During
school training a couple of weeks ago, we learned that reading books
to children that are above their grade level leads to better literacy
and better comprehension. I hadn't read to my youngest, nine years
old, in quite a while because he's already an accomplished reader
above his grade level.
But
I had enjoyed reading to him. So what should I read to him now? Well,
he hasn't read Lord of the Rings yet. I wonder if I can find
some Shakespeare a nine-year-old would like? Need to get a chair back
in his room, but we could just read on the couch...
Oh
wait. We are reading something that is very challenging to
read, at any age: the scriptures, specifically The Book of Mormon
right now.
Reading
the scriptures is the perfect literary experience. The writing is
beautiful, the words are true, and not only am I living vicariously
through a character or narrator's point of view, but everything in
them is also relevant to me. I can apply it and learn from it. With
the witness of the Holy Ghost, they become a spiritual experience. No
literature of man can even come close.
Isaiah
is one of my favorites. Such a phenomenal writer, with layers of
metaphor and analogy and such a beautiful construction of words.
And
Moroni had no idea what a great writer he was.
But
wait.
I
am reading a translation.
Who
translated Isaiah in the KJV? He must also have been a wonderful
writer, an expert in Hebrew and a lover of God's word. A learned man
of humility who must have worked under inspiration also. I am
grateful that there was such a person, and it would be nice to meet
him someday.
And
how did Joseph Smith choose the words to write in The Book of Mormon?
I knew what we all know, that Emma, Martin Harris and Oliver Cowdery
all wrote down the words as Joseph read them. He spelled out
unfamiliar names.
This
train of thought lead me to finally get around to reading Royal
Skousen's paper, "How Joseph Smith Translated The Book of
Mormon." In it, he argues that both the evidence of witnesses
and the textual evidence support a tight control of the translation,
to the point that one could not even call it translation but
revelation.
Skousen
took the time, decades actually, to delve into the specifics. He
worked with what we have of the original manuscript that Joseph
dictated to his scribes.
For
instance, the scribe wrote down Zenock
(an easy mistake), immediately crossed it out and wrote down Zenoch.
Coriantumr could not have been spelled correctly even if Joseph
slowly and carefully sounded out the name. He had to have spelled it
out.
The
paper covers characteristically early modern English that is not
necessarily in the Bible, uncharacteristic English phrasing, and
Hebraisms. It's an interesting and readable article.
Royal
Skousen is a linguist who founded a method of reasoning that can be
applied to language. He has published, among other works, Analogical
Modeling: Examplars, Rules, and Quantum Computing. Yes, quantum
computing and language. I'll get back to you on that one.
As
I wandered down this path of inquiry, several things have occurred to
me.
A
lot of my LDS writer friends, as well as well respected LDS authors
(in particular, the one who hosts this site) and literature experts
(I am a huge fan of Arthur Henry King) have made the observation that
The Book of Mormon just could not be a 19th Century book written in
just a couple of months — while under persecution and needing
to move, no less.
Authors
know what it takes to write, and there is little evidence that Joseph
Smith had those tools, including modern writing skills that no one in
the 1800s had.
The
impression isn't as scholarly as Skousen's. It's the same
subconscious impression described in the book Blink, when the
card guesser starts guessing correctly more often than not before he
knows the pattern.
Sophisticated
readers are making good guesses before they really known the pattern,
because they're familiar with it.
The
pattern of language, culture, and information and story flow is
something that can be analyzed and picked apart. The patterns of
antiquity and an ancient, non-European culture which are in The Book
of Mormon could be found. The Hebrew form of poetry, chiasmus is once
such pattern that comes to mind.
And
in Skousen's paper we learn that the "if and" style of
statements used in The Book of Mormon isn't simply non-standard
English, but is the Hebrew version of our "if then"
statements.
So
far, of those patterns that scholars have been able to consciously
discern, The Book of Mormon has held up under that scrutiny.
It
is not anti-scientific or illogical to believe The Book of Mormon is
true. That is because the hypothesis that it is true leads to
predictions that can be tested.
We
should be able to determine how the transcription process occurred
through textual analysis. It should contain the language and
character of one or more ancient civilizations. We should see
multiple authors underlying the translation.
We
should see a drift in culture over the thousand years in the book. We
should discover similarities in some Native American languages to
Semitic languages.
It
holds up very well to those predictions.
We
may find some of our assumptions wrong while The Book of Mormon
itself is still true. If B.H. Roberts had lost his testimony based on
some of his studies that appeared to discredit The Book of Mormon, he
would have left the Church based on wrong assumptions.
Roberts
believed in a hemispheric approach to The Book of Mormon, and it
colored all of his thinking. It's
interesting that this kind of a fact, that all the peoples in the
Western Hemisphere are descended from Lehi and the Jaradites, is not
true. It was something long believed, and even taught in church.
The
Book of Mormon itself stands up to everything we've learned, but not
all of our assumptions. But
through all the supposed difficulties B. H. Roberts stood firm in his
testimony. He must have had questions. He must have figured there was
information he didn't know, and that all the pieces would fall
together eventually. First and foremost, he relied on the personal
revelation of The Book of Mormon's truth.
All
of that scholarly evidence is interesting, but it is not relevant to
us. We don't grow from it, except in a scholarly way. And I don't
think that's how we're going to be judged.
We
grow from reading The Book of Mormon as scripture.
First
and foremost we should rely on our testimony given to us from God
through the Holy Ghost. That is what will have practical application
in our lives. And there is another prediction that can be tested:
That our relationship with God will grow, our understanding of the
Savior will increase, and our lives will improve as we study and
follow the teachings of The Book of Mormon as scripture.
That's
the most proving evidence: the fruit that The Book of Mormon bears
when we hold to it.
Ami Chopine started out her mortal existence as a single cell. That cell divided into a collection
of cells that cooperated enough to do such things as eat, crawl, walk and eventually read a lot
and do grownuppy things.
When she was seven years old, hanging upside down on the monkey bars, she decided she
wanted to be a scientist when she grew up. Even though she studied molecular biology at the
University of Utah, that didn't quite come to pass. She became a writer instead. Still, her passion
for science and honest inquiry has remained and married itself to her love of the Gospel.
Ami is married to Vladimir and together they have four amazing children -- three in college and
one in elementary school, where Ami is president of the Family School Organization. Vladimir
is the better cook, but Ami is the better baker. She also knits, gardens, stares at clouds, and sings.
She can only do three of these at the same time.
Besides two published computer graphics books and several magazine tutorials, she writes
science fiction and has a couple of short stories published. You can find her blog at
www.amichopine.com.
Ami was surprised to not be given a calling as some kind of teacher the last time she was called
into the bishop's office. She currently serves as the Young Women Secretary -- somewhat
challenging for the girl whose grandmother used to call the absentminded professor.