of the Lord" (Lev. 23:6), including Passover, are set established by the Lord in the Hebrew calendar. Tithing of crops, flocks, and herds (all food) are commanded.
Numbers as the Menorah
I was once told that reading the Book of Numbers would cure insomnia. Perhaps readers would open their eyes wider if they were looking for symbols that evoke the Menorah. The Menorah represents the Tree of Life, and so a procreative theme undergirds Numbers.
Moses takes a census of the males old enough to go to battle (the Tree of Life was protected by cherubim and a flaming sword; hormones that enable procreation also amplify aggression). Laws of sexual purity are presented. Light is also prominent, as in the priestly blessing: "The Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee: The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace" (Num. 6:25-26). A cloud rests on the Tabernacle by day, and a pillar of fire by night. Fire from the Lord consumes rebels. (Fire, light and darkness, day and night, are all motifs connected to the Menorah.) Aaron's rod blossoms and yields almonds in chapter 17 (filigree images of almonds decorated the branches of the Menorah). A brazen serpent is lifted up on a rod to heal the people bitten by fiery flying serpents (the Menorah, or Tree of Life, is associated with death, mortality, and a subtle snake in Eden). Balaam prophesies of the Messiah, The Anointed One (olive oil was used to anoint, and was the only fuel source for the Menorah's seven lamps).
Deuteronomy as the Altar of Incense
The Altar of Incense was where the priest burned sweet incense and prayed, morning and evening, for Israel. He interceded on their behalf, and as we read in Luke. Though the priest was isolated in the Temple, others participated in the prayer outside.
Moses recounts his interface with God: "I stood between the Lord and you at that time, to shew you the word of the Lord: for ye were afraid by reason of the fire, and went not up into the mount..." (Deut. 5:5). Moses pled and interceded for Israel the way the priest did in the daily prayers at the Altar of Incense. In Deuteronomy, Moses turns from omniscient third person narrator to first person narrator, facing Israel toe to toe and shaking their shoulders, begging them to obey the Lord.
The fire and cloud are mentioned again in Deuteronomy 1, as well as speaking with the Lord in Mount Horeb. Moses sees the promised land, yet is denied entry, but he charges Joshua. (The priest stood before the Veil when he made the daily prayers with incense, by the entrance to the Holy of Holies, but only the High Priest could enter.) "And ye said, Behold, the Lord our God hath shewed us his glory and his greatness, and we have heard his voice out of the midst of the fire: we have seen this day that God doth talk with man, and he liveth" (Deut. 5:24). Sounds like the Altar of Incense.
They will be healed (Deut. 7:15) (a common thing to pray for). In chapter 27, they are commanded to build an altar. As they pass over the river Jordan (Deut. 27), conditions and covenants regarding blessings and cursings (promises of obedience) are made by all the people. They accept each curse for disobedience by shouting AMEN twelve times as the priests recite the rules (a common benediction for a group at the end of a prayer). Moses pronounces temporal and spiritual blessings (almost a patriarchal blessing) for each tribe. Then Moses disappears from Israel.
Joshua as the Ark
I wonder if Joshua knew what Moses was doing with the composition of each book of the Torah, because his book begins with the Israelites carrying the Ark of the Covenant across the Jordan. The river parts to allow Israel across on dry ground. (I believe this symbolizes parting the Veil and the entry of the High Priest into the Holy of Holies, where the Ark was later housed.) Joshua records dividing Palestine into lands of inheritance for each tribe (this probably represents being blessed after entering the Holy of Holies). In chapter 22, they set up a special altar as a monument near Jordan. No sacrifices or burnt offerings are to be made upon it. (This is a good description of the Ark—an altar, but nothing is sacrificed or burned there.) Phineas the priest then says, "This day we perceive that the Lord is among us..." (Joshua 22:31). (The presence of God was found in the Holy of Holies.) In chapter 24, Joseph's bones brought from Egypt are buried in Shechem. (The name "Ark" comes from a word meaning "sarcophagus.")
A Binding Tie
Nephi wove his life stories and teachings into images evoking the pattern, the floor plan, of the Temple of Solomon. Moses apparently did the same thing on a larger scale with Torah and Tabernacle. Though each book of the Torah contains elements that can (and should) be construed as references to all the articles of Temple furniture, I see each book as primarily belonging to a specific item. Genesis to the Laver, Font, or Brazen Sea; Exodus to the Altar of Sacrifice; Leviticus to the Table of Shewbread; Numbers to the Menorah; Deuteronomy to the Altar of Incense; and probably Joshua to the Holy of Holies.
Rather than ask why any author of scripture would take the time or trouble to use allegorical Temple imagery, I will simply note that this is more strong evidence that the Book of Mormon is what it purports to be—companion scripture with the Bible. This device is found throughout the Bible and Book of Mormon, like strands of the same golden thread in two separate tapestries. Common style indicates common authorship, and this pattern is in both books. The Torah and Book of Mormon share a common source, divine inspiration.
Whether by plainness or through symbols, each points us to Christ, to faith, to repentance, and to the Temple.
In a previous post, I described the presence of what I call "allegorical Temple imagery" in the Book of Mormon. Various segments of the text symbolically connect images or vignettes from an author's life or experiences or teachings to evoke elements of the Old Temple or Tabernacle. This gives the text two layers: an overt, obvious one, and an allegorical one that refers to the various stations of the Tabernacle or Temple of Solomon. It sounds complicated, but once it is explained, it is easily grasped.
The basic concept is that some sections of scripture have multiple layers of meaning. The first layer is the obvious, literal one. But the imagery in this overt layer creates a symbolic layer beneath it—imagery that evokes the Tabernacle or Temple of Solomon. (For instance, fire might refer to the Atlar of Sacrifice; water to the Brazen Sea.)
The Torah
Moses wrote the Torah or "the Law," the first five books in the Bible. I believe that each of these books corresponds to, allegorically alludes to, a specific piece of furniture in the Old Temple or Tabernacle in the wilderness.
Genesis as the Brazen Sea
The first book, Genesis, contains accounts of the creation, mentioning "waters" and "the great deep." All things, humans included, are commanded to reproduce. Genesis tells us who begot whom. It tells of the destruction and death, and rebirth of the world associated with the flood, and Noah's family. The family histories of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and their wives are outlined, leading to the formation of the the Twelve Tribes of Israel. Abraham's servant first meets Isaac's wife, Rebekah, at a well with livestock. Jacob meets Rachel at a well, also with livestock. Joseph is described as a fruitful bough over a well. Taken separately, these things are simply a list of the major themes and events recorded in Genesis. But I believe their inclusion and emphasis was deliberate, because each of these things was meant to evoke a specific image beyond itself—each is a veiled reference to the Brazen Sea.
The ordinance of baptism represents birth, bath, burial and resurrection. The Font represents the womb, too. In Genesis, the earth is "born," followed by all life, and then humans. All are commanded to procreate. The earth is cleansed (buried) in the flood, and the survivors ride out the disaster inside an ark, a kind of coffin. They emerge as life is reborn. Genealogies include accounts of miraculous births, with stories of women bearing children.
Genesis records the creation of the House of Israel, the Twelve Tribes; there are twelve brazen ox sculptures at the base of the Font.
I believe Moses did this deliberately. Are there elements from other parts of the Temple in Genesis? Yes—there are mentions of altars and sacrifice, Joseph stores immeasurable grain to save Egypt, and so on. Can Genesis contain these other elements and still pertain primarily to the Laver or Brazen Sea? Yes. How? Sequence, the order of presentation, and emphasis. There may be water in other parts of the scriptures than Genesis, but a Flood that engulfs the whole world puts more emphasis on Genesis as a representation of the Font.
Exodus as the Altar of Sacrifice
The next book in the Torah is Exodus. Its imagery links it symbolically to the Altar of Sacrifice.
