Showing posts with label Joseph Smith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joseph Smith. Show all posts

2 Nephi 31, Mosiah 18, & 3rd Nephi: Baptism

Baptism was under debate in the nineteenth century. Was it necessary to salvation (a sacrament or ceremony required for heavenly admittance)? Part of inclusion into a particular order/society (and was that necessary)? Did it regenerate the sinner or simply offer the possibility of regeneration? 

The issue of authority—does a church need educated clergy/bishops to carry out such sacraments or ordinances?—was also under debate.

The issue was of such importance in the nineteenth century that Joseph Smith paused his translation--Oliver Cowdery as scribe--in May 1829 to receive a series of revelations that resulted in baptism by men holding the Aaronic Priesthood. The passage that inspired this act was apparently from 3 Nephi, but the "problem" of baptism shows up in The Book of Mormon earlier. 

2 Nephi presents baptism as following the Son's example--the particular "how" of the act is not addressed, other to separate the remission of sins from the act of baptism. Mosiah 18 follows suit: baptism is presented as admittance into the community. Repentance is more about the individual's relationship with God and is not accomplished instantly or permanently. 

3rd Nephi 11:38 presents baptism (or at least the inner change that accompanies baptism) as a necessary ordinance--"And again I say unto you, ye must repent, and be baptized in my name, and become as a little child, or ye can in nowise inherit the kingdom of God." Chapters 7 and 11 both stress baptism as an act that takes place after repentance: "Verily I say unto you, that whoso repenteth of his sins through your words and desireth to be baptized in my name, on this wise shall ye baptize them" (3 Nephi 7:25). Baptism by "fire and the Holy Ghost" is emphasized in all remaining chapters. That is, baptism by water leads to the second less calculable (and less observable) yet apparently more necessary experience. 

Questions about the actual act of baptism in response to 3rd Nephi are understandable. And if one needs to explain Joseph Smith’s ability to attract members, the events here go a long way towards that explanation. Not only does Joseph Smith use The Book of Mormon to inspire him and Oliver Cowdery to direct action, he resolves several issues at once in the form of a straight-forward ritual carried out by ordinary guys who experience a vision. 

The act and the accompanying ordination back a belief in revelation/divine intervention as well as the position that the gospel is to repentance what baptism is to a remission of sins (baptism remits sins but doesn't accomplish repentance instantly or permanently). The visual, outward ceremony is accompanied by inward grace.

In effect, in response to The Book of Mormon, Joseph Smith pulled together high church and low church approaches—visions, authority, scriptural deference, personal revelation, lay people, rituals, and long-term progress--with one act.

I will post more about Joseph Smith later. Here, I will say that over and over, Joseph Smith's response to religious queries was to go out and make something. If he was a painter, he would have surprised the world with Under the Wave off Kanagawa. If he was a musician, he would have pulled a Beethoven. 

He was an American populist religious leader with a grounding in New England religious thought: therefore, he had wide-reaching revelations that tackled ongoing religious problems in everyday, physical ways.

Alma: Secret Combinations

Background

The Book of Alma is filled with mention of secret combinations associated with kingmakers and related plots.

I personally find conspiracy theories as boring and pointless as Sherlock from Elementary does. However, a fascination with conspiracy theories is part of the human condition. Nineteenth-century readers were quite familiar with the so-called Burr conspiracy which occurred in the century's first decade. It was reported in multiple newspapers. It was likely the most famous national event of that time.
 
In sum, Aaron Burr, after he killed Alexander Hamilton, started gathering supporters to create a country out of the Mississippi Valley. Within fifty years, the United States would be divided North versus South. But at the time, the divide was between the Atlantic states and the states/territories to the West. The perception was that the Eastern states were run by elite politicians and moneymakers who wanted to rob farmers and ordinary people of their goods and money and land, a perception that was fueled, in part, by the Whiskey Rebellion (and yes, that perception lingers).
 
Burr's rhetoric and his behavior (which may have been part of a kind of Ponzi scheme) were reported--in part by people who claimed to have joined the conspiracy (see Sherlock's point above). And he was ultimately found not guilty since his behavior seems to have fallen into blustering bombastic populist egotistic self-flattery that didn't result in any actual violent military action. He did leave the United States after his trial, however.
 
It is entirely a matter of speculation whether the average citizen, for whom Burr claimed to be acting, would have favored Burr in the long run any more than any other high-handed self-appointed autocrat. The Book of Mormon, for one, pairs elitism with local kingmakers. Captain Moroni heads to the country's capital to restore the government there, an act that many nineteenth-century readers would have endorsed. (In 1814, the Burning of Washington resulted in the president being temporarily ousted from the capital.) 
 
