Author: gwesley

In case you are feeling overwhelmed with the beginning of the new semester and need a shot of encouragement, here you go.

(NB I am not a new professor and so have no business reading this letter. But perhaps there are some who will care to comment.)

Among the many happy thoughts offered, I’ll single out this one:

We all know the little secrets of “scholarship” too, such as using others’ work rather than doing the work for ourselves, and taking credit for it; citing sources without having read them; lifting citations and quotations and sometimes translations from secondary sources without acknowledging the secondary sources from which they came. It is re-search, and not much different from what Francis Bacon observed in his day: “if one turns from workshops to libraries and marvels at the enormous variety of books one sees there, on examining and looking more carefully into the subject matter and contents of those books, one will surely marvel the other way; for seeing the endless repetitions, and how men keep doing and saying the same things, one will pass from admiration of variety to wonder at the poverty and scarcity of those things that have up to now possessed and occupied the minds of men.” This is still why most “scholarship” doesn’t last. It is new bottles for old wine.

And I’ll ask, somewhat off topic, is it ok to use other people’s published translations when studying for an in-class translation assignment? a final exam in a language course? a program or department language proficiency exam?

My hunch is that the decision to use another’s published translation in one’s own published work, with or without proper credit, is already made in these situations.

Now I will never be able to read as many languages as I might want to, and in the case of those few that I am somewhat familiar with, I can hardly read them like the newspaper. This means that however purist my intentions, I am going to have to rely on other people’s translations if I want to be exposed to more than the few titles I might be able to slog through in my lifetime with the help of a dictionary.

But at what point do I become dishonest in my use of another’s translation?

*As will soon become apparent, I have been influenced by several posts of late. You might consider this a longish comment.

In a routine meeting, I recently heard a department chair of religious studies describe the relationship he has with his own religious tradition as tortured. He went on to say that the tension between faith and scholarship is essential to what religious studies people do. Instead of seeking a once-and-for-all resolution or peace of mind, as some might like to have, he recommended that his audience just accept the tension and learn to put it to use. It offers a lot of creative potential and leads you to ask really difficult and interesting questions, questions that no one else would ask, he said. Without it, “you’re just an historian.”
Continue reading “Some more on true/false and academic responsibility (a.k.a. intellectual honesty)”

The Church Audiovisual Department Casting Office is looking to fill 30 plus roles for a new NT film (hat tip to c-bones). I’m going to apply as the “Possessed Man.”

The Bloggernacle has featured no shortage of posts on the Curse of Ham. At the risk of leaving some out, I’ll mention these two posts by David G. of JI with a link to this post by Stirling of BCC, all of which take note of important non-Mormon scholarship. As may be recalled from these posts, book-length studies of the reception history of the curse are Haynes (2002), Goldenberg (2003), and Davis (2008).

Now there is another to add to the list:
Continue reading “The Latest on the Curse of Ham”

In my last post I wondered aloud whether Nephi Sails the Ship of State. Since the Republic itself has a sequel, I hope it won’t be too much if I offer another Platonic reading of some of our Judeo-Christian scripture.

References to ‘intelligence’ and ‘intelligences’ in the D&C, Book of Abraham, and King Follett discourse have attracted and continue to attract a fair amount of attention. In the 19th and 20th centuries, not a few Mormons got themselves into trouble for attempting to explain what these esoteric terms mean. With its general paucity of information about pre-mortal existence, the Bible is not much help in answering the question.

Platonic tradition, on the other hand, whether of the Greco-Roman, Hermetic, Jewish, Gnostic, Christian, or Islamic variety, is quite rich in this area. For instance, in the writings of Plato himself, the soul is divided into different parts, the highest being the rational part (logistikon, logos) or mind/intellect (nous), and the soul is associated with the stars.

Continue reading “Abraham, Thrice-Great Hermes, and Plato”

The reception history of Plato’s Republic has obviously been extensive, from Cicero’s De re publica . . . to Augustine’s De civitate Dei . . . to Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings . . .  

One of the passages of common interest, perhaps not as famous as, say, the Cave but still well known, is the Ship of State (488a and following). Socrates represents the city-state as a ship, the governance of which is disputed among those on board. The owner of the ship is said to be unlearned in navigation if also somewhat physically incapable. The sailors individually think they ought to be the one steering it but not only do they lack all training, they assert that the skill cannot be taught and go so far as to cut down anyone who says that it can. Disposing of rivals, they tie up the ship owner, so to speak, by drugging him, inebriating him, etc. Then they sail around consuming the supplies. The person who helps them best achieve their mutinous designs they honor as navigator, pilot, and knower of things pertaining to ships. Ignorant as they are of the astronomical and meteorological requirements for proper navigation, should there happen to be a competent person on board, they would think him crazy and useless.

In the context of the Republic, the Ship of State is among other things part of Socrates’ criticism of Athenian democracy and his defense of the type of true philosopher who would be in charge of the ideal city-state, the so-called philosopher-king with actual knowledge of the Good and who does not want to rule but does anyway because it is to the people’s advantage.                