The Israelites begin the story by losing their firstborn sons in a slaughter. Moses is spared, and pulled from the water (sacrifices were ceremonially washed before they were killed) to become a prince. He becomes a shepherd (think sacrificial lamb), sees a burning bush atop a mountain (always a symbol of the Temple in scriptures), and is sent to free the children of Israel from Egypt. (Firstborn sons were to be atoned for at the Temple with the sacrifice of a lamb, or two doves if the family was poor, as with Jesus in Luke.) The Nile is turned to blood. Plagues fail to secure freedom for the Israelites, until God kills the firstborn sons of the Egyptians. The Israelites are spared because the blood of the Paschal Lamb is spread on the lintels and doorposts of their homes (blood was sprinkled on the four corners of the Altar). Burning fire protects Israel as the Twelve Tribes descend into the Red Sea. They go from killing sheep (Altar), to crossing the Red Sea (Laver), to the base of Mount Horeb, Sinai (the structure of the Old Temple). Moses enters Sinai (like the High Priest entering the Temple alone), and returns to find Israel worshiping a metal cow (a Font reference).
There are many references to other parts of the Old Temple in Exodus—manna could be Shewbread, etc. But the sequence that takes us from Laver to Altar continues in the Moses' next book, his allegorical Table of Shewbread.
Leviticus as the Table of Shewbread
The Book of Leviticus may seem like a jumble of rules and regulations by which Israel was supposed to live, the minutiae of the Law of Moses for which many modern Christians hold self-righteous contempt. How does this strange rule book evoke the Table of Shewbread? The Table was set like a modern kitchen table, only with ornate gold and silver vessels. The defining items on the Table were the twelve loaves of shewbread, one for each tribe of Israel. That means a place at the Table for everyone in Israel. It was a place for eating a spiritual meal, highly symbolic (this should strike a cord with Latter-day Saints who gather around the sacrament every Sunday).
Leviticus reads like a cookbook. Throughout it, interspersed with instructions about getting along with each other, are hundreds of references to food, smell, consumption (fire from heaven consumes offerings), cooking, preparation of food, kosher dietary guidelines, instructions for making acceptable sacrifices (more cooking, since many sacrifices were eaten afterward), and prohibitions for priest to imbibe wine. Food references crowd the pages of Leviticus. Chapter 21 even details how the Shewbread is to be offered, and lists the qualifications of anyone who touches or eats it. The "feasts of the Lord" (Lev. 23:6), including Passover, are set established by the Lord in the Hebrew calendar. Tithing of crops, flocks, and herds (all food) are commanded.
Numbers as the Menorah
I was once told that reading the Book of Numbers would cure insomnia. Perhaps readers would open their eyes wider if they were looking for symbols that evoke the Menorah. The Menorah represents the Tree of Life, and so a procreative theme undergirds Numbers.
Moses takes a census of the males old enough to go to battle (the Tree of Life was protected by cherubim and a flaming sword; hormones that enable procreation also amplify aggression). Laws of sexual purity are presented. Light is also prominent, as in the priestly blessing: "The Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee: The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace" (Num. 6:25-26). A cloud rests on the Tabernacle by day, and a pillar of fire by night. Fire from the Lord consumes rebels. (Fire, light and darkness, day and night, are all motifs connected to the Menorah.) Aaron's rod blossoms and yields almonds in chapter 17 (filigree images of almonds decorated the branches of the Menorah). A brazen serpent is lifted up on a rod to heal the people bitten by fiery flying serpents (the Menorah, or Tree of Life, is associated with death, mortality, and a subtle snake in Eden). Balaam prophesies of the Messiah, The Anointed One (olive oil was used to anoint, and was the only fuel source for the Menorah's seven lamps).
Deuteronomy as the Altar of Incense
The Altar of Incense was where the priest burned sweet incense and prayed, morning and evening, for Israel. He interceded on their behalf, and as we read in Luke. Though the priest was isolated in the Temple, others participated in the prayer outside.
Moses recounts his interface with God: "I stood between the Lord and you at that time, to shew you the word of the Lord: for ye were afraid by reason of the fire, and went not up into the mount..." (Deut. 5:5). Moses pled and interceded for Israel the way the priest did in the daily prayers at the Altar of Incense. In Deuteronomy, Moses turns from omniscient third person narrator to first person narrator, facing Israel toe to toe and shaking their shoulders, begging them to obey the Lord.
The fire and cloud are mentioned again in Deuteronomy 1, as well as speaking with the Lord in Mount Horeb. Moses sees the promised land, yet is denied entry, but he charges Joshua. (The priest stood before the Veil when he made the daily prayers with incense, by the entrance to the Holy of Holies, but only the High Priest could enter.) "And ye said, Behold, the Lord our God hath shewed us his glory and his greatness, and we have heard his voice out of the midst of the fire: we have seen this day that God doth talk with man, and he liveth" (Deut. 5:24). Sounds like the Altar of Incense.
They will be healed (Deut. 7:15) (a common thing to pray for). In chapter 27, they are commanded to build an altar. As they pass over the river Jordan (Deut. 27), conditions and covenants regarding blessings and cursings (promises of obedience) are made by all the people. They accept each curse for disobedience by shouting AMEN twelve times as the priests recite the rules (a common benediction for a group at the end of a prayer). Moses pronounces temporal and spiritual blessings (almost a patriarchal blessing) for each tribe. Then Moses disappears from Israel.
Joshua as the Ark
I wonder if Joshua knew what Moses was doing with the composition of each book of the Torah, because his book begins with the Israelites carrying the Ark of the Covenant across the Jordan. The river parts to allow Israel across on dry ground. (I believe this symbolizes parting the Veil and the entry of the High Priest into the Holy of Holies, where the Ark was later housed.) Joshua records dividing Palestine into lands of inheritance for each tribe (this probably represents being blessed after entering the Holy of Holies). In chapter 22, they set up a special altar as a monument near Jordan. No sacrifices or burnt offerings are to be made upon it. (This is a good description of the Ark—an altar, but nothing is sacrificed or burned there.) Phineas the priest then says, "This day we perceive that the Lord is among us..." (Joshua 22:31). (The presence of God was found in the Holy of Holies.) In chapter 24, Joseph's bones brought from Egypt are buried in Shechem. (The name "Ark" comes from a word meaning "sarcophagus.")
A Binding Tie
Nephi wove his life stories and teachings into images evoking the pattern, the floor plan, of the Temple of Solomon. Moses apparently did the same thing on a larger scale with Torah and Tabernacle. Though each book of the Torah contains elements that can (and should) be construed as references to all the articles of Temple furniture, I see each book as primarily belonging to a specific item. Genesis to the Laver, Font, or Brazen Sea; Exodus to the Altar of Sacrifice; Leviticus to the Table of Shewbread; Numbers to the Menorah; Deuteronomy to the Altar of Incense; and probably Joshua to the Holy of Holies.
Rather than ask why any author of scripture would take the time or trouble to use allegorical Temple imagery, I will simply note that this is more strong evidence that the Book of Mormon is what it purports to be—companion scripture with the Bible. This device is found throughout the Bible and Book of Mormon, like strands of the same golden thread in two separate tapestries. Common style indicates common authorship, and this pattern is in both books. The Torah and Book of Mormon share a common source, divine inspiration.
Whether by plainness or through symbols, each points us to Christ, to faith, to repentance, and to the Temple.
Saturday, August 17, 2013
The Matriarch's Line
Direct scriptural quotations from Mother Eve are few and precious. Sparse quotes from Eve do not signify her unimportance; rather, I think the authors of scripture were conforming their narratives to a pre-established template in which a matriarch makes a brief observation about herself, God, and her children, and their interrelationship. Three mothers make such parallel statements in scripture. The similarities between them seem too marked to be accidental.
Eve
Brigham Young taught that when the mouth is open, the mind is on parade. Words from Eve in the scriptures give us a glimpse into her heart and mind. In Moses 5:11, we hear her own voice, not someone talking to her, or about her: “And Eve, [Adam’s] wife, heard all these things and was glad, saying: Were it not for our transgression we never should have had seed, and never should have known good and evil, and the joy of our redemption, and the eternal life which God giveth unto all the obedient.”