In other words, the Federal government was perceived by many groups, including what became the Mormons, as a necessary check to what James Madison called "the spirit of locality," that is, the bullying that can occur in a pure democracy (the inevitable bullying here is why the electoral college is still a decent form of democracy). The attitude of the Federal government at that time, however, was to restrict Federal involvement, as demonstrated in Barron v. Baltimore, in which a property owner's loss of income was not (fully) redressed despite the state violating the owner's rights; the Supreme Court determined that the problem was between the owner and the state. The issue wasn't a Federal one. 

The problem of rights and the individual is complex and indicates that libertarianism is not automatically a state v. Federal issue, at least not historically. Utah Mormons would later have a fraught relationship with the Feds. Some of the seeds of distrust were sown in the Nauvoo years when petitions for Federal protection against state harassment were, from the view of Joseph Smith and his followers, ignored. 
 
That disillusionment was to come. Early readers of The Book of Mormon would have encountered a more optimistic solution in The Book of Mormon's Captain Moroni. And it is notable that despite the time period's Millennial fever, many low to middleclass Americans were not interested in revolutions of the messy kind (however proud they were of their own revolution) but, rather, in balanced and rational governments so they could get on with life. 
 
I highly recommend!
Freemasonry & Themes in The Book of Mormon
 
Any discussion of Mormons and conspiracies brings up freemasonry. 

Nineteenth-century Mormons, including Joseph Smith, were well-aware of the inherent tension of freemasonry.

On the one hand was the desire for secret or gnostic knowledge separate from philosophical, "educated" theoretical blatherings amongst Eastern elites. Freemasonry returned rituals to Protestantism as well as the mysticism and active participation that not only the Enlightenment but late Calvinism seemed to be wiping out (aside from revivals, of course, but even revivals maintained a kind of top-down expectation of "correct" performance--see "confessions" on modern social media). The desire for knowledge and ritual is arguably a human one. Freemasonry likely mirrors the Ancient Roman soldier's interest in Mithraism. Like the Ancient Roman soldier, many non-educated (and educated) Americans wanted something real and powerful and non-labelly yet profound--something other than country club religion (which frankly, Ancient Roman paganism rather resembled for the elite).

Freemasonry appeared to deliver. (It also filled a gap in American culture as church and state increasingly separated after the American Revolution.)
 
And yet, on the other side, was an intense dislike of secret societies, which dislike often expanded to include a dislike of elites making backroom deals at the expense of the "common man" (see above). In the early 1800s, the "common" citizen was a farmer while Masons were often merchants and professionals. Not wealthy earners from our modern point of view. But not "common" enough. (However, that image is complicated by the sheer number of social organizations, freemasonry and otherwise, within the United States at the time.)
 
The tensions here resided in Gothicism, which began in the eighteenth century, and go a long way to explaining the popularity of Ann Radcliffe oeuvre and Stoker's Dracula.
 
On the one hand was a yearning for the ritualistic, knightly Catholic past, including its buildings and Saints and priests.
 
On the other was a dislike of Catholic doctrine (as understood by Protestants).
 
On the one hand was a desire for supernatural romanticism, elements of the human experience that the carefully constructed arguments of Protestantism and the Enlightenment seemed to be eliminating.
 
On the other was a paranoid dislike of secrecy and stuff happening behind closed doors (see pamphlets about Maria Monk).
 
So, on the one hand, The Book of Mormon promises that more mysteries are forthcoming. On the other, it contains an ongoing worry about conspiring groups.
 
The text continually marks the difference: namely, positive communities want to expand rights while negative societies want to remove them. The problem is arguably more difficult. But the characterizations remain consistent within the text.
 
The problem, eventually, in Nauvoo, was that Joseph Smith perceived polygamy and its rational outgrowth, temple ceremonies, as positives that joined more and more members together--while others saw such things as violations of basic Christianity and therefore, negative and destructive (and secretive) influences.
 
I am reminded of a scene in That Hideous Strength in which the main character, Mark, who has always wanted to be in "the know" of a secret society doesn't even recognize when he becomes part of one with the ragged beggar man.
 
C.S. Lewis returns here to an idea that he raises in Surprised by Joy. He paints in an entirely positive light the boys' secret brotherhood at the worst private school he attended. Yet the later "in-group" mentality of intellectuals and poseurs and social climbers, he paints wholly negatively. The first group didn't set out to be a society. The boys were merely trying to survive and helped each other out ("we few, we happy few"). The second group, however, could only exist if "outsiders" were torn down; they couldn't advance unless others were put in their place.
 
As definitions--society that joins people together through ties of fellowship is good; society that bands together to mock and find things wrong with others is bad--these are quite usable even if the events to which they are applied can be quite complex. Such definitions appear in The Book of Mormon over and over again. 
 
Regarding freemasonry and the temple, Joseph Smith borrowed from whatever was to hand--as did lots of people. Like with most human institutions, one monolithic freemasonry organization didn't exist in the United States, especially since women, Native Americans, Jews, and Blacks created their own lodges. 
 
"Borrowing"--even appropriation--is not the same as a conspiracy.