After successfully building and steering the ship that brought them to the promised land, Nephi reluctantly accepts the position of king over his people (2 Nephi 5:17; cf. Mosiah 23:6-13, 29:1-47; Alma 13:17-18; Ether 6:22-30). His competence in statecraft and future as regent is in fact foreshadowed in the episode that takes place on the ship. When he warns his brothers against revelry and forgetting “by what power they had been brought thither” while the voyage goes well, they get upset and say: “We will not that our younger brother shall be a ruler over us” (1 Nephi 18:9-10). With Nephi bound, his brothers see that they cannot steer the ship, as the Liahona stops functioning. It looks as though everyone on board will perish at sea, until Nephi is released and the compass begins to point the way again.

It has been suggested that Tolkien’s translation of old Hobbit records be read on a philosophical level, as an elaborate retelling of the Republic, centered around the Ring of Gyges (359a and following). To what extent, if at all, might the Book of Mormon be read along similar but more theological lines, opening with the Ship of State? Statecraft and warfare occupy not a few of its pages. There are righteous kings, tyrants, and judges. Nephi himself is no philosopher, of course. But he does ascend mountains, whether physical or spiritual, to contact God (the Good?) and thereby possesses knowledge (of shipbuilding, et cetera) that his brothers deny. The other prophets and kings in the Book of Mormon are not philosophers either, though they do contend with antichrist-sophists who say that might makes right and that it is impossible to know of anything outside the visible world. Despite its apparent references to America as the promised land, the Book of Mormon is not particularly democratic. In fact, the ideal form of government may be that of the prophet-king.

Despite prohibition in the YMMIA handbook against the scout handclasp, swearing oaths, and the elaboration of rank advancement with ritual, the scout committee of the Pleasant Grove, Utah third ward instituted the Order of the Skunk Skull in 1937. Minutes from the first meeting record the number of attendants at 22 and list the names of some 18 scouts who took the oath of secrecy and drank “poison water from [the] ear of [a] deer.” There is a photograph of the meeting as well, showing the attendants dressed as Native Americans; one of them holds a cup fashioned from a deer’s ear mounted to a piece of wood with an antler for a handle.

Continuing to meet in a cave in the near-by mountains, the order celebrated its 50th anniversary in 1987. Originally, scouts were initiated upon achieving the rank of eagle.  But over the years, membership was offered to others, especially dignitaries, regardless of when or if they had become eagle scouts.  The 70th anniversary meeting was actually held in an LDS church if for no other reason than that there were too many attendants to fit in the cave. A few of the first skunks, still living, came, insisting on the use of the old scout handclasp, while among the candidates for initiation were the city mayor, two state representatives, several members of local bishoprics and stake presidencies, and a general young men’s board member.          

In his book Sports in Zion, Richard Ian Kimball suggests that behind the proscription of this type of scouting was the fear “that an association with Scouting ceremonies might diminish the impact of the holy activities within the temple.” Whatever the reason, no doubt a skunk would maintain that initiation in the order actually has the opposite effect.  Most fascinating to me is that the Order of the Skunk Skull operates within Mormonism and at a rather high level, notwithstanding official injunction. It would be interesting to learn the histories of however many other scout groups there are of this kind.

The short:

Given his ownership of William Hone’s controversial Apocryphal New Testament, Joseph Smith had access to a fair amount of ancient Christian literature, including texts that discuss the fate of deceased non-Christians.

The long:

William Hone was a London pamphleteer and bookseller whose name was in many circles synonymous with blasphemy. In 1820 he published a compilation of early Christian texts, with a brief preface and two appendices, the full title of which ran, The Apocryphal New Testament, Being All The Gospels, Epistles And Other Pieces Now Extent, Attributed In The First Four Centuries to Jesus Christ, His Apostles, And Their Companions And Not Included In The New Testament By Its Compilers. Translated From The Original Tongues, And Now Collected Into One Volume. For the bulk of the book Hone combined the work of two eighteen-century scholars, Jeremiah Jones’ English translation of New Testament apocrypha, and William Wake’s Apostolic Fathers. The preface, the only part Hone could claim as his, began with a question: “After the writings contained in the New Testament were selected from the numerous Gospels and Epistles then in existence, what became of the Books that were rejected by the compilers?” As a selection of those very books Hone presented Apocryphal New Testament. “He who possess this and the New Testament, has in the two volumes,” he wrote, “a collection of all the historical records relative to Christ and His Apostles, now in existence, and considered sacred by Christians during the first four centuries after His birth.” Hone’s opponents were quick to point out his plagiarism of Jones and Wake, and this, along with the popularity of the first edition, which sold out in a few months, prompted him to prepare a second edition in 1821, featuring increased annotation, a second preface, third appendix, and an additional ancient Christian text he had overlooked. In subsequent years Apocryphal New Testament saw numerous (pirated) printings and editions, and it remains in print today.
Continue reading “Baptism for the Dead and William Hone’s Apocryphal New Testament”