The first thing that strikes me as I read this quote is her use of plural pronouns. With Adam (in verse 10), it is “I” and “my;” with Eve it is “we” and “our.” She concurs with his sentiments, but in an inclusive way. It is also strange to my Latter-day Saint ears to hear them rejoice about transgression. The Eden narrative seems simple on its face, but the more one studies it, the more cognitive complexity it requires of us. Transgression a necessary element of the plan? Putting the forbidden fruit in the garden? Letting Satan tempt childish, innocent beings? It baffles the mind. What was the Lord up to? Surely (and thankfully) His thoughts are higher than ours.
But Eve is not celebrating sin; she speaks of the joy of redemption and eternal life God gives the obedient. It seems almost as if she is implying that the Lord gave them two contradictory commandments, and they had to break one initially (don’t eat the forbidden fruit) to keep the other fully (have children). Why else would she exult about joy through obedience and transgression in the same breath? She also speaks of acquiring the ability to discern good from evil.
Perhaps most dear to her heart, the very first outcome of the Fall she mentions, is “seed,” her children.
Her emotional valence in this brief quote is joy and exultation. She is glad; she has kids; she has wisdom; she rejoices in redemption and eventual exaltation; she notes her part in the plan, being “obedient.” These are some basic elements of Eve’s mind and heart we can derive from this precious, brief statement.
Sariah
Sariah, the wife of Lehi, also gets precious little airtime in the scriptures. Her brief statements center around the same themes as Eve’s.
In 1Ne. 5:2, she tells her husband, “Behold thou hast led us forth from the land of our inheritance, and my sons are no more, and we perish in the wilderness.” This is reminiscent of Adam’s and Eve’s expulsion from the Garden. Lehi and Sariah are driven from their comfortable, richly furnished home on pain of death; Adam and Eve are driven from the garden, knowing their expulsion included a death sentence. Both couples take the bare minimum of essentials with them into their respective wildernesses.
She is anxious about her sons, but Sariah ultimately rejoices in verse 8: “And she spake, saying: Now I know of a surety that the Lord hath commanded my husband to flee in to the wilderness; yea, and I also know of a surety that the Lord hath protected my sons, and delivered them out of the hands of Laban, and given them power whereby they could accomplish the thing which the Lord hath commanded them. And after this manner of language did she speak.”
She is glad like Eve; she speaks of her children like Eve; she speaks of newly acquired knowledge like Eve; she rejoices in the Lord’s power to redeem and deliver; she notes the importance of being obedient to the Lord’s commandments. 1Ne. 5:8 parallels Moses 5:11.
The Earth
A third (and highly unlikely) matriarch makes a statement too similar to Eve’s to be mere coincidence. The earth itself speaks in a vision of Enoch. The following verse stretches the imagination: “And it came to pass that Enoch looked upon the earth; and he heard a voice from the bowels thereof, saying: Wo, wo is me, the mother of men; I am pained, I am weary, because of the wickedness of my children. When shall I rest, and be cleansed from the filthiness which is gone forth out of me? When will my Creator sanctify me, that I may rest, and righteousness for a season abide upon my face?” (Moses 7:48). This is not a direct command to alter behavior; it is an oblique plea, a “hint” to us.First, a few explanatory notes.
How can the earth speak? Is this literal? I believe it is. There seems to be abundant evidence in the scriptures that everything, even things we typically think of as unconscious, unaware, and inanimate, truly have a measure of consciousness, awareness, and intelligence in them, the power to respond to God’s instructions.
Many consider the Pearl of Great Price to be an interesting, yet non-essential scripture, a kind of freakish curiosity in the standard works meant to keep intellectuals occupied. Who would be surprised that it would speak of exotic things, e.g. sentient lumps of matter? They prefer the plain and precious Book of Mormon. No challenging ideas there. There is nothing superfluous in the Book of Mormon, no planets talking or Adam being baptized or giants or other oddities like that. And yet it also teaches plainly that matter obeys God.
In Helaman 12:7-26, Mormon laments the nothingness of man. “O how great is the nothingness of the children of men; yea, even they are less than the dust of the earth.” Why are we lower than dirt? “For behold, the dust of the earth moveth hither and thither, to the dividing asunder, at the command of the great and everlasting God...Yea, behold at his voice do the hills and the mountains tremble and quake.” Verse 13 makes it plain that the matter is actually comprehending and complying: “Yea, and if he say unto the earth—Move—it is moved. Yea, if he say unto the earth—Thou shalt go back, that it lengthen out the day for many hours—it is done...if he say unto the waters of the great deep—Be thou dried up—it is done...if he say unto this mountain—Be thou raised up, and come over and fall upon that city, that it be buried up—behold it is done” (Hel. 12:7-17). The Lord calls the things in these verses “thou” (hey, you!) and instructs them as to what to do. The Lord speaks to humans using the same word—thou—in verses 20 and 21.
This concept of inanimate things obeying commands is abundant. The sun and moon obey Joshua (Joshua 10:12-14); Nephi tells his brothers that, with God’s permission, he could tell water to become dirt (1Ne. 17:50); the Lord tells a later Nephi that temples and mountains will crumble and move at his command (Hel. 10:8-9); Jacob says that in the name of Jesus, trees, mountains, and seas obey him, and that God commands the earth and the things on its face (Jacob 4:6, 9); waters obey Moses as if he was God (Moses 1:25).
Unlike Eve, the earth is lamenting, but it is still focused on its kids; it anticipates redemption and eventual exaltation for itself and its children; it notes its part in the plan, and cites the promises of God. Eve and Sariah get one solid verse and a few fragments elsewhere; this mother has only one verse. Like the rest of us, whatever consciousness the earth has is ultimately celestial in origin, and will not be satisfied until it returns home to its native environment. The earth, like Eve and Sariah, has been kicked out of its native land, and must wander and die in the wilderness.
The parallels between these three verses are part of a pattern, and this is an important line. Enoch, Moses, and Nephi seem to be depending on a recipe for scriptural composition in their accounts: Each speaker is a matriarch. The emotional state of each is discussed. Each one speaks of her part in the larger plan of salvation. Each notes the importance of obedience. Each one speaks of acquired knowledge, or testimony, about the Lord’s mercy. Each one has intense feelings, joy or pain, regarding their offspring. And each quote is brief.
Lessons
Elder Oaks encouraged us to include a “therefore what?” in our talks—these ideas may be true, but what’s the point? What can we learn from this? There are direct instructions in scripture (like the Decalogue). But there are general principles that can be gleaned from scripture, even without overt commands.
Sariah exemplifies great faith with her willingness to follow the current prophet (even if he happens to be her husband). She echoes Nephi’s statement that when the Lord commands, He prepares a way to accomplish what He commands.
Eve talks of “our” and “we,” and “all the obedient.” Joy is incomplete until it is shared. She is able to rejoice despite their fallen circumstances, because she knows the eventual solution for death and sin—the “joy of our redemption, and the eternal life which God giveth unto all the obedient.” She finds happiness in dreary surroundings with her faith, her bright anticipation of a better world. She knew the Savior would redeem us from the Fall.
Jesus’ ministry included the performance of miracles. While these miracles blessed individuals, they also foreshadowed the eventual reversal of the Fall. Death, disease, pain, laboring for food, were all physical consequences of Adam and Eve’s choice in the Garden, and Jesus’ miracles alleviated these physical burdens, if only in isolated circumstances for a few individuals. They demonstrated His power to restore the earth to its paradisaical glory. He also removed spiritual problems. Sin, misery, harassment by Satan, and separation from God were spiritual consequences of the Fall. Jesus told the paralytic his sins were forgiven (spiritual) before He commanded him to arise and walk (physical) (see Mark 2:1-12). Eve rejoiced that sin and physical ailments would one day be permanently and universally healed by the Savior.
What can we learn from the earth’s statement? It seems to be pleading for the annihilation of the human race itself, and Enoch knew the flood was coming. But Enoch interceded, begged, on behalf of the human family and the earth. Out of the interchange between the earth, Enoch, and God, a decision was reached. The solution to the problem was 1. The Lord would stay the floods and “call upon” us to repent; 2. The Messiah would be a descendant of Enoch and Noah, and He would eventually cleanse the earth. Humanity would be spared for a while. Before the destruction at the Second Coming, the Restoration would provide the world with the opportunity to hear the gospel and repent. Then the millennial reign of the Savior would bring peace to the earth, and to those who were saved.
When something is repeated in the scriptures, it must be important. These verses show us three witnesses for God. Ultimately, these three mothers teach us about joy—joy that comes when we obey God and trust His plan.
Eve
Brigham Young taught that when the mouth is open, the mind is on parade. Words from Eve in the scriptures give us a glimpse into her heart and mind. In Moses 5:11, we hear her own voice, not someone talking to her, or about her: “And Eve, [Adam’s] wife, heard all these things and was glad, saying: Were it not for our transgression we never should have had seed, and never should have known good and evil, and the joy of our redemption, and the eternal life which God giveth unto all the obedient.”
The first thing that strikes me as I read this quote is her use of plural pronouns. With Adam (in verse 10), it is “I” and “my;” with Eve it is “we” and “our.” She concurs with his sentiments, but in an inclusive way. It is also strange to my Latter-day Saint ears to hear them rejoice about transgression. The Eden narrative seems simple on its face, but the more one studies it, the more cognitive complexity it requires of us. Transgression a necessary element of the plan? Putting the forbidden fruit in the garden? Letting Satan tempt childish, innocent beings? It baffles the mind. What was the Lord up to? Surely (and thankfully) His thoughts are higher than ours.
But Eve is not celebrating sin; she speaks of the joy of redemption and eternal life God gives the obedient. It seems almost as if she is implying that the Lord gave them two contradictory commandments, and they had to break one initially (don’t eat the forbidden fruit) to keep the other fully (have children). Why else would she exult about joy through obedience and transgression in the same breath? She also speaks of acquiring the ability to discern good from evil.
Perhaps most dear to her heart, the very first outcome of the Fall she mentions, is “seed,” her children.
Her emotional valence in this brief quote is joy and exultation. She is glad; she has kids; she has wisdom; she rejoices in redemption and eventual exaltation; she notes her part in the plan, being “obedient.” These are some basic elements of Eve’s mind and heart we can derive from this precious, brief statement.
Sariah
Sariah, the wife of Lehi, also gets precious little airtime in the scriptures. Her brief statements center around the same themes as Eve’s.
In 1Ne. 5:2, she tells her husband, “Behold thou hast led us forth from the land of our inheritance, and my sons are no more, and we perish in the wilderness.” This is reminiscent of Adam’s and Eve’s expulsion from the Garden. Lehi and Sariah are driven from their comfortable, richly furnished home on pain of death; Adam and Eve are driven from the garden, knowing their expulsion included a death sentence. Both couples take the bare minimum of essentials with them into their respective wildernesses.
She is anxious about her sons, but Sariah ultimately rejoices in verse 8: “And she spake, saying: Now I know of a surety that the Lord hath commanded my husband to flee in to the wilderness; yea, and I also know of a surety that the Lord hath protected my sons, and delivered them out of the hands of Laban, and given them power whereby they could accomplish the thing which the Lord hath commanded them. And after this manner of language did she speak.”
She is glad like Eve; she speaks of her children like Eve; she speaks of newly acquired knowledge like Eve; she rejoices in the Lord’s power to redeem and deliver; she notes the importance of being obedient to the Lord’s commandments. 1Ne. 5:8 parallels Moses 5:11.
The Earth
A third (and highly unlikely) matriarch makes a statement too similar to Eve’s to be mere coincidence. The earth itself speaks in a vision of Enoch. The following verse stretches the imagination: “And it came to pass that Enoch looked upon the earth; and he heard a voice from the bowels thereof, saying: Wo, wo is me, the mother of men; I am pained, I am weary, because of the wickedness of my children. When shall I rest, and be cleansed from the filthiness which is gone forth out of me? When will my Creator sanctify me, that I may rest, and righteousness for a season abide upon my face?” (Moses 7:48). This is not a direct command to alter behavior; it is an oblique plea, a “hint” to us.First, a few explanatory notes.
How can the earth speak? Is this literal? I believe it is. There seems to be abundant evidence in the scriptures that everything, even things we typically think of as unconscious, unaware, and inanimate, truly have a measure of consciousness, awareness, and intelligence in them, the power to respond to God’s instructions.
Many consider the Pearl of Great Price to be an interesting, yet non-essential scripture, a kind of freakish curiosity in the standard works meant to keep intellectuals occupied. Who would be surprised that it would speak of exotic things, e.g. sentient lumps of matter? They prefer the plain and precious Book of Mormon. No challenging ideas there. There is nothing superfluous in the Book of Mormon, no planets talking or Adam being baptized or giants or other oddities like that. And yet it also teaches plainly that matter obeys God.
In Helaman 12:7-26, Mormon laments the nothingness of man. “O how great is the nothingness of the children of men; yea, even they are less than the dust of the earth.” Why are we lower than dirt? “For behold, the dust of the earth moveth hither and thither, to the dividing asunder, at the command of the great and everlasting God...Yea, behold at his voice do the hills and the mountains tremble and quake.” Verse 13 makes it plain that the matter is actually comprehending and complying: “Yea, and if he say unto the earth—Move—it is moved. Yea, if he say unto the earth—Thou shalt go back, that it lengthen out the day for many hours—it is done...if he say unto the waters of the great deep—Be thou dried up—it is done...if he say unto this mountain—Be thou raised up, and come over and fall upon that city, that it be buried up—behold it is done” (Hel. 12:7-17). The Lord calls the things in these verses “thou” (hey, you!) and instructs them as to what to do. The Lord speaks to humans using the same word—thou—in verses 20 and 21.
This concept of inanimate things obeying commands is abundant. The sun and moon obey Joshua (Joshua 10:12-14); Nephi tells his brothers that, with God’s permission, he could tell water to become dirt (1Ne. 17:50); the Lord tells a later Nephi that temples and mountains will crumble and move at his command (Hel. 10:8-9); Jacob says that in the name of Jesus, trees, mountains, and seas obey him, and that God commands the earth and the things on its face (Jacob 4:6, 9); waters obey Moses as if he was God (Moses 1:25).
Unlike Eve, the earth is lamenting, but it is still focused on its kids; it anticipates redemption and eventual exaltation for itself and its children; it notes its part in the plan, and cites the promises of God. Eve and Sariah get one solid verse and a few fragments elsewhere; this mother has only one verse. Like the rest of us, whatever consciousness the earth has is ultimately celestial in origin, and will not be satisfied until it returns home to its native environment. The earth, like Eve and Sariah, has been kicked out of its native land, and must wander and die in the wilderness.
The parallels between these three verses are part of a pattern, and this is an important line. Enoch, Moses, and Nephi seem to be depending on a recipe for scriptural composition in their accounts: Each speaker is a matriarch. The emotional state of each is discussed. Each one speaks of her part in the larger plan of salvation. Each notes the importance of obedience. Each one speaks of acquired knowledge, or testimony, about the Lord’s mercy. Each one has intense feelings, joy or pain, regarding their offspring. And each quote is brief.
Lessons
Elder Oaks encouraged us to include a “therefore what?” in our talks—these ideas may be true, but what’s the point? What can we learn from this? There are direct instructions in scripture (like the Decalogue). But there are general principles that can be gleaned from scripture, even without overt commands.
Sariah exemplifies great faith with her willingness to follow the current prophet (even if he happens to be her husband). She echoes Nephi’s statement that when the Lord commands, He prepares a way to accomplish what He commands.
Eve talks of “our” and “we,” and “all the obedient.” Joy is incomplete until it is shared. She is able to rejoice despite their fallen circumstances, because she knows the eventual solution for death and sin—the “joy of our redemption, and the eternal life which God giveth unto all the obedient.” She finds happiness in dreary surroundings with her faith, her bright anticipation of a better world. She knew the Savior would redeem us from the Fall.
Jesus’ ministry included the performance of miracles. While these miracles blessed individuals, they also foreshadowed the eventual reversal of the Fall. Death, disease, pain, laboring for food, were all physical consequences of Adam and Eve’s choice in the Garden, and Jesus’ miracles alleviated these physical burdens, if only in isolated circumstances for a few individuals. They demonstrated His power to restore the earth to its paradisaical glory. He also removed spiritual problems. Sin, misery, harassment by Satan, and separation from God were spiritual consequences of the Fall. Jesus told the paralytic his sins were forgiven (spiritual) before He commanded him to arise and walk (physical) (see Mark 2:1-12). Eve rejoiced that sin and physical ailments would one day be permanently and universally healed by the Savior.
What can we learn from the earth’s statement? It seems to be pleading for the annihilation of the human race itself, and Enoch knew the flood was coming. But Enoch interceded, begged, on behalf of the human family and the earth. Out of the interchange between the earth, Enoch, and God, a decision was reached. The solution to the problem was 1. The Lord would stay the floods and “call upon” us to repent; 2. The Messiah would be a descendant of Enoch and Noah, and He would eventually cleanse the earth. Humanity would be spared for a while. Before the destruction at the Second Coming, the Restoration would provide the world with the opportunity to hear the gospel and repent. Then the millennial reign of the Savior would bring peace to the earth, and to those who were saved.
When something is repeated in the scriptures, it must be important. These verses show us three witnesses for God. Ultimately, these three mothers teach us about joy—joy that comes when we obey God and trust His plan.
Friday, August 9, 2013
Willing
As a missionary, I was taught to concentrate the majority of my efforts on methods that were "more effective," and spend less time on those that are "less effective." Knocking on doors is a less effective way of finding people to teach, though it can work. Asking for, and receiving, referrals from members is a more effective way of finding people to teach.
If we are commanded to meet together once a week to partake of the sacrament, this ordinance must be a "more effective" way of bringing about our immortality and eternal life, or why else do it so often?
Repetition is a double-edged sword—it can help us remember, or render what we repeat meaningless. Asking questions about the ordinance of the sacrament can undo the mechanical or perfunctory observance of this ordinance we slip into, and deepen our understanding. I found a note on the ground years ago, apparently passed between two members who were partaking of the sacrament. The note essentially asked why the promised blessing with the bread is that we "may always have his Spirit to be with [us]," while the promise with the water is simply that we "may have his Spirit to be with [us]."
That is a great question to answer later, and elsewhere.
I want to point out here that everything we commit to in the sacrament has a matching action by Jesus Christ. In the prayer on the bread, we signify our willingness to do three things:
"O God, the Eternal Father, we ask thee in the name of thy Son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this bread to the souls of all those who partake of it, that they may eat in remembrance of the body of thy Son, and witness unto thee, O God, the Eternal Father, that they are willing to (1) take upon them the name of thy Son, and (2) always remember him and (3) keep his commandments which he has given them; that they may always have his Spirit to be with them. Amen."
There is a difference between being willing to do something, and committing or promising to do something. In the prayer on the water, we actually promise to do something:
"O God, the Eternal Father, we ask thee in the name of thy Son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this water to the souls of all those who drink of it, that they may do it in remembrance of the blood of thy Son, which was shed for them; that they may witness unto thee, O God, the Eternal Father, that they do always remember him, that they may have his Spirit to be with them. Amen."
Elder Bednar surprised the many when he pointed out that we do not actually take the name of Christ upon ourselves when we partake of the sacrament; that happens in the Temple. Rather, we demonstrate by partaking of the sacrament that we are willing to take his name upon ourselves.
There is a corresponding act on His part as well. When we take the name of Christ upon ourselves, we become eligible to inherit everything He merited—"all that my Father hath" (D&C 84:38). He took our names, in other words, our reputations and guilt, upon Himself when He suffered and died for our sins. "But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed" (Isa. 53:5).
We witness that we will always remember Him. Jesus speaks through Isaiah, and tells us, "Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee. Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me" (Isa. 49:15-16). He constantly remembers us.
We show our willingness to keep His commandments which He has given to us. You might suppose this is surely a one way street. But John records what Jesus taught at the very first sacrament meeting—the last supper: "And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If ye shall ask any thing in my name, I will do it" (John 14:13-14). God will give us any good thing we ask of Him.
Jesus has done, or will actually do, everything for us that He asks us to do for Him. The sacrament prayers commit us to be willing to do certain things; Jesus will actually do them for us when we qualify to receive them.
As far as contractual language goes, a lawyer might tell you that the use of the word "willing" in the prayer on the bread makes the conditions of this contract as open as a sieve. If behavior were the main focus of the covenant, this would be true. When we sign mortal contracts, they pertain mainly to commitments to act, to do certain things, or face penalties. The banker does not care whether you submit your cash joyfully or grudgingly, as long as you pay your debt by the deadline.
But the word "willing" in the prayer on the bread shifts the focus from our behavior to our attitude—are we willing to do those things? "Willing" has few synonyms. "Ready," "eager," "prepared," "voluntary," "disposed," "consenting," "inclined," all strike near the meaning of the word, but do not quite capture its essence. "...with cheerful readiness" is a summary description, not a synonym. Why are we granted to "always have" the Spirit with us for merely being eager, ready, for wanting to serve?
Consider the contrast between Nephi on the one hand, and Laman and Lemuel on the other. Laman and Lemuel's behavior eventually aligned with what they were asked to do, though they had to be electrocuted like lab rats to elicit the proper response. They left their home at Jerusalem, went back for the plates, went back for the daughters of Ishmael, crossed the desert, helped Nephi build a boat, crossed the ocean, and finally arrived at the promised land. Nephi also did all those things. Why do we think of Laman and Lemuel as scoundrels? Because they were unwilling participants. They rebelled, but we all do that—we all misbehave at some point, and hopefully correct our course in the end. But Laman and Lemuel were internally rebellious in the end, the opposite of willing. They moaned and complained the whole way, dragging their feet and doubting. Nephi chided them for being "hard in their hearts, and blind in their minds" (1Ne. 7:8).
Their internal state disqualified them from enjoying the Spirit, even though they ultimately obeyed all the orders they received. We often quote 1Ne. 3:7, and rightly so. We can expect divine assistance to accomplish what He commands us to do. But we often neglect 1Ne. 3:6: "Therefore go, my son, and thou shalt be favored of the Lord, because thou hast not murmured." Attitude counts big with the Lord.
The more I learn, the more it seems that the external world is basically already how God wants it, the way He created it. Repentance does involve trying to change this outer world, but that is merely the tip of the iceberg. The vast majority of what we are supposed to be changing is internal—our hearts and minds, our attitudes. It is the internal mess that is our primary responsibility.
That is not to say behavior is unimportant. All sins will impede spiritual progress. But there is a difference between tripping over our shoelaces and open rebellion. We may be out of the open rebellion phase of breaking the Ten Commandments, but what about that middle phase? Our imperfect minds and weak bodies are always obstacles to perfect observance of commandments, even when we try.
The Gospel seems to accommodate our inevitable stumbling with provision made for our weakness. When the best we can do falls short, if we are willing we can still "always" enjoy having "his Spirit" to be with us.
If we are commanded to meet together once a week to partake of the sacrament, this ordinance must be a "more effective" way of bringing about our immortality and eternal life, or why else do it so often?
Repetition is a double-edged sword—it can help us remember, or render what we repeat meaningless. Asking questions about the ordinance of the sacrament can undo the mechanical or perfunctory observance of this ordinance we slip into, and deepen our understanding. I found a note on the ground years ago, apparently passed between two members who were partaking of the sacrament. The note essentially asked why the promised blessing with the bread is that we "may always have his Spirit to be with [us]," while the promise with the water is simply that we "may have his Spirit to be with [us]."
That is a great question to answer later, and elsewhere.
I want to point out here that everything we commit to in the sacrament has a matching action by Jesus Christ. In the prayer on the bread, we signify our willingness to do three things:
"O God, the Eternal Father, we ask thee in the name of thy Son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this bread to the souls of all those who partake of it, that they may eat in remembrance of the body of thy Son, and witness unto thee, O God, the Eternal Father, that they are willing to (1) take upon them the name of thy Son, and (2) always remember him and (3) keep his commandments which he has given them; that they may always have his Spirit to be with them. Amen."
There is a difference between being willing to do something, and committing or promising to do something. In the prayer on the water, we actually promise to do something:
"O God, the Eternal Father, we ask thee in the name of thy Son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this water to the souls of all those who drink of it, that they may do it in remembrance of the blood of thy Son, which was shed for them; that they may witness unto thee, O God, the Eternal Father, that they do always remember him, that they may have his Spirit to be with them. Amen."
Elder Bednar surprised the many when he pointed out that we do not actually take the name of Christ upon ourselves when we partake of the sacrament; that happens in the Temple. Rather, we demonstrate by partaking of the sacrament that we are willing to take his name upon ourselves.
There is a corresponding act on His part as well. When we take the name of Christ upon ourselves, we become eligible to inherit everything He merited—"all that my Father hath" (D&C 84:38). He took our names, in other words, our reputations and guilt, upon Himself when He suffered and died for our sins. "But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed" (Isa. 53:5).
We witness that we will always remember Him. Jesus speaks through Isaiah, and tells us, "Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee. Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me" (Isa. 49:15-16). He constantly remembers us.
We show our willingness to keep His commandments which He has given to us. You might suppose this is surely a one way street. But John records what Jesus taught at the very first sacrament meeting—the last supper: "And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If ye shall ask any thing in my name, I will do it" (John 14:13-14). God will give us any good thing we ask of Him.
Jesus has done, or will actually do, everything for us that He asks us to do for Him. The sacrament prayers commit us to be willing to do certain things; Jesus will actually do them for us when we qualify to receive them.
As far as contractual language goes, a lawyer might tell you that the use of the word "willing" in the prayer on the bread makes the conditions of this contract as open as a sieve. If behavior were the main focus of the covenant, this would be true. When we sign mortal contracts, they pertain mainly to commitments to act, to do certain things, or face penalties. The banker does not care whether you submit your cash joyfully or grudgingly, as long as you pay your debt by the deadline.
But the word "willing" in the prayer on the bread shifts the focus from our behavior to our attitude—are we willing to do those things? "Willing" has few synonyms. "Ready," "eager," "prepared," "voluntary," "disposed," "consenting," "inclined," all strike near the meaning of the word, but do not quite capture its essence. "...with cheerful readiness" is a summary description, not a synonym. Why are we granted to "always have" the Spirit with us for merely being eager, ready, for wanting to serve?
Consider the contrast between Nephi on the one hand, and Laman and Lemuel on the other. Laman and Lemuel's behavior eventually aligned with what they were asked to do, though they had to be electrocuted like lab rats to elicit the proper response. They left their home at Jerusalem, went back for the plates, went back for the daughters of Ishmael, crossed the desert, helped Nephi build a boat, crossed the ocean, and finally arrived at the promised land. Nephi also did all those things. Why do we think of Laman and Lemuel as scoundrels? Because they were unwilling participants. They rebelled, but we all do that—we all misbehave at some point, and hopefully correct our course in the end. But Laman and Lemuel were internally rebellious in the end, the opposite of willing. They moaned and complained the whole way, dragging their feet and doubting. Nephi chided them for being "hard in their hearts, and blind in their minds" (1Ne. 7:8).
Their internal state disqualified them from enjoying the Spirit, even though they ultimately obeyed all the orders they received. We often quote 1Ne. 3:7, and rightly so. We can expect divine assistance to accomplish what He commands us to do. But we often neglect 1Ne. 3:6: "Therefore go, my son, and thou shalt be favored of the Lord, because thou hast not murmured." Attitude counts big with the Lord.
The more I learn, the more it seems that the external world is basically already how God wants it, the way He created it. Repentance does involve trying to change this outer world, but that is merely the tip of the iceberg. The vast majority of what we are supposed to be changing is internal—our hearts and minds, our attitudes. It is the internal mess that is our primary responsibility.
That is not to say behavior is unimportant. All sins will impede spiritual progress. But there is a difference between tripping over our shoelaces and open rebellion. We may be out of the open rebellion phase of breaking the Ten Commandments, but what about that middle phase? Our imperfect minds and weak bodies are always obstacles to perfect observance of commandments, even when we try.
The Gospel seems to accommodate our inevitable stumbling with provision made for our weakness. When the best we can do falls short, if we are willing we can still "always" enjoy having "his Spirit" to be with us.
Monday, August 5, 2013
Modesty
Modesty would be irrelevant if each world had only one inhabitant. The concept of modesty exists because we do not live on our own private planet. Any good definition of modesty must depend on the reality of relationships, the inevitable effect we have on each other.
Latter-day Saints are taught to be modest. Nascent solipsism in modern U.S. culture often influences North American Latter-day Saint thinking and behavior. In the prevailing culture, all questions revolve around the focal point of self—what's in it for me, how will it affect me, my, mine, etc. Hardly any attention is given to possible effects on others. We seem to join Cain in his cynical quip, "Am I my brother's keeper?" I believe such thinking has influenced LDS notions about the principle of modesty. As though we keep commandments only for our own benefit. Nevertheless, being modest benefits us as well as others.
The following definition of modest is from the Dress and Appearance section of the 2011 For the Strength of Youth Pamphlet:
"Do not use a special occasion as an excuse to be immodest. When you dress immodestly, you send a message that is contrary to your identity as a son or daughter of God. You also send the message that you are using your body to get attention and approval.
"Immodest clothing is any clothing that is tight, sheer, or revealing in any other manner. Young women should avoid short shorts and short skirts, shirts that do not cover the stomach, and clothing that does not cover the shoulders or is low-cut in the front or the back. Young men should also maintain modesty in their appearance. Young men and young women should be neat and clean and avoid being extreme or inappropriately casual in clothing, hairstyle, and behavior. They should choose appropriately modest apparel when participating in sports. The fashions of the world will change, but the Lord’s standards will not change.
"Show respect for the Lord and yourself by dressing appropriately for Church meetings and activities. This is especially important when attending sacrament services. Young men should dress with dignity when officiating in the ordinance of the sacrament.
"If you are not sure what is appropriate to wear, study the words of the prophets, pray for guidance, and ask your parents or leaders for help. Your dress and appearance now will help you prepare for the time when you will go to the temple to make sacred covenants with God. Ask yourself, 'Would I feel comfortable with my appearance if I were in the Lord’s presence?'"
The precise definition of "modesty" is not so easy to pin down. There is wiggle room for interpretation. If there were numerous exact rules, and modesty police, we would be carrying measuring tapes and yardsticks around with us everywhere like the Pharisees of Jesus' day. We would become the army of "prudes" President Hinckley wanted to avoid creating.
While definitions of immodesty vary from person to person, if we choose to define modesty in terms of "how does this affect me?" without considering "how will this affect others?" we are missing the point of modesty—that we share this world, and do have some responsibility for our effect on other people. Here is my current personal definition of modesty:
To be modest means modifying one's attitude, actions, dress, and language in the attempt to have the best possible effect on the spiritual well being of other people.
"Wherefore, all things which are good cometh of God; and that which is evil cometh of the devil; for the devil is an enemy unto God, and fighteth against him continually, and inviteth and enticeth to sin, and to do that which is evil continually. But behold, that which is of God inviteth and enticeth to do good continually; wherefore, every thing which inviteth and enticeth to do good, and to love God, and to serve him, is inspired of God" (Moroni 7:12-13). The ways we talk, act, dress, and our attitudes, do not force anyone to do anything. But they are looming advertisements for others to think, feel, and act. What are we inviting others to do?
My definition of modesty says nothing about skirt length, etc. It presupposes a certain degree of wisdom in us. "For behold, it is not meet that I should command in all things; for he that is compelled in all things, the same is a slothful and not a wise servant; wherefore he receiveth no reward" (D&C 58:26). When we are obedient, true to the light we possess, we can receive more; we will be blessed "with commandments not a few" (D&C 59:4).
Specific descriptions of how to dress modestly are found only in a publication addressed to the youth. We lack this knowledge until it is taught.
What level of responsibility will we be held to for the thoughts and resulting actions of others we influence here in mortality? It is possible to do everything right and still elicit unintended or undesirable responses from others. (It is also possible to try to pull others in the wrong direction and fail.) Scriptural verbs such as "invite," "entice," and "persuade" all imply agency in one party, and non-compulsory salesmanship in the other. They make it clear that we are to do the best we can to have a positive impact, but that others are ultimately responsible for their thoughts, choices, and acts. If we do our part and are modest, we are absolved of our responsibility.
It is possible to be immodest unwittingly. The Lord surely approaches such things with mercy and compassion and understanding, and so should we. My use of the word "attempt" in my definition was deliberate.
I was told a story about an American dignitary who visited another continent. When standing before an audience, he put his thumbs and forefingers together in circles, raised his arms, and made the "OK" signal to his audience. But it was considered an obscene gesture in that country, and they chased him out of town. I imagine our responsibility in the final judgment with regard to modesty, and our overall effect on others, will deal largely with our intent instead of the reactions we elicited.
While modern prophets have implored the youth to dress and act modestly (sometimes to no avail), direct commands in the scriptures—"thou shalt dress modestly"—are almost nonexistent. Paul expresses a wish that women would dress modestly (1Tim. 2:9). Adam and Eve are given modest clothes to cover themselves. But instead of direct commands and detailed regulations, the scriptures often teach about modesty via sad narrative warnings about the dangers of dressing and acting immodestly.
The story of the daughter of Jared is among these sad tales. She was a prototype of the liberated modern woman—cunning, intelligent, ambitious, ruthless, and physically attractive. Not fettered by the clunky, outdated social codes of the 1950s (the story is over three thousand years old), she devised a plan to restore her dethroned father to power:
"Now the daughter of Jared being exceedingly expert, and seeing the sorrows of her father, thought to devise a plan whereby she could redeem the kingdom unto her father. Now the daughter of Jared was exceedingly fair. And it came to pass that she did talk with her father, and said unto him: Whereby hath my father so much sorrow? Hath he not read the record which our fathers brought across the great deep? Behold, is there not an account concerning them of old, that they by their secret plans did obtain kingdoms and great glory? And now, therefore, let my father send for Akish, the son of Kimnor; and behold, I am fair, and I will dance before him, and I will please him, that he will desire me to wife; wherefore if he shall desire of thee that ye shall give unto him me to wife, then shall ye say: I will give her if ye will bring unto me the head of my father, the king" (Ether 8:8-10).
Seems she was also immodest in speech, a braggart.
Her plan succeeded at first, but then backfired when her husband grew jealous of her father, and had him killed, too. After Akish ascended to the throne, he became afraid that his son would try to dethrone him, and had him killed also. His remaining sons fought a war against him. There is no epilogue for Mrs. Akish, the daughter of King Jared, but I imagine even her callous heart could not help but be wrenched by the sight of her immediate family soaked in each others' blood. Her aspirations went up like a firework, enjoyed one glorious moment, and disappeared with a loud bang in a cloud of smoke.
There are accounts of modesty, too. Contrast the tragic narrative above with the story of Rebekah.
Abraham sends his servant out to look for a wife for Isaac. He causes his servant to swear not to bring an idolatrous Canaanite woman back from his wife-hunting trip. The servant arrives at a city:
"And he made his camels to kneel down without the city by a well of water at the time of the evening, even the time that women go out to draw water. And he said, O Lord God of my master Abraham, I pray thee, send me good speed this day, and shew kindness unto my master Abraham. Behold, I stand here by the well of water; and the daughters of the men of the city come out to draw water: And let it come to pass, that the damsel to whom I shall say, Let down thy pitcher, I pray thee, that I may drink; and she shall say, Drink, and I will give thy camels drink also: let the same be she that thou hast appointed for thy servant Isaac; and thereby shall I know that thou hast shewed kindness unto my master."
This was no small thing. A herd of camels just finishing a trip would require hundreds of gallons of water. I am told a flight of stairs had to be traversed in order to reach water in this particular well. This would be like asking a stranger today to wash your dirty RV after a long road trip. A woman who performed this task would need athletic ability, as well as altruism and humility. Rebekah would have been a mess of mud after watering those animals.
"And it came to pass, before he had done speaking, that, behold, Rebekah came out...with her pitcher upon her shoulder. And the damsel was very fair to look upon, a virgin, neither had any man known her: and she went down to the well, and filled her pitcher, and came up. And the servant ran to meet her, and said, Let me, I pray thee, drink a little water of thy pitcher. And she said, Drink, my lord: and she hasted, and let down her pitcher upon her hand, and gave him drink. And when she had done giving him drink, she said, I will draw water for thy camels also, until they have done drinking. And she hasted, and emptied her pitcher into the trough, and ran again unto the well to draw water, and drew for all his camels" (Gen. 24:11-20).
While the account says nothing of her clothes during her initial encounter with Abraham's servant, it does say something later on. The servant brings Rebekah home to Isaac, she sees him in the distance, and "therefore she took a veil, and covered herself" (Gen. 24:65). At her home the servant told her of Abraham's wealth, and that Isaac was to inherit it, and puts expensive jewelry on her as tokens thereof. But she was already part of a wealthy household (big enough to corral a caravan of camels and provide food and lodging for the travelers). Far from ambitions of power, wealth, prestige, and ease, her actions identify her as willing to serve others. Can you imagine the shrewd daughter of Jared volunteering to join a bucket brigade and hauling hundreds of gallons of water to slop camels for a complete stranger? Rebekah's external modesty is matched by her internal virtues.
She also manifests great courage and faith. Instead of hand-picking her future husband, she simply believes that the sign given to the servant by God was correct, and agrees to leave her home forever to marry a man she has never even met.
The ripples of her choices and actions are still expanding today. We are living in their wake.
The scriptures abound in stories of modesty and immodesty, and they trace the outcomes of those choices. They teach correct principles, and we are expected to be wise enough to govern ourselves.
Latter-day Saints are taught to be modest. Nascent solipsism in modern U.S. culture often influences North American Latter-day Saint thinking and behavior. In the prevailing culture, all questions revolve around the focal point of self—what's in it for me, how will it affect me, my, mine, etc. Hardly any attention is given to possible effects on others. We seem to join Cain in his cynical quip, "Am I my brother's keeper?" I believe such thinking has influenced LDS notions about the principle of modesty. As though we keep commandments only for our own benefit. Nevertheless, being modest benefits us as well as others.
The following definition of modest is from the Dress and Appearance section of the 2011 For the Strength of Youth Pamphlet:
"Do not use a special occasion as an excuse to be immodest. When you dress immodestly, you send a message that is contrary to your identity as a son or daughter of God. You also send the message that you are using your body to get attention and approval.
"Immodest clothing is any clothing that is tight, sheer, or revealing in any other manner. Young women should avoid short shorts and short skirts, shirts that do not cover the stomach, and clothing that does not cover the shoulders or is low-cut in the front or the back. Young men should also maintain modesty in their appearance. Young men and young women should be neat and clean and avoid being extreme or inappropriately casual in clothing, hairstyle, and behavior. They should choose appropriately modest apparel when participating in sports. The fashions of the world will change, but the Lord’s standards will not change.
"Show respect for the Lord and yourself by dressing appropriately for Church meetings and activities. This is especially important when attending sacrament services. Young men should dress with dignity when officiating in the ordinance of the sacrament.
"If you are not sure what is appropriate to wear, study the words of the prophets, pray for guidance, and ask your parents or leaders for help. Your dress and appearance now will help you prepare for the time when you will go to the temple to make sacred covenants with God. Ask yourself, 'Would I feel comfortable with my appearance if I were in the Lord’s presence?'"
The precise definition of "modesty" is not so easy to pin down. There is wiggle room for interpretation. If there were numerous exact rules, and modesty police, we would be carrying measuring tapes and yardsticks around with us everywhere like the Pharisees of Jesus' day. We would become the army of "prudes" President Hinckley wanted to avoid creating.
While definitions of immodesty vary from person to person, if we choose to define modesty in terms of "how does this affect me?" without considering "how will this affect others?" we are missing the point of modesty—that we share this world, and do have some responsibility for our effect on other people. Here is my current personal definition of modesty:
To be modest means modifying one's attitude, actions, dress, and language in the attempt to have the best possible effect on the spiritual well being of other people.
"Wherefore, all things which are good cometh of God; and that which is evil cometh of the devil; for the devil is an enemy unto God, and fighteth against him continually, and inviteth and enticeth to sin, and to do that which is evil continually. But behold, that which is of God inviteth and enticeth to do good continually; wherefore, every thing which inviteth and enticeth to do good, and to love God, and to serve him, is inspired of God" (Moroni 7:12-13). The ways we talk, act, dress, and our attitudes, do not force anyone to do anything. But they are looming advertisements for others to think, feel, and act. What are we inviting others to do?
My definition of modesty says nothing about skirt length, etc. It presupposes a certain degree of wisdom in us. "For behold, it is not meet that I should command in all things; for he that is compelled in all things, the same is a slothful and not a wise servant; wherefore he receiveth no reward" (D&C 58:26). When we are obedient, true to the light we possess, we can receive more; we will be blessed "with commandments not a few" (D&C 59:4).
Specific descriptions of how to dress modestly are found only in a publication addressed to the youth. We lack this knowledge until it is taught.
What level of responsibility will we be held to for the thoughts and resulting actions of others we influence here in mortality? It is possible to do everything right and still elicit unintended or undesirable responses from others. (It is also possible to try to pull others in the wrong direction and fail.) Scriptural verbs such as "invite," "entice," and "persuade" all imply agency in one party, and non-compulsory salesmanship in the other. They make it clear that we are to do the best we can to have a positive impact, but that others are ultimately responsible for their thoughts, choices, and acts. If we do our part and are modest, we are absolved of our responsibility.
It is possible to be immodest unwittingly. The Lord surely approaches such things with mercy and compassion and understanding, and so should we. My use of the word "attempt" in my definition was deliberate.
I was told a story about an American dignitary who visited another continent. When standing before an audience, he put his thumbs and forefingers together in circles, raised his arms, and made the "OK" signal to his audience. But it was considered an obscene gesture in that country, and they chased him out of town. I imagine our responsibility in the final judgment with regard to modesty, and our overall effect on others, will deal largely with our intent instead of the reactions we elicited.
While modern prophets have implored the youth to dress and act modestly (sometimes to no avail), direct commands in the scriptures—"thou shalt dress modestly"—are almost nonexistent. Paul expresses a wish that women would dress modestly (1Tim. 2:9). Adam and Eve are given modest clothes to cover themselves. But instead of direct commands and detailed regulations, the scriptures often teach about modesty via sad narrative warnings about the dangers of dressing and acting immodestly.
The story of the daughter of Jared is among these sad tales. She was a prototype of the liberated modern woman—cunning, intelligent, ambitious, ruthless, and physically attractive. Not fettered by the clunky, outdated social codes of the 1950s (the story is over three thousand years old), she devised a plan to restore her dethroned father to power:
"Now the daughter of Jared being exceedingly expert, and seeing the sorrows of her father, thought to devise a plan whereby she could redeem the kingdom unto her father. Now the daughter of Jared was exceedingly fair. And it came to pass that she did talk with her father, and said unto him: Whereby hath my father so much sorrow? Hath he not read the record which our fathers brought across the great deep? Behold, is there not an account concerning them of old, that they by their secret plans did obtain kingdoms and great glory? And now, therefore, let my father send for Akish, the son of Kimnor; and behold, I am fair, and I will dance before him, and I will please him, that he will desire me to wife; wherefore if he shall desire of thee that ye shall give unto him me to wife, then shall ye say: I will give her if ye will bring unto me the head of my father, the king" (Ether 8:8-10).
Seems she was also immodest in speech, a braggart.
Her plan succeeded at first, but then backfired when her husband grew jealous of her father, and had him killed, too. After Akish ascended to the throne, he became afraid that his son would try to dethrone him, and had him killed also. His remaining sons fought a war against him. There is no epilogue for Mrs. Akish, the daughter of King Jared, but I imagine even her callous heart could not help but be wrenched by the sight of her immediate family soaked in each others' blood. Her aspirations went up like a firework, enjoyed one glorious moment, and disappeared with a loud bang in a cloud of smoke.
There are accounts of modesty, too. Contrast the tragic narrative above with the story of Rebekah.
Abraham sends his servant out to look for a wife for Isaac. He causes his servant to swear not to bring an idolatrous Canaanite woman back from his wife-hunting trip. The servant arrives at a city:
"And he made his camels to kneel down without the city by a well of water at the time of the evening, even the time that women go out to draw water. And he said, O Lord God of my master Abraham, I pray thee, send me good speed this day, and shew kindness unto my master Abraham. Behold, I stand here by the well of water; and the daughters of the men of the city come out to draw water: And let it come to pass, that the damsel to whom I shall say, Let down thy pitcher, I pray thee, that I may drink; and she shall say, Drink, and I will give thy camels drink also: let the same be she that thou hast appointed for thy servant Isaac; and thereby shall I know that thou hast shewed kindness unto my master."
This was no small thing. A herd of camels just finishing a trip would require hundreds of gallons of water. I am told a flight of stairs had to be traversed in order to reach water in this particular well. This would be like asking a stranger today to wash your dirty RV after a long road trip. A woman who performed this task would need athletic ability, as well as altruism and humility. Rebekah would have been a mess of mud after watering those animals.
"And it came to pass, before he had done speaking, that, behold, Rebekah came out...with her pitcher upon her shoulder. And the damsel was very fair to look upon, a virgin, neither had any man known her: and she went down to the well, and filled her pitcher, and came up. And the servant ran to meet her, and said, Let me, I pray thee, drink a little water of thy pitcher. And she said, Drink, my lord: and she hasted, and let down her pitcher upon her hand, and gave him drink. And when she had done giving him drink, she said, I will draw water for thy camels also, until they have done drinking. And she hasted, and emptied her pitcher into the trough, and ran again unto the well to draw water, and drew for all his camels" (Gen. 24:11-20).
While the account says nothing of her clothes during her initial encounter with Abraham's servant, it does say something later on. The servant brings Rebekah home to Isaac, she sees him in the distance, and "therefore she took a veil, and covered herself" (Gen. 24:65). At her home the servant told her of Abraham's wealth, and that Isaac was to inherit it, and puts expensive jewelry on her as tokens thereof. But she was already part of a wealthy household (big enough to corral a caravan of camels and provide food and lodging for the travelers). Far from ambitions of power, wealth, prestige, and ease, her actions identify her as willing to serve others. Can you imagine the shrewd daughter of Jared volunteering to join a bucket brigade and hauling hundreds of gallons of water to slop camels for a complete stranger? Rebekah's external modesty is matched by her internal virtues.
She also manifests great courage and faith. Instead of hand-picking her future husband, she simply believes that the sign given to the servant by God was correct, and agrees to leave her home forever to marry a man she has never even met.
The ripples of her choices and actions are still expanding today. We are living in their wake.
The scriptures abound in stories of modesty and immodesty, and they trace the outcomes of those choices. They teach correct principles, and we are expected to be wise enough to govern ourselves.
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